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Welcome to the eighth installment of my new series of Bionicle flash fics, The Biological Chronicle. If you want to read the other stories in this series, you can find links to them in my signature at the end of this post. If you don't know what this is, allow me to quote from the first fic's introduction: With that out of the way, enjoy: 2008 Though Gavla sat in the stands of the Metru Nui Coliseum alongside hundreds of other Matoran, she never felt more alone in her entire life. Turaga Dume, the head elder of the city, was giving some speech about how great it was that Mata Nui was awakened, how the darkness had finally been defeated, and other cliches that Gavla found extremely tiring. So tiring, in fact, that Gavla slipped out of the stands without anyone noticing, without anyone even stopping her to inquire where she was going on this momentous day. That was not surprising in the least. She had no friends, whether among the Av-Matoran or the others, so why would anyone care where she was? Gavla soon found herself just outside the Coliseum exit, trying to decide where she should go next. The cries of joy from the other Matoran were muffled out here, but she could still hear them plainly. She looked over her shoulder at the massive Coliseum, wishing the entire structure would just collapse on top of everyone inside there. Especially on Takanuva. “You're sick of it, too?” said a voice nearby, one she didn't recognize. Gavla looked around before spotting a Po-Matoran leaning against a streetlamp not far from the Coliseum's entrance. She had not seen him when she exited; in fact, unless she was mistaken, it seemed like he had just appeared out of thin air. She dismissed that as her imagination, though, because this Po-Matoran didn't look much different from the other Po-Matoran she had seen. “Who are you?” said Gavla, folding her arms and glaring at him. “And why aren't you in the Coliseum celebrating Mata Nui's awakening with everyone else?” The Po-Matoran shrugged. “I guess you must be one of those Av-Matoran. My name is Ahkmou. Let's just say that I'm not particularly popular among my fellow Metru Nuians. Hence why I'm out here alone.” Gavla eyed him carefully. “Why do they hate you? I thought all you Metru Nuians were best friends. The Three Virtues and all that.” Ahkmou chuckled. “They hate me because I used to serve Makuta Teridax himself.” Gavla shook her head in astonishment. “Wait, you, too, served the Makuta? I thought you Metru Nuians hated them.” “Not all of us,” said Ahkmou. “And besides, it was a while ago. I'm clean, but the other Matoran and even the Turaga still don't trust me much.” Gavla's shoulders sagged. “I know what you mean. Life was so much better when I was a servant of the Makuta.” She expected Ahkmou to react with horror at the statement, but to her relief, he nodded. “I agree. The power . . . oh, how powerful I felt when I was Teridax's servant. When you get a taste of that power, nothing ever seems to quite match up afterward, does it?” Gavla wasn't sure that she agreed. The only reason she had liked the Makuta, after all, was because they had accepted her. She never felt particularly powerful among them, but she nodded nonetheless, as she didn't want to cause any rifts between the two of them so soon. “Were you a—?” “Not a Shadow Matoran, no,” said Ahkmou, shaking his head. “Still, I know what it feels like. Darkness is a seductive force and I love it for that.” Gavla nodded, feeling happy that she had found someone who understood her. She was even starting to think that maybe she had finally found a friend, even though she had just met Ahkmou and did not know him very well. Then Ahkmou looked up at the sky and started. “What the—?” Frowning, Gavla followed his gaze. She was shocked to see that the stars had rearranged themselves into the shape of Makuta Icarax's Mask of Shadows. That made no sense, though. What was going on? She looked back at Ahkmou, who was now smiling in a way that reminded Gavla of the way Makuta Vamprah had sometimes smiled right when he was about to get his prey. “What's going on?” said Gavla. “Ahkmou, why are you smiling?” “Because if that mask is what I think it is,” said Ahkmou, his voice triumphant, “then I think life is about to get better for the both of us very enough. Very soon, indeed.” - Comments, criticism, questions, etc. are all welcome . -TNTOS-
