On long, dark, chilly nights, what's a better escape than to write yourself into another world?! Here's a bit of a preview --

Lhikan jumped quickly across the rooftops, no sound audible in the light-ridden district. Each time a great gap between buildings came he dug his sword into the metallic surface of the roof and swung onto the next structure. Darting through the wide streets below would have been easier, but comfort was no priority of his at the moment. The shadows were alive in Metru Nui at night, he knew, and no less above street level that on it.

The Toa grinned. Luring stalkers into thinking they were on top of the hunt was skill he had sharpened much in the recent much, to the point where he almost allowed himself to enjoy it. No doubt his followers would think him a poor fool who had sought refuge a place he had mistakenly believed safe. And so, they would follow him noiselessly until they were all around him, watching yet unseen, and then strike coldly – so was their plan; Lhikan knew it, and he let out another grin at the ignorance of his hunters.

Hunters were what the Vahki had become. Once symbols of efficiency and order, even if too strict in Lhikan’s mind, the Vahki had served as protectors and watchers of the Matoran and, most preciously, their work. In more recent times, however, things had changed. No one could say quite how lest they dared speak of it, but Lhikan felt it for sure. The busy yet upbeat hum of the ancient city had been replaced by something quite indescribable to Matoran who had spent all their lives working in their own little worlds – yet Lhikan knew the mood, for it had plagued this city and many other lands, too, not at least his own, in past ages. Fear had come to Metru Nui.

It was not fear as when Lhikan and his comrades had battle monsters of legend or warred with the Dark Hunters in the past; this was an unseen fear, largely, Lhikan believed, caused by an increase of sternness in the Vahki. He had no idea how or why the robotic beings had changed in such a way, though, and what little guess he had he was too afraid to voice to even himself or his Toa comrades.

On a chilly, starlit night, however, the Toa’s mind was not at far riddles, but right with him, calculating the time left till he got to where he had planned. He forced his heart to let go of his worries for the Matoran below, and steeled himself. He could now see it.

Roughly a 100 bio ahead of him loomed a large, slim tower. Emanating from it were soft blue circular lights, arranged in ascending patterns up to the spherical summit of the tower. Its walls were dark yet with a metallic glare in the glow of the cacophony of lightstones, and at the large orbed top was an array of rectangular windows from which a dim light shone. Lhikan kept his gaze fixed on it as he sped across the last building roofs; it was the Moto Main, the trademark peak of Le-Metru, rivaled in height by the Coliseum only.

The Toa of Fire was only three roofs from the southern wall of the tower, and as he duly noted, tiny, unearthly eyes peeked at him in cold curiosity. Once, the Vahki had allowed him free reign in Metru Nui at all times, as ordered by Turaga Dume himself. But to the grinning Toa, that seemed millennia ago.

And good day to you as well, Vahki, he thought and spun around without blinking.

May decide to epic-ify it sometime. we'll see. For now, Mahri New Year! B)

-Ikk