Find your tribe in a Sea of Creativity
Cole has always been aware of the Oni blood that ran through his veins. He didn’t remember the exact moment when he’d been told that he wasn’t entirely human, it just felt like he always knew. But he did remember the sheer about of training and time he put into perfecting the use of his inherited abilities. Shape-shifting? It was second nature, so easy to use that it was almost laughable. Yet, in battle or on missions, it became an invaluable tool. It was something he wouldn’t shy away from using, no matter if the only other people who knew about his lineage was Sensei Wu and Zane.
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Sneaking through a near pitch black warehouse was never something that Cole would personally plan to do on a Saturday night, but it wasn’t like he wanted to be stooping between wooden crates of presumably recently stored goods, or brushing specks of dust off his gi as he moved through areas that looked like they hadn’t been swept in far too long. Which wasn’t good, or very hygienic since according to the stock report he’d read a few days earlier, the crates that were towering high around him contained perishables. Foods; imported from some of the further reaches of Ninjago.
Presumably.
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