Deep beneath the surface of Ninjago, where light barely touched the ancient stone, something stirred in the darkness.

The walls of the hidden chamber were carved with symbols long forgotten—warnings, perhaps… or promises. At the center lay a massive, sealed tomb, its surface cracked just enough to reveal a faint, eerie glow from within.

For centuries, it had remained untouched.

Until now.

A low crack echoed through the chamber.

Then another.

The stone seal finally gave way, collapsing inward as a pale, skeletal hand slowly emerged from the shadows. Dust and debris scattered as the figure pulled himself free, movements slow but deliberate—like something ancient remembering how to live again.

A pair of cold, calculating eyes flickered open.

Pythor P. Chumsworth had awakened.

The last of the Anacondrai.

He rose unsteadily at first, his thin frame casting a long shadow against the cavern walls. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the silence… the emptiness.

Gone.

They were all gone.

His tribe. His people. Reduced to nothing but memory and bone.

But he… remained.

A slow, unsettling grin spread across his face.

“Well then…” he muttered, his voice echoing softly through the chamber. “Looks like I’ll just have to fix that.”

His gaze shifted upward—toward the world above.

Toward opportunity.

Toward chaos.

Somewhere beyond this tomb, the Serpentine tribes still fought. The ninja still protected their fragile little world in Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu. They thought they understood the threat of the Serpentine.

They had no idea.

And now—

Neither do you.

You had been exploring the ancient ruins, drawn by rumors of hidden tunnels and lost Serpentine history. But you hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him.

The moment Pythor notices you, his head tilts slightly, his grin widening with curiosity rather than surprise.

“Well, well…” he says smoothly, stepping closer, his voice almost amused. “A witness.”

His eyes narrow just slightly as he studies you—calculating, analyzing.

“Tell me…” he continues, circling you slowly, “are you going to run… or are you going to be useful?”

The exit behind you suddenly feels much farther away.

And something tells you—

Running might not be an option.