Chapter Text
Jack screamed as he plummeted towards the ground, the rest of the world resetting around him as the showdown ended. He barely had time to activate his helipack before he smashed into the ground, bouncing off the grass before skidding across it. He curled up into a ball, clutching his side in pain. Of fucking course.
"Haha! You lose, Jack Spicer! Once again, good has triumphed over evil. You should get to the going good!" Omi yelled from across the field, flailing his arms as he held up the newly acquired Shen Gong Wu.
"It's 'get while the going is good,’ partner. Though I suppose that works too, seein' as Jack still ain't no better at this whole evil thing." Clay let out a sigh, though he smiled good naturedly. He patted the top of Omi's bald head, the boy finally having grown a few more inches. The other monks just grinned, Kimiko and Raimundo exchanging high fives.
Jack pushed himself up off the ground, wobbling where he stood as he spat grass out of his mouth. He muttered under his breath, red eyes turning to glare at the monks. Five years he'd been at this whole Shen Gong Wu thing, and every year he'd told himself he'd get better at it. He let out a low growl, something finally snapping in the teen.
"You know what? Fuck you! I've had it with you losers!" His fists balled in anger, shoulders hunching as he shook. "You'll be sorry when I'm finally gone. Then who will you make fun of, huh?" The genius sneered, turning on his heel and taking off into the air with his helipack.
"Yeah right! You always come crawling back, Spicer. Next Wu and you'll be right back here with your dumb bots to lose again." Raimundo called after the older boy, smirking as he hooked his arms behind his head. Jack spun in the air, diving back towards the group, getting right up in the warrior's face. A low growl escaped him, his red eyes seemingly glowing in anger.
"No. No, I don't think I will. You know why? Because every week, for five fucking years I've had to deal with getting tossed around, insulted, and all my hard work destroyed just because you think you're doing some kind of good for the world. Ha! You're nothing but a bunch of thugs. Picking on those weaker than you in the name of being some goody two shoes little bitches. And to think at one time I actually thought of you idiots as my friends, I even considered joining you! Boy, what a fool I was! Poor lonely Jack Spicer. No friends, no allies, not even his parents care what he's doing." He narrowed his eyes. "Nobody would miss me, so maybe I should just fuck off and die somewhere. I'm sure you'd enjoy that. You'd get all the Wu to yourself, or have to deal with a real villain for them." He sneered, not even trying to blink back the tears that had welled up. All of the monks were caught off guard, mouths hanging open at the sudden tirade.
Jack snorted, kicking off of Raimundo to boost himself back up into the air and sending the other boy sprawling to the ground. He was done with this game. Maybe Chase had been right all along, that Wu really were just a crutch for the weak. His hand clenched in his jacket, tugging at the fabric over his heart. Chase. He still hadn’t won the warlord's approval, the one person whose opinion actually mattered.
oOo
He made his way back to his lab, having finally moved out of his parents’ basement. He still had the family money, but now he didn’t have to worry about their parties or if there was food. Or if his parents even bothered to come home. At least he knew that his place would always be empty. He pulled off his helipack as he walked through the door, hanging it on its hook. He began to tug off his outer layers, first undoing the harness then his jacket, tossing them in the direction of a nearby chair, uncaring of where they landed.
Jack slumped into the chair in front of his computer setup, staring at his reflection in the inactive monitors. Though he’d grown older, not much had changed. He’d gotten a bit taller and filled out some, but he still had the same pale skin, red hair, and eyeliner. Some habits die hard. Hell, he still wore pretty much the exact same outfit. Part of his “evil brand” as he liked to call it. He hit a button on the keyboard, waking the system up from its sleep mode.
He watched as the screens lit up, quickly typing in the password to unlock the system. He hummed, staring at the wallpaper on the main monitor. He’d managed to convince Chase to let him take a selfie with the warlord, the picture plastered front and center of his computer setup. It was his motivation, and maybe a bit of delusion. He wanted to do the evil thing for his own reasons, but he also wanted to be someone worthy of Chase’s praise.
Jack sighed, slumping back in his chair, pushing off the floor with his foot to send the chair into a slow spin. So far, nothing he tried had worked. Upgraded bots still got destroyed. Even with training and exercise, he still got his ass kicked too easily. And his fears still held him back, admittedly still a scardey cat. He tugged his goggles off, setting them on the desk before raking his fingers through red locks, mussing up the spikes before dragging his hands down his face. Something needed to change.
To be fair, there were only two reasons he hadn’t offed himself by that point. One, he was a little bitch, too scared to do it. Most methods were too slow or painful, and the quick ones weren’t elegant enough. As much as he resented his parents, he really didn’t want someone to have to deal with finding him with his brains blown all over the floor and giving them that fun news. Second reason? Pure spite. He didn’t want to give them all the satisfaction that they’d won.
Jack glanced up when he heard the ping of a new email notification. Probably another spam mail. That was really all he got anymore, unless it was a receipt for something he’d ordered online. He clicked on the message, about to hit delete when he paused, brow furrowing. He reread the subject line before reading the rest of the message. There was no way, it was too good to be true. He read it again, just to make sure before sitting back in his chair, staring at the screen.
He knew that he’d signed up for some college newsletters for summer courses, but he never expected to get one advertising upcoming “Evil Genius Summer Classes.” He eagerly clicked on the link for more info, reading over the course description.
“Huh, guess evil is now a marketable business choice. Who woulda thought?” He hummed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he read. It was a three month course, being offered at college in Hong Kong, going over basics as well as advanced skills. There were a few different options for extra programs, including a robotics option, which he read over. Maybe this was finally the push he needed. Plus, being away for three months would give him a nice break from dealing with the Xiaolin losers.
Jack typed up a quick email, sending in the required enrollment papers as well as the fee. It wasn’t like money was an issue. His family was filthy rich, and he had his own credit cards with no limits. The course fee was barely a drop compared to what he’d spent on robots per month. Besides, his family had an apartment in Hong Kong he could stay in, so he didn’t need to worry about housing.
He pushed back from the desk, spinning his chair around again. This was all far too easy for the genius. He could simply disappear for a few months then finally come back and take his rightful place in the Heylin ranks. He glanced over his shoulder at his desktop background, staring at Chase. Maybe he could finally have what he always wanted.
Jack stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a groan.
“Time to go pack.”