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Voltex

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PROLOGUE

 

A Matoran with sleek black and silver armor sat at a wooden desk, staring at the lit computer screen. Checking behind him to make sure that the door was shut, he let out a small sigh and turned back to the screen, tapping the microphone perched beside the keyboard to make sure that it was functional. Satisfied, he opened his mouth and began to speak.

 

“Journal entry one-zero-one,” he said. “Let’s recap.”

 

“About twelve years ago, a group of thirteen beings referring to themselves as the ‘White Council’ silently took over Metru-Nui. While one of them would later be exiled, having come to see that the group was nothing but a bunch of tyrants, the others remained firm in their standing and beliefs. A resistance group was formed to combat their corrupt regime, led by four Matoran; their names were Burnmad, Xaeraz, Fighty, and Agni. For six years, the Resistance fought a guerilla war against the White Council - however, while on a mission gone terribly wrong, Xaeraz was captured.

 

“They tortured him for an entire year, driving him absolutely mad with help from a Makuta known as Luroka. With help from insiders within the Resistance, the White Council engineered Xaeraz’s rescue; upon reaching the Resistance headquarters, Xaeraz slew both Fighty and Agni, although Burnmad managed to escape with his life intact and his role still a secret from the White Council. It was at this time that White Thirteen was exiled, and returned to his original name: Xaron.

 

“For the next couple years, the White Council reigned supreme with little challenge; two years later, Xaeraz resurfaced, committing several acts of terrorism against the White Council. At the same time, several ‘fight clubs’ began popping up in the various Metrus, launching a long-term campaign known as ‘Operation Rainfall’. Thanks to an Onu-Matoran called Portalfig, Operation Rainfall would eventually fail; unfortunately, this meant that the White Council continued to operate unimpeded.

 

“One year later, six Matoran were hired by the White Council to operate as a covert task force, intended to infiltrate their enemies and bring them down from the inside. Among this group were Burnmad and myself - Burnmad with the intention of striking the White Council at an opportune moment, while I had been unwittingly manipulated into joining by White One, the leader of the White Council. Shortly before I arrested a high profile ally of Xaeraz, the White Council hired me onto a secret project known as ‘Scenario Alpha’. It was a plan designed to lure every single enemy the White Council had, with the intent of eliminating them all at once.

 

“Six months after I made the arrest and was assigned to Scenario Alpha, the White Council announced a conference to be held on BZ-Koro. To my shock, I was invited; as were several Matoran that I considered close friends. The conference was Scenario Alpha - and the White Council had branded me a foe. At the conference, Xaeraz struck with the help of several other Matoran, killing almost all of the over two hundred Matoran in attendance. I was among only twenty-three survivors. Trapped inside the building by the powers of Luroka, whom we believed to be a Matoran, we were killed off one by one, both by Xaeraz’s allies, led by Sumiki, and by popular vote. For several days, I worked alongside Ehks - who I would later learn was Xaron, the former White Thirteen - and a Su-Matoran called Pulse to bring down Xaeraz’s allies. It all culminated in a final showdown with Sumiki and Luroka, who struck me down with an attack designed to drive me mad before he and Sumiki vanished. Thanks to some very quick thinking on the part of Ehks, I survived - barely. But the damage had been done.”

 

The Matoran paused the recording, rubbing at his eyes tiredly and glancing at the time on the computer. It was late - very late. Yet he could not wait until the morning. This recording had to be completed now; for if he was to fall, he needed to know that whoever replaced him would be brought up to speed on everything that had happened. Everything that he - and others - had experienced. With a sigh, he began to speak once more.

 

“Less than ten of us escaped that conference - in addition to myself, there was Ehks, Pulse, Lhikevikk, Portalfig, TBK, Locke, and Kayn. While Sumiki and Luroka had also survived, we did not know their whereabouts. When we left the conference hall and stepped outside at last, an extraction team was waiting for us. Burnmad had heard about the situation and lead three other Matoran to BZ-Koro to save us; unfortunately, he was already too late.

 

“Our rides off of the island exploded, leaving us stranded - and then Matoran loyal to the White Council began to pick us off one by one. Locke was the first to fall, a deadly poison causing him to drown in his own blood. I fought against a mysterious Pyro and Cryo alongside a De-Matoran named Canis, and was handed control of BZ-Koro when its mayor was assassinated. While Burnmad and Ehks managed the rest of the group, I led a team across the city, hoping to get information from a Ko-Matoran named Valendale currently imprisoned in the BZ-Koro jail. Half of my team was killed on the way, and the rest were forced to return back to base, injured. I alone reached Valendale, and I alone entered the main headquarters of a group known as Project Mayhem.

 

“There I met with Xaeraz, and joined forces with Project Mayhem. We created an army - the forces of Project Mayhem and BZ-Koro combined. As a team, we trekked back to base, where the rest of the survivors of the conference waited; there, Ehks was slain by the treacherous Squishy, and a servant of the White Council only known as ‘Agent 64’ attempted to slay me, although the intervention of an Av-Matoran known as MT saved my life at the last second. Before we could determine the identities of the other traitors in our group, several airships of soldiers led by White Ten arrived, with the intent of either apprehending or killing us. During the battle, Xaeraz’s tortured conditioning caused him to turn traitor, and he was killed by Burnmad; while the rest fought the soldiers, I fought White Ten in the sky, eventually slaying him.

 

“After the battle, I had Burnmad lead almost all of the others back to Metru-Nui, to organise those who disliked the White Council and build us an army. I remained behind on BZ-Koro with Valendale and a De-Matoran known as Vinylstep to try out an invention of Ehks’s designed to revive the dead. While it was unsuccessful, we did find two Matoran in the conference hall - Shadowhawk and JiMing - actually still barely alive, and awoke them. It was then that Fighty revealed himself to me, and helped me to understand many things.

 

“The Fighty I spoke to explained that he was from a different dimension, where the White Council had achieved victory and taken control of the entire universe. He had managed to travel to our dimension and found his counterpart, planting the idea of the Resistance. Unfortunately, when his counterpart was killed, the Fighty I spoke to was forced to disappear, or risk being captured by the White Council. However, he told me that the time had come to take the battle to the White Council once and for all, before they could complete the construction of their ultimate weapon. Together with Fighty and Burnmad, I led our forces in a strike on BZ-Metru, seizing it as our base of operations in Metru-Nui.

 

“That was eleven months ago - and for almost a year now, we have been at war. We have lost many allies along the way, lost several close friends; since the battle with White Ten, Canis was assassinated by Agent 64. Baltarc was ripped apart by three Matoran that our forces - and the White Council - have dubbed as the ‘Triplets’. MT was taken prisoner and publicly executed by White Four; his body has been displayed within the Coliseum ever since as a ‘lesson’ to those who wish to disobey the Council. Valendale fell while duelling with White Five personally; unfortunately, White Five managed to escape alive. And… perhaps what hit both Portalfig and I the hardest… Lhikevikk died at the hands of a new series of Vahki. Officially, they are the ‘Vahki 2.0’ series; however, they have come to be known as the ‘Dread’. Advanced over the originals in every way and designed specifically for war, the Dread are terrifying to meet on the battlefield. Portalfig, Lhikevikk and I had managed to stick together and survive everything since the conference; and it took only seconds for a Dread to spear Lhikevikk through his heartlight.

 

“Despite these losses, we have made some significant ground as well; in addition to our acquisitions of BZ-Koro and BZ-Metru, we have managed to take control of both Ta-Metru and Ga-Metru as well. Ta-Metru has always been at the bottom of the barrel to the White Council, and it was easy for us to take; Ga-Metru was easily won over after the White Council bombed the Great Temple. We have also made significant headway into Le-Metru, although thanks to the Dread we have recently been meeting significant resistance. And, as much as I am loathe to admit it, our numbers are beginning to fall. Recruitment is down, and the White Council is beginning to pull in their allies from other regions. If we cannot strike them down now, it may soon be too late.

 

“In a few hours, I leave to lead a small team of only three Matoran, including myself, to try and infiltrate the Coliseum. If we are successful, we may be able to win this war within the week. If we are not… well, I doubt I shall survive to see another sunrise.

 

“This is Voltex Oblige, signing off.”

To Be Continued.
 
REVIEW TOPIC > Who will the other seven narrators be?

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---[VOLTEX]---

 

Something was not right.

 

“Hey, you! What’s your name?!”

 

Voltex turned at the sound of the voice – a Ko-Matoran wearing a black cloak and dragging a massive scythe four times his size behind him. There was only one Matoran in Metru-Nui that would carry around a weapon that obnoxious….

 

“Is that you, Voxumo?” Voltex asked, coughing as he stood to his feet, leaning on the receptionist desk before him.

 

“It is,” the Ko-Matoran said, eyes glinting. His armor was stained a light gray. “And you are?”

 

“Voltex,” the Ba-Matoran said, confused. “I was… don’t you remember me?”

 

Voxumo shook his head, striding forward and pausing several feet away.

 

“Are there any other survivors?” Voltex asked, ignoring the feeling in the back of his mind that something was not right.

 

“A couple more are back there,” the Ko-Matoran said, pointing the way he had come. “They’ve decided to work together and search for survivors right now. You’re the first we’ve found, though.”

 

“That… makes sense?” Voltex replied, unsure.

 

Voxumo nodded. “You’ll also be the last.”

 

About to speak again, Voltex could only groan as Voxumo swung the scythe, catching him in the stomach with the tip of the blade. The Ko-Matoran yanked it out and coldly began to walk away, as Voltex fell to his knees, his world fading away.

 

“You’re doomed, Voltex,” Voxumo called back, his voice echoing strangely. “You just don’t know it yet.”

 

This isn’t right, Voltex thought woozily. It didn’t happen like this….

 

---

 

He blinked, and then he and Blade were sitting across from each other at a desk in an office, Voltex having evidently tried a futile attempt to bring the computer terminal online.

 

“Blade, there’s... something I need to tell you,” he said slowly, tapping the underside of the desk nervously. The words seemed to leave him of their own accord.

 

“What is it?” Blade asked.

 

“I’m the Detective,” Voltex started, causing Blade to burst into a smile that seemed disturbingly sinister.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” the Vo-Matoran interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ve suspected that you were the Detective ever since we found your equipment.”

 

“No, it’s not that,” Voltex muttered, fiddling with the Repulsor Arm. “It’s... Xaeraz made me the Detective for a reason, Blade.”

 

The Vo-Matoran’s gaze narrowed. “And what are you ‘truly doing’, Tex?”

 

He took a deep breath, inwardly battling against the words that were preparing to tumble out of his mouth - he failed, and continued to speak. “I work for the White Council.”

 

That’s not true though, he thought blearily. What’s happening?

 

“You must be lying,” Blade breathed, his mouth hanging open. “How much do you know?”

 

His throat was dry.

 

“I-” Voltex coughed before speaking again, unable to stop himself. “They wanted to get rid of all of their enemies in one stroke, Blade. Anyone that could pose a threat to their rule, eliminated all at once.”

 

Blade shot up and Voltex just barely held back a flinch as the Vo-Matoran stalked towards him, shoving his finger into the Ba-Matoran’s chest and causing Voltex to stumble back.

 

“You disgust me,” Blade snarled, pushing him to the floor, his voice laced with lethal sarcasm. “Why are you here, Tex?”

 

I don’t know.

 

Blade kicked him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Voltex coughed, trying to regain his breath. Another kick – this time he groaned as Blade grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet before hurling him back onto the desk, crashing through the papers and smashing the computer terminal to the floor. Before he could get a grip on his bearings, he was knocked onto the floor on the opposite side – and then he felt the hands close upon his throat from behind.

 

“You son of a Makuta,” Blade whispered. “I’m gonna kill you... we’ve been friends for how long, and you repay me with this? By ensuring my death? By killing everyone that you’ve ever known?!”

 

He grabbed at his throat, trying – and failing – to pull Blade’s fingers away. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He kicked out, lashing against the chair and knocking it to the floor, but could not pull Blade away as the edges of his vision started to fade away.

 

BANG.

 

He slid to the floor with a thud as the grip on his throat suddenly fell away. He gagged as he collapsed onto his side, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Everything swam in front of him as he clawed his way to his feet, a death grip upon the desk. He blinked furiously, glancing to the doorway where he could see a familiar face smiling at him.

 

“Don’t worry,” Unit said, tossing something into the corner and drawing a new gun, aiming it at his head. “You’re next.”

 

BANG.

 

---

 

Voltex jumped the last few steps and landed in front of the door, kicking it open and pointing the gun straight ahead. As he entered the room, however, he faltered – Sumiki was seated at an oaken desk, facing him, and a shotgun aimed at his face. He was thankful for the helmet covering his head.

 

This isn’t right at all….

 

“Welcome to my final resting place,” the former CEO of Hat Enterprises said, opening his arms. “Why don’t you take that helmet off? I’d like to see the face of my killer before I die.”

 

“You know who I am,” Voltex said.

 

“Perhaps,” Sumiki said, shrugging. “But don’t I get one last wish?”

 

Voltex kicked the door shut behind him, pulling the helmet off and dropping it to the floor. Sumiki smiled, appearing satisfied, and sat back in his chair.

 

“So this is what you’ve become,” Voltex said, glancing around. “The great CEO of Hat Enterprises, who managed to cheat Xaeraz and become the richest Matoran in Metru-Nui, reduced to an office chair and a desk inside a basement in BZ-Koro, waiting for his demise.”

 

“I am not perfect, nor am I some sort of god,” Sumiki said, shrugging. “I made mistakes and they have landed me here. I have made peace with my incumbent death, Voltex – but have you?”

 

“It’s you who’s dying tonight, not me.”

 

“Oh, we can both agree on that,” Sumiki replied. “After all, you are ultimately responsible for the deaths of everyone, are you not? Each and every death is your fault.”

 

Voltex glared at him. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with.”

 

“No? Enlighten me,” Sumiki said, his gaze hardening as he stood, pushing his chair back. “Actually, I have a better idea… why don’t you just die now.”

 

BANG.

 

---

 

“Awake at last are we?”

 

He slowly blinked his eyes, staring down at the floor. His head hung low; his arms were held up in the air by chains latched around his wrists, raised like wings. The Ba-Matoran was kneeling; everything about his current position screamed defeat. Unlike in his dreams - as nightmarish, unending and engineered as they were - he did not possess the strength to talk, or even respond at all. He could no longer even muster the strength to look up at the speaker, though he had become very acquainted with their voice over the past month.

 

“What’s the matter?” White One asked softly, crouching beside him. “Are we feeling a little sore today? That’s a shame.”

 

The leader of the White Council stood before speaking again. “You know, a few years back, we captured the leader of another resistance group. For a whole year, those who served him desperately struck us at every turn, with each attempt to rescue him more futile than the last. For an entire year, we held him prisoner; tortured him, lectured him, experimented upon him. For an entire year, we drove him mad.”

 

A chuckle echoed throughout the chamber.

 

“And when the time was ripe… we decided to let him free. Secretly, carefully, we engineered his escape - his rescue. And in return, he turned on his fellows in the resistance and killed them all. Their leaders fallen, their forces scattered… they were gone within a month. All because we decided to show our own form of mercy. All because we decided to show them just how much power we truly have.”

 

White One leaned down, jabbing a finger under Voltex’s chin and lifting his head up; the Ba-Matoran weakly met White One’s gaze.

 

“I shall not pretend that our efforts have been as effective upon you,” White One said. “For one, we have held you for only a month; and despite the more aggressive treatment, that does not account for lost time. But then, I would not want you driven insane. No, Voltex, you are far too valuable to me. I could not allow you to go to such waste.”

 

The White Council leader let him go, and his head dropped to gaze at the floor once more; White One turned away, but continued to direct his words to the chained Ba-Matoran.

 

“I want to see you broken, Voltex,” White One said quietly. “I want you to watch as every single Matoran you have ever known is cut down like blades of grass in an overgrown field. I want you to watch and realize that it is all your fault - this war, this futile conflict, all those endless, bloody deaths. It is all your fault. And I want to be there when you break. I shall make you break. I shall see you shatter, and I should think that I will enjoy it very much. Make no mistake, Voltex - your friends have not yet stopped trying to rescue you. And soon, they shall succeed - because I will it to be so. Soon, we shall transfer you to Ko-Metru; and there, they shall lay siege to your new prison and save you. But how many of them shall perish in the process? How many shall lose their lives on the blind hope that perhaps, for once, the White Council showed them mercy?”

 

Another chuckle echoed in the chamber, in his ears.

 

“I do hope you enjoy,” White One said, pausing briefly as he left. “Oh, and… why don’t you enjoy a few moments of privacy? I do think you deserve some time alone with your thoughts… and I do believe our guards here just expired.”

 

Somewhere within the recesses of his mind, Voltex realized that the two flashes of light that followed meant that his guards were dead.

 

---[bURNMAD]---

 

The bright red Ta-Matoran could barely hear himself think over the sound of the rotor blades spinning above him. The doors into the helicopter were locked open; it was intended to give them both an avenue of escape and attack should they require it, but he had not anticipated going deaf in the process. He glanced up as his pilot, a Matoran of Sonics by the name of Aiwendil, hammered his fist on the metal crate in front of him.

 

“What is it?” Burnmad mouthed.

 

Aiwendil pointed to the radio; nodding in understanding, Burnmad grabbed a helmet and shoved it over his head, wincing as his Kanohi Calix became crooked in the process. Thanks to the helmet’s sound dampening capabilities, the sound of the rotor blades was suddenly almost entirely cut off, allowing him to hear the other two Matoran contacting him.

 

“I repeat, do you read me, Burnmad?”

 

“Loud and clear, Fighty,” Burnmad replied. “What’s up?”

 

“How far are you from Ko-Metru?”

 

“I’ll be at the location in five minutes,” the Ta-Matoran said. “Most of my forces are already attacking, though. Why?”

 

On the other end of the line, he heard Fighty curse softly. The next time someone spoke, it was the voice of Taka Nuvia - an Av-Matoran who had been a calming presence for most of the last year, often the lone voice of reason in a room full of panicked leaders. She had a way of delivering bad news that made it sound less terrible than it actually was.

 

“We’ve received some last minute news about Vahki Dread units guarding the tower,” she said. “Sounds like there are about six squads.”

 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Burnmad muttered. “That’s like, thirty-six of them.”

 

“It’s what we get for destroying that little electronic pulse that the White Council was building,” Fighty said grimly, rejoining the conversation. “Would you rather us all be brainwashed by their ultimate weapon or fight against war machines?”

 

“I shouldn’t have to choose,” Burnmad muttered, glancing out of the copter and frowning. “Hey, I’ve gotta go - we’re getting close to the prison.”

 

“Understood. Be careful,” Fighty ordered, cutting the connection off.

 

I sure will, Burnmad thought to himself. Because that’s totally possible these days….

 

---[JIMING]---

 

Once a rising star in the competitive fighting leagues run in Metru-Nui, for the past year after a brush with death the Ta-Matoran JiMing had been translating those skills as one of the Rebellion’s top combat leaders. Regardless of the situation, he always found a way to either succeed or escape with the lowest loss of life possible; and it was for that reason that he was the one leading the team assigned to personally extract Voltex from the Regolith, Metru-Nui’s largest prison.

 

The helicopter he and his team were inside circled around the monolithic tower as JiMing stood to his feet, glancing at the faces of each member of his team - a Ga-Matoran by the name of Okoth, a Bo-Matoran called Letagi, a Ga-Matoran they all called JMJ, and two Ko-Matoran by the names of Kentai and Arktinen.

 

“Alright, listen up!” JiMing yelled, trying to be heard over the sound of the rotor blades and the various explosions from all around them. “Our goal is to be in and out as fast as possible! Our mission is to save Voltex, and only Voltex - we will not have time to save any stragglers! Do not fall behind! Am I clear?”

 

“Yes!” came the resounding response.

 

JiMing nodded with satisfaction, pointing at Letagi. “Letagi, you’re on rocket duty! Load it up and bring two spares. Any more and we’ll be too weighed down. JMJ, you and I have the Kanoka Disks and grappling gloves. Kentai, take the laser cutter! Arktinen, you have the EMP devices to take out any Dread units! And Okoth, you’re our hacker and sniper! Everyone have their thruster pack and helmet? Good. Letagi, get us an entrance!”

 

The Matoran of Plantlife kneeled next to the open side of the helicopter, pointing the rocket launcher at the Regolith. The Bo-Matoran wobbled, but Kentai quickly grabbed him, holding him in place.

 

“Fire,” JiMing ordered.

 

Letagi fired, immediately reaching under JMJ’s seat to grab a replacement rocket and inserting it into the launcher. Distantly, the explosion of the first rocket hitting the Regolith could be heard; JiMing glanced out and smiled with satisfaction, noting a hole big enough for them to fit through.

 

“Alright,” he yelled. “We’re jumping in three, two, o-”

 

He was sent staggering to the side as something crashed into the helicopter from the front, and would have toppled out if a quick-thinking Kentai had not grabbed him. Cursing, JiMing caught his balance before leaping out of the helicopter, knowing the others would follow. He winced as the helicopter’s warning systems began to blare loudly before activating his thruster pack, aiming himself for the opening in the side of the massive prison tower. He glanced to his right at Okoth and flinched as the shot of a sniper rifle cracked through the air, the bullet brushing the side of his visor and hitting the Ga-Matoran in the neck. Okoth tumbled out of the sky and JiMing grimly re-focused his attentions on his goal. They had just reached the halfway point when Arktinen suddenly spiralled down in front of him in flames; the Ta-Matoran swerved to avoid the screaming Ko-Matoran before fixing his trajectory.

 

A rocket flew past him, missing the Ta-Matoran by inches; he cursed, increasing his thrusters and speeding towards the hole, counting down in his head.

 

Three, two, one!

 

JiMing deactivated the thruster pack and it automatically removed itself from his body as he flew through the hole, somersaulting across the floor of an office before kicking off to jump over a desk and slamming into the wall right next to a door that he assumed led into a hallway before ducking down as Kentai, JMJ and Letagi all reached the room.

 

“Activate cloaking!” he ordered.

 

No sooner had he given the order than the door was smashed off of its hinges, slamming onto the floor. All four Matoran froze, cloaked and invisible - JiMing and JMJ crouched in one corner, Letagi across from them, and Kentai just a few feet away from the door itself - as the hulking, mechanical form of a Vahki Dread stepped into the room, the door cracking under its weight.

 

“Oh, karz….” JiMing whispered, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

 

The Dread unit stepped further into the room, followed by another - and a third shoved its way inside as well. All three Vahki Dread units stood in a huddle, gazing around the room and scanning everything. Slowly, mechanically, their systems searched for a sign of movement.

 

Don’t move, JiMing silently pleaded. Please don’t move.

 

As if in response to his mental prayer, the lead unit stepped closer to where Kentai stood, frozen. The other two followed; as their glowing red eyes turned away from him, JiMing slowly reached down and grabbed the grenade attached to his hip, slowly pulling the pin and counting down.

 

Five… four….

 

The lead Dread was towering over Kentai.

 

Three… two….

 

Kentai dove to the side as the lead unit stepped where he had been standing a moment before; as all three Vahki Dread turned their gazes upon him, JiMing tossed the grenade out the window and it exploded; without hesitation, the lead unit turned and lunged out the hole, leaving an even larger one behind as it took off after the sound. JiMing had barely finished breathing his sigh of relief, however, when the second Dread turned back to Kentai and a red light flashed upon the Ko-Matoran; the cloaking system deactivated a split second before Kentai was incinerated by a laser.

 

In one smooth motion, Letagi deactivated his cloaking system and dove towards the door lying on the ground, rolling into a crouched position and hefting the rocket launcher on his right shoulder. As the third Dread unit spun around at the motion, Letagi fired; the rocket hit the Dread in its chest and exploded, blasting the third unit apart and sending all three Matoran and the last Dread unit tumbling into the walls. Without wasting a second, JiMing pulled JMJ to his feet and threw him out the door before racing out of the room himself; Letagi stumbled after them before catching his balance and the three Matoran sprinted down the hallway as the Vahki Dread burst out of the room, firing electrical blasts at them that scorched them as they flew past. JiMing loaded a weakening disk into his launcher and fired it, hitting the Dread unit dead-on before turning back the other way just in time to slide around a corner, falling on the slippery floor and scrambling back to his feet as JMJ fired several shots from a handgun at the Vahki before tossing the empty weapon aside.

 

“Where’s the elevator shaft?!” JiMing yelled.

 

“Should be around the next corner,” JMJ said, panting.

 

“Letagi, rocket! Now!”

 

The Bo-Matoran obliged, whirling around and loading another rocket, firing it at the Dread; it missed and hit the wall next to the Vahki, blowing it across the hallway and through the opposite wall. With it temporarily out of commission, the three Matoran continued running down the hall, approaching an intersection with two hallways.

 

“Which way?” JiMing asked.

 

Before Letagi could reply, several blasts from the Dread hit the ceiling directly ahead, bringing it down on top of them; JMJ dove into the other hall while both Letagi and JiMing slid across the floor, ducking and dodging around the rubble before stumbling after the Ga-Matoran.

 

“JMJ, give me your disk launcher,” JiMing ordered.

 

The Ga-Matoran passed it over and JiMing loaded two more weakening disks, firing them at the ceiling down the hall before dropping the launchers and pushing the other two Matoran forward into a run once more. The floor rumbled beneath them as the Vahki Dread continued its pursuit; up ahead, the closed doors of the elevator loomed.

 

“Letagi, get us through!”

 

Letagi slid into a crouched position and aimed his final rocket, firing and tossing the useless launcher away; JiMing hauled him to his feet and shoved him ahead, racing after the rocket. It sped towards the doors and exploded; grabbing onto Letagi, JMJ fired the hook from his grappling glove through the hole, flying into the air as it latched onto something on the other side and began dragging him through. JiMing whirled around and grabbed his handgun, taking aim and firing at the ceiling; it began to collapse, quickly burying the Vahki Dread.

 

Then his eyes widened as it continued to fall towards him. Turning back, he raced after JMJ and Letagi, disappearing through the doors; at the last second he took a leap of faith, diving through the hole just before the ceiling could collapse on top of him. The Ta-Matoran took aim with his grapple glove and fired as he fell through the large elevator shaft; the hook latched onto a non-functioning hydraulics system and he swung into the wall, letting loose a curse upon impact. A second later, both JMJ and Letagi joined him; the three Matoran remained silent for a minute, panting for breath, before Letagi finally broke the silence.

 

“I can’t believe that worked.”

 

“Come on,” JiMing said, looking for a way down. “Let’s find Voltex.”

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

“This is JiMing - we’ve got Voltex, extracting now. Is our ride ready?”

 

“Burnmad here - we’re touching down now. Portal, where are you?”

 

The Onu-Matoran scowled as the visual interface on his visor glitched; he could barely see through the numerous fractures. Coughing, he slowly stood to his feet, flinching as the remains of his ride into Ko-Metru burst into flames.

 

“I’m a little busy,” he replied. “I’ll be a minute.”

 

Tossing his helmet away, Portalfig adjusted his orange Pakari, looking over the battlefield below. Luckily, his ride had crashed on top of one of the smaller outpost towers surrounding the prison - he did not have to worry about surviving the worst of the fighting down below.

 

ZING!!

 

“Karz,” he muttered, ducking behind the wreckage at the sound of a sniper shot whizzing by.

 

Peaking over the wreckage, he tracked where the shot had come from and spotted a familiar midnight blue form standing atop the nearest guard tower, having turned away. Another shot cracked through the air and he saw one of the Rebellion’s copters spiral out of the sky. Slowly reaching out with his left arm, Portalfig aimed as best as he could and then activated the grappling glove; the hook shot through the air and latched onto the other guard tower; and then he was airborne.

 

With a yell, Portalfig used his momentum to flip onto the top of the other tower, grabbing the sniper rifle and yanking it out of the other Matoran’s hands. The midnight blue figure - a Ko-Matoran serving the White Council known only as Agent 64 - punched him in the face and sent him sprawling. With another cry, Portalfig tackled her off the edge and they tumbled toward the ground; Agent 64 shoved him away and vanished in a cloud of snow, while Portalfig activated the grappling glove again, saving himself at the last second from splattering on the ground. He swung through the air and jumped, landing in a run as he sprinted towards the lone helicopter waiting on the ground and clambered into it.

 

“Glad to see you made it,” Burnmad said, before turning to the pilot. “Let’s go!”

 

“What about Voltex?”

 

“He’s in the back,” Burnmad said. “He’s… well, he’s alive. I guess that’s something.”

 

“Anything else I should know?”

 

The Ta-Matoran shrugged. “He’s been out of it since JiMing brought him back. It’s gonna take time.”

 

“Time isn’t something we have,” Portalfig replied. “And I can’t help but wonder why they left him alive - I mean, they’ve killed everyone else without a second thought. Why keep Voltex alive?”

 

“I guess we’ll find out when he wakes up.”

To Be Continued.

 

REVIEW TOPIC > Why do you think Voltex was kept alive? What are White One's plans?

And also, I'm terribly sorry about the wait that you now have to deal with for Chapter 2 - since it's a big one! Perhaps I'll sneak in some extra content in between. ;)

Edited by Strange Festive Voltex
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[FROM THE FILES OF VOLTEX]

Canis swears that he saw Xaeraz in the distance today during our defense of the Great Temple. Says he saw Xaeraz standing on one of the rooftops across the road - knew it was him because of the body. Supposedly, he recognized Xaeraz’s body… jumbled together like he pieced himself together from a junkyard.

 

I told him to go and rest. Whatever he’s saying is impossible. Xaeraz is dead - Burnmad saw to that… his survival is impossible. Nobody lives through having their face blasted apart.

 

Although I’ve encountered some worrying post-mortem moments of my own… prisoners and enemy soldiers supposedly acting on orders given to them directly by White Ten. I killed White Ten myself - it must be some sort of mind game that the White Council is playing. I’ll have to gather Burnmad and the others, let them know.

 

Warn them.

 

That’s all I have time for today. I have to meet with Lhikevikk soon, go over the rumors of a new Vahki production line.

 

I found a Shadow Matoran today calling himself Toad - only surviving member of the team that was sent to assault a White Council outpost in Po-Metru. We ran into him in the middle of a street full of corpses - he somehow took down a whole squadron of soldiers on his own while retreating.

 

I don’t know how he did it. I also don’t care. I hate him. He’s truly a horrible, horrible Matoran - his manners are atrocious, and his attitude seems designed specifically to bother Matoran like Taka Nuvia and I.

 

That isn’t important - his battle record is. I took a quick look through the operations he’s been a part of; his skills on the battlefield have been consistently admired by his commanders. I’ll be promoting him tomorrow, giving him his own platoon. We could use more Matoran like him that are willing to do the dirty work.

 

We lost Baltarc today.

 

It was horrible. At first, we thought we were winning… we thought that this might be the battle that would finally get us control over Le-Metru. But then they appeared.

 

The troops have taken to calling them the “Triplets”. So have we.

 

They came out of nowhere; one moment we were winning, and the next moment I was watching as they each grabbed Baltarc and ripped him apart. Within seconds. The troops were terrified; we lost control immediately. The Triplets easily won the battle.

 

It’s the first time that we’ve had to retreat from a battle in three weeks.

 

Morale, of course, is at an all-time low.

 

I have to go meet with Burnmad and Fighty now; see if we can find a way to boost the soldiers back up.

 

We are rapidly losing ground.

 

Portalfig, Lhikevikk and I went out together on a scouting mission in Po-Metru. Partially because it needed to be done; mostly because the three of us wanted some time alone. We are the only Matoran aside from Pulse that survived the Conference - Pulse is currently busy down south trying to gather allies. JiMing and Shadowhawk don’t count, not to me - we did not know they were alive until much later.

 

I digress.

 

It was supposed to be a more relaxing venture - it was anything but. We walked straight into an ambush; Portalfig and I narrowly escaped with our lives.

 

Lhikevikk is dead.

 

The White Council’s rumored new line of Vahki… were not rumors. Officially, they have been labelled as the “Vahki 2.0” series, although I doubt that name shall stick for long. I still shudder with dread at the thought of facing them in battle.

 

I must meet with Burnmad shortly. Our plans shall have to be adjusted.

 

Man… Lhikevikk…

 

I’m gonna miss him.

 

We lost MT and Valendale today during a battle. We took part of Le-Metru under control, so I guess we succeeded… but it still hurts to see more of my closest friends and allies being picked off one by one as victims of this conflict.

 

I think Valendale has it easiest; he was killed while personally duelling White Five. He did it knowing that it was a suicide move - I am the only one who has survived battling against a member of the White Council, and it took crashing an airship on top of him to do it. Valendale never stood a chance… but he did last long enough to buy us the time we needed to advance and push the enemy forces back.

 

MT, on the other hand… he was taken prisoner by White Four. I believe he is scheduled to be hung from the Coliseum tomorrow morning.

 

There is nothing we can do to help him.

 

You know, until today, I’d almost forgotten about Agent 64. She hasn’t really played too large of a role in this war; occasional sightings or physical confrontations, but otherwise she seems to remain in the shadows.

 

She sniped Canis from afar today.

 

Outside of those I knew before the Conference (or met at the Conference), Canis was my closest confidant - in fact, I often shared things with him that I shared with nobody else. I knew that I could trust him no matter what happened.

 

Now he’s gone.

 

Everyone is, eventually. I grow weary.

 

Weary of everything.

[END OF RECORDS]

 

Edited by CHRIS PRATT
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[FROM THE FILES OF BURNMAD]

My heart is still racing after the battle with White Ten a week ago. I lost several allies and friends that day - Ehks, Squishy, Automaton, Xaeraz. But I’ve been through this before. I have thrived in this before. Now is when I stand.

 

While we wait for Voltex to return to Metru-Nui, I must make battle plans. We managed to slip into BZ-Metru unseen a few nights ago, but our presence will not remain hidden from the White Council for much longer. I need a plan - we must strike before they do. If we can claim BZ-Metru as our own, we will have a foothold in Metru-Nui that shall be difficult for the White Council to shake.

 

Once we take BZ-Metru, Ta-Metru is next. Despite my best efforts while I was undercover, I never found out why the White Council despises Ta-Metru so much. They obviously have nothing against Ta-Matoran, since they placed me in charge of their secret task force… so what is it about that Metru that causes them to ignore it?

 

Perhaps if we find out, we might find some clue to defeating the White Council… or perhaps not.

 

I would not ignore something that could destroy me… unless I feared it.

 

Ta-Metru is ours! After we took BZ-Koro with surprising ease (the acquisition of most of the Bionifight and Technic Coliseum leagues probably helped), I had honestly expected the White Council to put up more of a fight; that was obviously not the case. With two Metru under our control, we should be able to maintain our presence in Metru-Nui.

 

Hopefully, we can take control of the other Metru soon; Ga-Metru would be useful for those troops that still believe that Mata-Nui might in any way bless us. I’d personally rather take Onu-Metru… the Archives could prove useful. However, in order to reach Onu-Metru, we must first take Le-Metru… and that shall be difficult beyond measure.

 

Where Ta-Metru has long been ignored and left to its own devices, Le-Metru has been one of the White Council’s favorites. It was part of the reason why I kept Automaton stationed in the Moto Hub for so long; the last place the White Council looks for spies is within their own ranks, and most of Le-Metru has remained in support of the White Council at worst… and ambivalent towards both sides at best.

 

Still, hope is good.

 

Things have been slower since we took control of Ta-Metru. I’ve had some time to catch my breath, relax, look back at everything that has happened.

 

The first thing I should note is that Fighty is alive… somehow. When he and Voltex came to see me, I’m ashamed to admit that I nearly screamed. I’ve always said that there are no such things as ghosts - I mean, karz, sometimes I don’t think I even believe in Mata-Nui. But there he was… of course, it’s not exactly the Fighty I knew.

 

This Fighty came from another dimension, where the White Council took control of Metru-Nui easily, without resistance, and constructed a massive electronic pulse that instantly enslaved almost the entire city to them. A very select few Matoran - Fighty among them - remained unaffected. I asked him if anyone else that I knew had been strong enough mentally to resist the pulse.

 

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

 

Of course, the pulse did not affect Matoran of Psionics; so the likes of Shadow Ignited and Scanty remained free. Fighty himself, of course. Other than that… so few that I can count them on one hand. Xaeraz was one, unsurprisingly. JiMing and Shadowhawk were others - the former surprised me. It makes me wonder if we should put them both in leadership roles… the only other Matoran I recognized the names of were Agni and Quisoves Pugnat, leader of the Triplets.

 

The tale that Fighty told was fascinating - together, he banded with Xaeraz, Scanty, Quisoves and JiMing to lead those that remained free in a last ditch effort to storm the Coliseum. They failed, of course, but Fighty managed to reach a dimensional gate that the White Council had constructed, and he transported himself here. He met his self from this dimension and together created the Resistance, gathering Xaeraz, Agni and myself to lead it.

 

Oh - it looks like I have to go for now.

 

Well, yesterday was a close call. Luckily, Fighty wasn’t lying about those secret additions to the Bionifight arena; it really is bomb proof.

 

I guess we have a base of operations now.

 

To get back to what I was discussing yesterday… Fighty. You know, I really wish he’d shared this info with me before. I mean, I understand why he didn’t… but still….

 

As much as I grew to distrust him after rescuing him from the White Council, I do miss Xaeraz. Agni was alright, if a little boring, and the Fighty from our universe was always a little uptight (although I suppose he had a reason to be). But Xaeraz was always up-front with some snark to lighten the mood.

 

And I have to admit, surviving what he did is an impressive feat.

 

Oh well.

 

To the days that we’ve lost, I suppose.

 

I ran into Lloyd for the first time in months today at the White Wolf Pub. He used to be the only one running the place, but he’s been expanding for quite some time. I managed to catch him on his shift and caught up a little bit. Tried to get him to join us against the White Council; rumor has it that Lloyd managed to outsmart a Makuta attempting to take control of some island called Voya-Nui centuries ago, and that he’s been on the Brotherhood’s watchlist ever since.

 

He refused my offer, although I guess I can understand why. At his age… I’d be wary of joining any war as well. I think he’s earned his rest.

 

Still… having what is rumored to be one of the greatest strategists in the known universe on our side would have been helpful, I’m sure. Maybe I can convince him to join us eventually… maybe….

 

Voltex met with me today, wanted to talk about some Shadow Matoran he found called “ToaD” or something. He seems unsure of how to pronounce it - is it “Toa Dee” or “Toad”? Karz if I know, but whatever. He insists that we promote ToaD, as if I would ever disagree with him.

 

Well, disagree with him in public. There are many things Voltex does that I don’t agree with - namely the fact that we have him running this army when he’s still barely recovered from what Luroka did to him. That lightstone Ehks gave him seemed to do the trick fine enough until he got enough Av-Matoran to use that machine. I swear, I thought he was going to cry when he finally gathered MT, Taka Nuvia and that other Matoran… the “Rider of Kikinalo”.

 

Hopefully we haven’t made a mistake putting Voltex in charge… not that I could stop it, anyway. There’s just something about him… I can’t quite put my finger on it. But even I want to follow him. It doesn’t make sense.

 

No, it isn’t possible.

 

It can’t be possible. There’s no way.

 

No way in Karzahni.

 

I swear I saw Xaeraz today… lurking in the shadows… no, no, I must have been hallucinating. The stress must be getting to my head. It couldn’t be him. He’s dead… I saw to that myself….

 

I should go rest.

 

Voltex, Portalfig and Pulse have been insufferable for the past several days. Just wallowing in grief. I mean, I get it - I really do. I get that Lhikevikk died. I get that they were close.

 

But… we’re at war. We can’t afford to sit back and cry over every lost friend. We need to keep pushing.

 

I have Taka Nuvia trying to talk Voltex back to his senses right now; Pulse seems to have gotten over the worst of it (even if he’s a little angrier now) and Portalfig appears to be dealing with it via silent treatment (which is fine enough by me, since he’s gone most days anyway), but Voltex… he’s just been sitting in his quarters, staring at a wall. I think he blasted four of the locker rooms apart.

 

I don’t think that this is… usual for him. I think he’s still suffering from Luroka’s attack on his mind. He’s not quite himself yet… who knows if he’ll ever be.

 

I need to get back to planning.

 

Well….

 

Voltex is gone. He left on a mission to infiltrate the Coliseum two days ago with Tiribomba, Kodu and Krena; we found the other three’s bodies strung up from the Coliseum in place of MT’s this morning. No word yet on if Voltex is alive and captive or if they’ve slain him as well.

 

The troops need to be calmed down… I’ve had to throw responsibility onto Taka Nuvia and JiMing for the time being while I try to find out what’s going on.

 

So Voltex is alive, at least. I guess that’s something, although I can’t help but feel as though he might be better off dead. Nothing good comes of being the White Council’s prisoner; and if it’s anything like what Xaeraz went through, then I’m afraid of what we’ll find if we rescue him.

 

But a rescue mission is guaranteed regardless; the troops are in an uproar, and Portalfig brought back intel noting that we might be able to extract Voltex within the next month.

 

Until then… I guess we’ll see what happens.

 

We rescued Voltex four days ago - he hasn’t spoken a word to anybody since JiMing got him out of the Regolith. He’s staying at an inn in Ta-Metru for the time being; his location is only known by myself, Fighty, and a select few others.

 

I’m trying to give him time to recover, but… well, we’re running out of time. I need to know - soon - whether or not he can continue to lead us in this war.

 

And if he can’t… then I hope we have a successor.

[END OF RECORDS]

 

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Edited by Strange Festive Voltex
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  • 2 weeks later...

gallery_96949_250_75814.jpg

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

Portalfig had never forgotten the time that he went undercover to root out a terrorist organization - and for the past three months, it had been the only thing on his mind. The identity of “Tavahka” was slowly becoming synonymous with his own, and on the bad days, the Onu-Matoran was beginning to wonder just which side of this war he was really on.

 

He stepped into the Coliseum, forcing down his trepidation - if the White Council detected nervousness, they would become suspicious… and if they became suspicious, then there might not be any more Portalfig or Tavahka at all.

 

“Tavahka?”

 

Silently thanking Mata-Nui that he had not flinched, Portalfig turned to the speaker, whom he was becoming very familiar with; it was none other than the sleekly armored White Seven, a member of the White Council that had been taking a particular interest in him as of late. The White Turaga’s eyes glinted as he waved the Onu-Matoran over. As he had learned to do early on, Portalfig stopped a foot away and got down on one knee, kneeling to White Seven, who nodded with satisfaction as Portalfig stood again.

 

“I have missed you these past few days,” White Seven said casually, putting his arm around the Onu-Matoran’s shoulders and starting to walk in the directions of the weapon laboratories. “Might I inquire as to your location?”

 

“I ran into some rebellion members while on a patrol in Le-Metru,” Portalfig lied. “I was following them to their outpost, but got caught by some rogue Vahki Dread units. I’ve been lying low to try and avoid their attention.”

 

“Rogue units, eh?” White Seven repeated, sounding interested. “You shall have to lead me to them as soon as possible.”

 

White Seven stopped outside of an unmarked room; the door slid open for him, and they both stepped through the doorway. Portalfig recognized the form of White One standing at a control panel in the far corner; and the three Matoran on the glowing white platform in the center of the room were none other than Quisoves Pugnat, Underscore, and Cyrix… although to both the Rebellion and White Council, the three were more commonly known as-

 

“The Triplets,” White Seven said, interrupting his train of thought, “are leaving for a rather… shall we say, secretive mission. They have proven their loyalty to us time and time again, and as a result, have been gifted this honor. Continue to serve us as you have, and you might find yourself rewarded with some secret projects of your own. But come - I have something a little more public in mind for you right now.”

 

Portalfig nodded, silently following White Seven out of the room and resisting the urge to glance back at the Triplets.

 

---

 

When they reached White Seven’s office, Portalfig took the seat offered to him. White Seven chuckled as he too sat down, bringing up a holographic display that seemed to display a chart regarding a set of statistics.

 

“We take the time to grade every single one of our higher lieutenants,” White Seven explained. “Those three dots at the very top, with perfect scores? Those are the Triplets. If they could actually be relied upon for leadership, we would promote them further; as it stands, they are of better use on the battlefield. You made it onto this list a month ago; your scores are, so far, remarkable. Your loyalty is unwavering, and I have yet to find an occasion where you would refuse to follow my orders.”

 

“...what is this leading up to?” Portalfig asked.

 

“I’m promoting you to be my advisor, Tavahka,” White Seven said. “Now, I say ‘advisor’... but truly, you would be more of an assistant. You will remain by my side at all times unless I require you to be somewhere else; you would also be given the highest security clearance I can procure from White One. You would accompany me even to our most secret of locations and projects, to assist me however possible. How does that sound?”

 

Alarms went off in the Onu-Matoran’s mind - but there was nothing he could do. To refuse would be to give White Seven an excuse to have him executed; to express any discomfort or hesitation at all would cause a loss of trust.

 

“That sounds fantastic,” he said, hoping to buy himself some time. “When do I begin?”

 

The White Turaga grinned. “You already have.”

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

He glanced to the door of his hotel room, lying back against the headboard of his bed with a sigh of relief when he realized that it was just Burnmad. The Ta-Matoran spared him a glance before pulling the chair out from the desk and taking a seat in silence. Neither of them spoke for several minutes; Voltex because, even two weeks later, he was still exhausted; and Burnmad because he just did not know what to say.

 

Or so Voltex assumed, anyway. Over the past fourteen days he had slowly been realizing that the others did not have any idea how broken he may or may not be - unfortunately, he himself was also lacking that information. Nonetheless, it was becoming clear that Burnmad was not going to start a conversation anytime soon, so the Ba-Matoran spoke.

 

“What happened while I was…. away?”

 

Burnmad spared him a surprised glance - until now, he had not spoken to anyone except Portalfig - but managed to find his voice in time to avoid the silence becoming awkward.

 

“A couple things,” the Ta-Matoran said vaguely. “We managed to secure Le-Metru, for one - so we’ve got the entire southern and eastern sections of the city under our control now. All that’s left is Po-Metru, Ko-Metru, Onu-Metru and the Coliseum. Of course, Ko-Metru is a bit of a mess right now… we’re thinking of trying to capture it within the next few days, but we wanted to get the final word from you first.”

 

Voltex shook his head wearily. “I don’t really care what you decide to do, Burnmad. I’m not even certain that I can lead a war anymore. Too many Matoran are dying on my account - dying at my command. How many did you lose just to rescue me from that prison?”

 

“We… aren’t entirely sure,” Burnmad said.

 

“No? Because Portalfig gave me the numbers before he left,” the Ba-Matoran repled. “He said you’re missing nearly fifty. Almost half a hundred Matoran lost in an attempt to save me. I’m not so sure that can be counted as a victory, Burnmad - or that it should have been done at all.”

 

“It was worth it,” the Ta-Matoran replied. “I don’t know what it is about you but… Matoran just want to follow you. I can lead Matoran into battle, Taka Nuvia can calm them down - but until you walk into the room, they’re never certain. But as soon as you’re there, explaining everything, it’s like they just flip one-eighty degrees. They’ll follow you until the end.”

 

The Ba-Matoran shook his head. “That’s not what I want. Not any longer. Burnmad… you didn’t just rescue me. That’s not how the White Council works - my rescue was engineered. They wanted you to save me, although I’m not yet sure why that is. But I do know that I was being held underneath the Coliseum until right before the rescue; I can’t have been in Ko-Metru for more than two days.”

 

“But….” Burnmad trailed off, looking confused. “Why would they want us to rescue you?”

 

“I’ve thought long and hard about that the past two weeks,” Voltex said, shrugging. “So far, I can’t think of any particular reasons why. But White One himself told me that the rescue was only happening because they had allowed it. Whatever they’re planning… I have a feeling that they want me in charge of the Rebellion.”

 

“So what are you suggesting that we do?”

 

“I’m trying to decide that now,” Voltex replied, stepping off the bed. “You know, I think it’s time I stopped moping about in here and re-joined whatever is left of society. Could you pass me my gun and sword?”

 

“Yeah, here,” Burnmad said, passing them to him before pointing at his right arm. “What happened there?”

 

Voltex glanced down at his arm - it was heavily scarred, the armor pitted and scratched. It still hurt to move, and every now and then he could feel the knife digging into it, carving his flesh - he shook the image out of his mind.

 

“Early in my capture, White One cut the Repulsor Arm off of me,” he explained. “He… didn’t really bother taking care to make sure that it was done properly. It was step one in ‘make Voltex hurt as much as possible’.”

 

As he threw on his cloak, Voltex caught the gun Burnmad tossed to him and set it in its holster at his waist before accepting the sword handed to him as well. Burnmad stood and replaced the chair where it had been before he arrived, stretching. The Ta-Matoran opened his mouth to say something before pausing, a look of confusion on his face. A second later, it turned into suspicion.

 

“...do you hear that ticking?” he asked.

 

The Ba-Matoran froze, gripping his sword tightly and listening closely.

 

Tick.

 

Tick.

 

Tick.

 

Tick.

 

Tick.

 

“...I do,” he whispered.

 

“Where’s it coming from?” Burnmad asked, glancing around. “If it’s a bomb, then we need to get out of-”

 

The Ta-Matoran was cut off as the far wall exploded, blasting both Matoran off of their feet and revealing the lava fields outside. Voltex rolled across the floor and grabbed his disk launcher as soon as he had oriented himself, grabbing a fragmentation disk and firing it at the lone figure visible. The figure activated a glowing red sword and swung it up, slicing the disk in two.

 

“Come on, we gotta run!” Burnmad yelled, pulling him up to his feet and shouldering the door open, activating a pair of weaponized gauntlets. “Let’s go!”

 

Both Matoran sprinted down the hallway of the hotel as the rooms behind them began to explode one by one; the building shook ominously as they reached the reception area, Burnmad screaming for the other Matoran there to evacuate. Another explosion - Voltex pulled Burnmad out of the way as a chandelier fell to the floor, grimacing as the shards of glass sliced at his legs. Ignoring the Ta-Matoran’s panicked thanks, Voltex raced towards the glass doors, leaping through them with a crash as the building caved in on itself, the force propelling him and Burnmad into the center of the street as a cloud of dust billowed out from the wreckage.

 

Voltex groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, helping Burnmad up a second later. Both coughed as the dust cleared, and Voltex glanced to the hotel - the figure stood atop the wreckage, staring at them, glowing sword in hand.

 

“Nobody dodges bullets,” Voltex muttered, drawing his handgun.

 

He fired six shots in rapid succession at the figure. who threw the arm not holding the red energy sword in front of them, activating a pulsing blue energy shield that shot out, reflecting the bullets into the sky. Voltex tossed the useless gun away as the figure deactivated the shield and leaned towards them before shooting forwards with blinding speed and vanishing, clouds of shadow bursting from the ground in a straight line headed right for them.

 

The two Matoran leaped backwards as the hooded figure suddenly reappeared in between them, swinging the energy sword in a wide arc. As he landed, Voltex immediately smacked the hilt of the sword and kicked the figure’s arm, loosening their hold on the sword before ducking under another swing. Burnmad stepped forward and punched with the gauntlets, crying out in pain as the energy sword sliced right through them. The Ta-Matoran stumbled back, tossing them off and clutching at his hands as Voltex lunged forward again, elbowing the cloaked figure in the chest and smacking the energy sword away.

 

Shadows billowed from the figure’s cloak, obscuring their face from even mere inches away. Eyes narrowed, Voltex failed to notice the punch aimed at his chest; he was sent flying backwards with surprising strength and skidded down the road, fighting back a cry of pain as he flipped onto his stomach and pushed himself back to his feet as Burnmad pulled out his sword and swung it at the figure, who stepped back and vanished in a cloud of shadow, reappearing down the street and pulling out a small device from within their cloak that rapidly expanded into-

 

“-is that a grenade launcher?” Burnmad asked.

 

With a thunk, the figure fired a small cylinder towards them. Both Matoran watched as it flew up in an arc and landed at their feet, Voltex diving in front of Burnmad at the last second - exploding on impact and sending them both flying. Voltex cried out as he hit the ground, pieces of armor flying off of his right side on impact, shrapnel piercing the vulnerable parts underneath. Burnmad raced over and helped him to his feet; both flinched as the third floor of the building behind them exploded. Down the streets, the figure slowly approached, firing grenades at the buildings on either side of the street and blasting them apart.

 

“Who is this?” Burnmad asked. “I had no idea that the White Council could load this much firepower onto someone….”

 

“This isn’t White Council,” Voltex replied, cutting back a groan. “This… is something else entirely.”

 

Nodding grimly, Burnmad gripped his sword more tightly as fire burst to life upon the blade of his sword; Voltex shakily drew his own sword after ripping off his cloak, letting it flutter to the ground.

 

“Alright,” Burnmad said. “We attack on three. One… two...thr-”

 

The shadowy figure lunged in their direction, vanishing and reappearing right before them in a cloud of shadow. They threw the grenade launcher to the side, flipping a switch on its side, and it exploded as it made contact with a small apartment complex, causing the front half of the building to collapse. Voltex and Burnmad swung their swords in a ferocious attack that the figure held off with no issues, drawing a shining katana and repelling each of their attacks with ease, quickly disarming Voltex and kicking him away. Before he could get to his feet again, Burnmad hit the ground with a crunch beside him and the figure tossed a small metal sphere with a blinking red light at them - the bomb exploded, blasting them both into the rubble.

 

Voltex, who had been closer, could only let out a drawn out gasp of shock and pain as shrapnel tore through his right arm and leg, ripping his arm half out of its socket and tearing into the muscles in his leg. The Ba-Matoran reached out with his left hand and used the rubble to weakly pull himself back into a standing position, observing the shrapnel sticking out his right side and the amount of armor that had been blasted off. He was dripping blood from virtually every surface on his right side - which was saying something, since there was no way he should still be alive.

 

Dizzy and disoriented, Voltex gingerly reached up to his mask, grimacing as a piece fell off of the chin. Part of the Kanohi Volitak had broken off, blocking most of his right eye. Slowly, he turned back to the shadowy figure, slowly approaching them from the street. A few feet away, lower on the pile of rubble, Burnmad was pushing himself back up, his armor pitted and scarred.

 

On the street, the figure flicked their right arm down and several metal bars running the length of their arm shot out, rapidly encircling the figure’s arm. A barrel the length and diameter of the figure’s arm spun as it slowly formed underneath; the figure pointed it directly at Burnmad and fired; a flash of orange, white, and green shot out of the cannon and hit the Ta-Matoran in the back, blasting right through his body. Burnmad let out a low groan as he stumbled, the hole in his stomach rapidly expanding.

 

Shoving the piece of his mask away to clear his sight, Voltex stared down in horror at the Ta-Matoran - the hole was not just growing - his body was rusting.

 

“What’s… happening… to me?” Burnmad said hoarsely, weakly.

 

The rust reached his legs first and then Burnmad’s torso - or what was left of it - fell backwards through the air, arms and head splitting apart mid-flight and falling to the ground, collapsing as they rapidly turned to rust. Seconds later, nothing was left of Burnmad’s legs or arms at all. Voltex stumbled back, stunned and in shock, as the shadowy figure lunged forward and vanished again; this time reappearing just long enough to grab him and toss him down to the street. The Ba-Matoran landed on his left shoulder, in the perfect position to watch as the last of Burnmad’s head slowly rolled onto the street, the Ta-Matoran’s eyes dull before they, too, were gone.

 

“No,” Voltex sobbed, reaching out weakly with his right arm. “Burnmad….”

 

Useless.”

 

He was kicked onto his back by the figure, towering above him. The Ba-Matoran raised his ruined right arm to shield himself, as a pair of glowing red eyes and the rough outline of a Kanohi Mask appeared in the shadows billowing out from the figure’s cloak.

 

“Who are you?” Voltex asked weakly, coughing. “Who… sent you… here?”

 

“I am the Shadow,” the figure said, taking aim even as Voltex desperately tried to pull his broken body out of harm’s way, “and I was sent to restore order.”

 

“You….”

 

“White Council… rebellions… always making a mess of the universe.” The figure said darkly. “A mess that I’ve got to clean up. Your greatest fear… you truly believe that you are the center of the universe? That you alone may throw this universe out of balance? Do you believe that so many should fall at your command?”

 

Voltex’s head hit the ground hard as he collapsed, weak and out of breath.

 

“As if they had never existed.” The figure said, pointing the rust cannon directly at him. “Your punishment, then, is to no longer exist.”

 

In one last, desperate gambit to survive, Voltex pushed himself to his feet, gasping. The Shadow fired, the blast hitting him in the hip. The Ba-Matoran silently began to fall, his right leg immediately disconnecting, as the rust began to eat away at him. The Shadow stared at him impassively as he fell, the world fading away-

 

-WHOOSH!

 

A blast of ice caught Voltex in the side, knocking him sideways and to the ground before freezing him in place, overtaking the rust and stopping its assault. As he lay upon the ground, watching sideways, a midnight blue Matoran swung a katana with a blade of ice at the Shadow, who vanished; in the blink of an eye, Agent 64 had taken out her blaster and frozen a sphere around herself and Voltex. Tossing the weapon to the side, she threw down a metal plate on the ground and stepped onto it, grabbing Voltex’s left shoulder tightly.

 

“You better remember this when you wake up,” she said.

 

His vision fading, he saw the sphere shatter, the Shadow swinging a blade of pure darkness at them - and then they were gone.

 

Everything faded to black.

To Be Continued.

 

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---[AGENT 64]---

 

Long ago, her armor had been sleek and white - and while the former was still true, the latter was not. When she had been hired under Control, she had determined that white was not a color well-suited for stealth; and so she had changed it all to a color that matched the night sky.

 

Now, as she watched from the observation deck over the various tests being run on the Matoran of Gravity known as Voltex, she blended still with the shadows in the room, unnoticed by those who walked past. A variety of scientists and medical experts were operating on Voltex, repairing the damage done to him and improving what had been there before - upgrading him to what had been deemed the ‘Matoran Nuva’ design, although it had already been discovered that Voltex’s armor was stronger than usual.

 

Now he would have the physical prowess to match the strength of his armor.

 

“When I said that you needed to keep him alive, I did not mean to watch over him while he remains in our hands,” a voice said from behind her.

 

“I feel somewhat responsible,” she replied, pulling out the sword that she had recovered from Ta-Metru the day before, after returning to the wreckage the battle had left behind. “And I feel as though I should give him this.”

 

She concentrated on the sword and the blade burst into flames - she loosened her grip and the fire died, allowing her to sheathe the sword again. The Matoran known to her only as Control stepped forward to stand on her left, hands folded neatly behind their back as they observed the progress being made.

 

“You did well,” Control continued. “That being said… you cut it very close.”

 

“I had not heard of the enemy they were facing before,” she replied. “I stayed back to observe, and to learn - until I realized that I had still underestimated them. I’ve never encountered firepower like that.”

 

“It is strange, what you told me…” Control said, trailing off before continuing, “Xaeraz was loaned a one-use rust cannon over a year ago by an unknown benefactor, although he used it on the Makuta known as Luroka. I had not known any others were produced. And for one Matoran to hold that many weapons at once… it is both disturbing and illogical. Something is amiss - we have made a dire miscalculation, that is apparent.”

 

“It must be bad, if you’re stepping outside your office,” Agent 64 noted. “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you leave.”

 

“It is true that things are not going well,” Control acknowledged, “but… Voltex also makes me curious. I wish to know more about him… and even more than that, I believe he might be the key.”

 

“The key to victory?” Agent 64 asked. “That’s impossible. The Rebellion might fight harder if he dies.”

 

“Not the key to victory, no…” Control replied, shaking their head. “The key to White One. Never has White One left an enemy alive; never has he allowed to walk free without draining them of their sanity. Voltex is special; he is unique. There is something about him that puzzles White One… and if I can learn what that is, then we will once again be ahead in the game.”

 

---

 

Three hours later, both the medical and the technical repairs were completed. At the command of Control, Agent 64 reluctantly stood with the infamous Agent 13 - Tekulo -  at Voltex’s side, waiting for the Ba-Matoran to awaken. She gripped the sword of Burnmad in her hand, holding it out - if Voltex did not remember what she had done, there was a chance he may attack her. Hopefully the peace offering would prevent her from making things a little bloodier.

 

She was shaken out of her thoughts by a gasp, and she glanced down at Voltex the same instant that his eyes opened. Tekulo immediately laid a hand on the Ba-Matoran’s shoulder, holding him down.

 

“Voltex, my name is Tekulo, and I need you to let me explain a few things very quickly to you before I allow you to sit up,” Agent 13 said. “Are you listening?”

 

“I… yeah, I guess,” Voltex said quietly, looking confused and tired. “Do I know you? You’re… you look familiar….”

 

“We do not know each other - you were attacked by a foe known only as the ‘Shadow’,” Tekulo explained. “I am afraid that your friend, the Ta-Matoran known as Burnmad, perished in the battle. However, thanks to some last second intervention, you survived. You were brought back here, where you have been recovering for the past three days. We have repaired you, as well as enhanced you; your armor is as good as new, and physically, you should find yourself able to take on a member of the White Council in a fair fight now. No need to crash airships just to take off one’s head.”

 

“How… how am I alive?” Voltex whispered. “I… I was shot… I was dying….”

 

“As far as how you initially survived, that would be thanks to our dear friend Agent 64,” Tekulo said, gesturing to her.

 

“I recovered this for you,” she said stiffly, before Voltex’s glare could turn into words and thrusting the sword at him. “Here - take it. It’s your friend’s weapon. It’s all I could find.”

 

Voltex swallowed thickly, and she rolled her eyes as he turned his attention back to Tekulo, confused once again. “You said… initially?”

 

“Yes, well… as much as Agent 64 managed to both save you and recover you, one of our agents is more experienced with dodging death than most,” Tekulo explained, shrugging. “It was thanks to him that you ultimately survived. He oversaw your technical repairs and medical recovery.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Agent 43,” she cut in. “You know him already.”

 

Another Ko-Matoran stepped into the light from behind Tekulo, revealing themselves to the Ba-Matoran with a smirk and a small wave of the hand. “Hey there, Voltex - long time no see, am I right?”

 

“Kayn,” Voltex whispered, trying to sit up. “You’re still alive?!”

 

“I am,” Kayn replied, taking in a deep breath and grinning. “I felt as though life was a little too precious to just ‘let go’, you know? So I let Vinylstep think that he’d succeeded in burning me to ashes, and then I slowly made my way back here, waiting for a time when I could prove to you that I wasn’t such a bad guy after all!”

 

“You tried to kill Ehks,” Voltex whispered.

 

“Hey now, he survived,” Kayn said, frowning. “Well, for awhile, at any rate… and besides, it was the role I was playing. It was my job - to infiltrate Project Mayhem and get close to Xaeraz. So that’s what I did.”

 

“Voltex, I would truly love to inform you of our exact role,” Tekulo interrupted, “but I must state again that you have been unconscious for three days - three days without contacting the forces that you lead. They are worried and beginning to panic - I suggest that you leave immediately.”

 

“Yeah…” Voltex trailed off, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right.”

 

Tekulo helped Voltex off the bed, steadying the Ba-Matoran until he could stand on his own. With Voltex stable, Tekulo turned to Agent 64. “You know where you’re headed - take Voltex to the teleportation chambers with you. He’ll need to return to BZ-Koro as quickly as possible.”

 

“Of course. What of Control?”

 

“I’ll talk to Control. I wish you both the best of luck,” Tekulo said, nodding once before turning to Kayn. “Come, Kayn - let us make haste. Control wants me to fill you in quickly before you meet with them.”

 

Once they were gone, Voltex finally turned his gaze from the sword over to Agent 64, who glared at him with narrowed eyes. Sighing, the Ba-Matoran spoke. “So, where are you taking me again?”

 

“Just follow me,” she muttered, sighing.

 

---[JIMING]---

 

“Hey, hold tight,” he heard Shadowhawk say. “I gotta go talk to the captain.”

 

“Yeah, go ahead,” JiMing replied over the radio chatter coming from the pilots of the other two airships.

 

As much as he disliked the Shadow Matoran, JiMing had to admit that Shadowhawk had proven his usefulness time and time again; it was thanks to him that the Rebellion had survived this long. Four months prior, Shadowhawk had commanded the forces of BZ-Koro on his own, organizing a defense against the White Council and holding them off singlehandedly for three days before help arrived. Even JiMing was unsure of whether they would still be standing if it were not for Shadowhawk… and that meant that even he had made allowances and done his best to forgive the Shadow Matoran for his past grievances.

 

“I’m surprised,” said an orange and white Su-Matoran sitting on his other side. “You’re treating him with… respect.”

 

“I’m still getting used to it,” JiMing said. “I still dislike him.”

 

“I suppose that’s to be expected,” the Su-Matoran - named Pulse - responded, shrugging. “I just never thought that I would see the day.”

 

“Neither did I.”

 

Pulse was opening his mouth to speak again when the airship jolted as the back ramp door began to open, revealing the rolling waves of the Great Sea sixty feet below them. JiMing shared a glance with the Su-Matoran and frowned as one of the captains of the other airships radioed in.

 

“Hey, Bravo One, this is Bravo Two, your back ramp is opening.”

 

“Roger Bravo Two,” JiMing replied. “I’ll get on that.”

 

“No need to worry,” a new voice cut in - Shadowhawk. “I just spoke with our captain, JiMing. I only need it open for a few moments.”

 

“Roger that Bravo One,” Bravo Two responded. “We’ll swing behind you, keep an eye on it just in case.”

 

“That sounds delightful. Bravo One out.”

 

The radio cut off as Shadowhawk finished speaking, and JiMing stood to his feet, pacing halfway across the chamber before the Shadow Matoran reappeared, a small smile on his face. The Ta-Matoran waited for Shadowhawk to reach him before speaking.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Oh, I just need it open for a bit, you know,” Shadowhawk said casually. “That way the water will flood in faster.”

 

“Wait, what?” JiMing asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

“Oh… that’s right,” Shadowhawk said, laughing and pulling out a tablet, showing a video feed of BZ-Koro. “Check this out - video feed from a camera on the front of our airship. It’s a wonderful view, isn’t it? The perfect viewing angle.”

 

“The perfect viewing angle for what?”

 

He got his answer a split second later as a massive explosion ripped half of the island city in the distance apart; he stumbled but caught his balance as the shock wave reached the airship. Shadowhawk held him steady as he stared at the screen in shock, too stunned to speak as he watched the entire island begin to cave in upon itself, a multitude of explosions blowing the very foundations of BZ-Koro apart.

 

“It’s a real shame, isn’t it?” Shadowhawk said softly, smirking. “All those lives, gone… all those weapons, those tools, those plans… all of them sinking beneath the waves. It was hard work allowing those bombs to be planted while pretending that I was defending the city from the White Council, but let me tell you, this is satisfying.”

 

“You’re what?” Pulse asked, approaching them and staring at the screen before his eyes narrowed at the Shadow Matoran. “You’re….”

 

“Working with the White Council?” Shadowhawk finished for him. “Yes.”

 

“What… why?” JiMing asked.

 

“Isn’t that the question of the day,” Shadowhawk replied, grinning. “Let me tell you, JiMing, this has been a long time coming. And it’s thanks to you that it’s taken so long, you know?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“I’ve been employed by the White Council for years,” Shadowhawk said. “Since my days in Bionifight. They knew that they needed fighters, you know? The best of the best - and they suspected that Bionifight wasn’t entirely what it seemed. So they approached the greatest fighters of the league, hiring them. And when they came knocking… well, Voltex and I were at the top. It was a simple process, really - a month before the championship match, I was hired on. But they knew that Voltex would require a little more… convincing.”

 

“You did cheat,” JiMing whispered.

 

Shadowhawk nodded. “So the championship match comes, and the White Council plants a spy, who gives Voltex something to drink for his nerves as he steps onto the battlefield. Within a minute, he’s too dizzy to even stand upright. I emerge as the victor of the fastest match in Bionifight history, while Voltex is so ashamed that he joins the White Council simply to escape from the public eye. Reigning alone at the top, I take over Bionifight from the inside, drawing legions of fans to myself and to the White Council.”

 

The Shadow Matoran’s eyes narrowed as he tossed the tablet aside, glaring at JiMing. “But then you had to step in and ruin it all. You came in on a quest for vengeance, for redemption - and suddenly, you became the hero, and I became the villain. The fans wanted to see you win… and you gave it to them. You won again, and again, and again. Championship after championship went to you, while the plan that I and the White Council had worked so hard on was torn to shreds. So when the conference came around, you earned yourself a spot there - and I went there undercover, with the intent of guaranteeing your demise specifically. Unfortunately, Xaeraz and his allies suspected me, and I was targeted first; however, a quick dodge left me wounded instead of death, and a quick injection sent me into a death like state, allowing me to survive until the White Council or your allies could revive me. Unfortunately, when he shot you, Zakaro was not aiming to kill.”

 

“You’ve been a traitor this whole time,” Pulse whispered, his eyes wide in horror. “This whole year, you’ve-”

 

“Yes,” Shadowhawk interrupted, rolling his eyes. “And now I’d like to savor my victory. Goodbye, Pulse.”

 

In a flash - the blink of an eye - Shadowhawk drew a pistol and fired once; the shot hit Pulse in the chest and the Su-Matoran tumbled backwards, falling out of the airship and to the water below. JiMing barely had time to react before he was thrown to the side as several grappling lines shot out from their airship, each one of them connecting to Bravo Two behind them. He ducked and scrambled away as Shadowhawk began to fire, killing every other Matoran in the airship with them.

 

He pulled himself to his feet, turning towards the traitor, only to stumble forward as an explosion from the front of the airship knocked him towards Shadowhawk, who kicked him away with a grin as the airship began to tilt towards the water.

 

“Farewell, JiMing,” the Shadow Matoran said, sending a mock salute his way. “Have fun drowning. I expect we shall not see each other again.”

 

The Shadow Matoran hopped out of the airship; before JiMing could follow, the airship tilted sharply, and he was pulled towards the front of the airship as it hit the water. Clawing his way to the wall and clutching a metal hook, JiMing grunted as he began to pull himself up the side of the airship, trying to reach the exit before the airship went beneath the waves.

 

Water began to pour inside, splashing onto his face. The Ta-Matoran spluttered but continued to climb, ignoring the screaming of his muscles.

 

That was when Bravo Two, attached by the now retracting grappling lines, crashed down on top of him - and JiMing saw no more.

 

---[TAKA NUVIA]---

 

Taka Nuvia had never imagined that she would be in this position. She had originally been a simple artist, living a simple life; her apartment had been shabby and run-down, and she had drawn portraits of tourists foolish enough to believe that the Day Run and Bionifight counted as a vacation.

 

That had all changed when, one day, she unknowingly did a piece for White Two. Three days later, the White Turaga had shown up at her apartment and stared at it with distaste.

 

“No, this does not do at all,” he said dismissively, shaking his head. “Come with me - I shall find you more suitable quarters. I’m hiring you as the official artist of the White Council. Of course, you will be able to take on outside work - I would never dream of restricting your creative freedoms.”

 

Shaking her head, Taka Nuvia pushed the memory from her mind, re-focusing on the situation at hand. The Shadow Matoran known as ToaD - or rather, General ToaD - only smirked wider as she glared at him, fists clenched at her sides.

 

“You should really relax, you know,” ToaD said, chuckling as he crossed his arms. “Stress yourself out too much and you might crack your mask.”

 

“This is not a matter of stress!” Taka Nuvia snapped. “This is about you sacrificing three of our soldiers pointlessly!”

 

“It wasn’t pointless. I retrieved valuable information regarding the White Council,” the General replied, inspecting his armor and idly scratching at a spot of dirt.

 

“Three Matoran died!” Taka Nuvia hissed.

 

“Yeah, and three more will probably die tomorrow!” ToaD retaliated. “Seriously, what don’t you get about that?”

 

“It was needless sacrifice!”

 

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, is how I believe the saying goes,” ToaD told her. “Well, they were the few.”

 

“You’re heartless and cruel.”

 

“And yet Voltex continues to promote me, and pull me higher up the ranks with each battle that passes,” ToaD said, shrugging. “Why is that, I wonder? He claims to despise me just as I despise him, and yet here I am.”

 

“That’s not the point of this discussion,” Taka Nuvia replied.

 

“Both of you, enough!” a new voice snapped.

 

The Av-Matoran fell silent, sending one last glare in the direction of ToaD before turning to face Elittra, another of the leaders of the Rebellion. The female Vo-Matoran rolled her eyes before gesturing for them to follow here. “Come on - Voltex is back. He asked for the both of you personally.”

 

“You found him?!” Taka Nuvia responded, gasping. “How? He’s been missing for three days! Was Burnmad with him?”

 

“No sign of Burnmad,” Elittra answered, already walking away. “But no, we didn’t find him - he found us.”

 

---

 

Elittra left them alone with Fighty and Voltex; the Ba-Matoran remained silent as Fighty led them deeper into headquarters. They walked in total silence for several minutes before reaching a heavily armored door - Fighty put in a passcode and it swung open before them, revealing a room containing only a glass tube in the center and a control panel in front of it.

 

“Come in,” Fighty said. “I have much to explain.”

 

“So do I,” Voltex murmured, his voice sounding hoarse.

 

The vault door slammed shut behind them, and Fighty began to speak, pointing to the glass tube in the center.

 

“That,” he said, “is the final invention of Ehks. JiMing and I had it transported here soon after we seized control of BZ-Metru, and the two of us have been working on it ever since. Yesterday, I managed to both finish and activate it at last.”

 

“What is it, exactly?” Taka Nuvia asked.

 

“It’s a teleportation device,” Fighty replied. “It’s a very unique one, however - we have been unable to pinpoint its destination, and it is only designed to transport the user to the location; it does not include a way back. Which means that it’s a permanent one-way trip for whoever goes.”

 

“I’ll go,” Voltex said.

 

“Wait, I wasn’t suggesting-” Fighty began, but the Ba-Matoran cut him off.

 

“No… I need to go,” Voltex said, shaking his head sadly, glancing to each of them in turn. “I… I don’t know if I can do this. Lead a war anymore. It’s just… it’s too much. Burnmad’s dead.”

 

“But you’ve watched some of your closest friends die,” ToaD said callously, shrugging. “Why now?”

 

“It’s… I can’t explain it, exactly,” Voltex said, facing the Shadow Matoran. “But… I’m naming you as his replacement, ToaD. You still have the fight that I’ve lost… the will that I, and everyone else, does not have. You’re willing to make the sacrifices that have to be made. We need a leader like you.”

 

“I… um… alright then, I suppose,” ToaD said, a look of utter confusion on his face.

 

“As for you, Taka Nuvia…” Voltex continued, turning to her. “You’re replacing me.”

 

No way.

 

“Absolutely not,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to lead an entire army?”

 

“You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful and empathetic Matoran I know,” Voltex answered. “Your skills as a medic have kept half of our army alive, and your coolheaded nature has kept several of our plans operating when they would have otherwise dissolved into a panic. You’ll do fine.”

 

“But… what about you?” she asked.

 

Voltex turned away and stepped up to the glass tube, which hissed as it slid open; the Ba-Matoran stepped inside and then turned to face her again. “I’m going to find out where this thing goes,” he said.

 

“And if you don’t come back?”

 

“If I don’t come back, then assume that I’m dead,” Voltex ordered. “Do not wait for me - finish this war as fast as possible. If there’s any chance that I can return… I’ll do my best. Fighty, activate the machine.”

 

“Are you sure?” Fighty asked.

 

“Do it now.”

 

The silver armored Matoran sighed and set to work on the control panel, flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly. The machine began to hum, the glass tube lighting up as the teleportation pad within began to glow a brilliant shade of cobalt. Taka Nuvia glanced at Voltex and met the Ba-Matoran’s eyes one last time - they were full of sadness and despair… and somewhere, deep inside, she recognized anger.

 

In a flash of light, Voltex vanished.

 

“Well, that’s that,” ToaD said, grinning maliciously. “You heard him - I’m second in command now.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Taka Nuvia muttered.

 

“So, Taka,” ToaD continued, smirking at her, “what are your orders?”

 

She shot him a glare, which only made ToaD smirk even wider again. “Now we let everyone know what’s happened - that Burnmad is dead, and that Voltex is gone.”

To Be Continued.

 

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---[JIMING]---

 

He did not expect to wake  up - so when he awoke coughing up water, he did not battle the surge of relief and surprise that flooded through him. Once he was certain that his lungs were clear, he slowly took a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to re-orient himself.

 

“So you’re alive after all,” a voice said from behind him. “Good to see!”

 

JiMing slowly pushed himself to his feet, turning to face the speaker - a Po-Matoran wearing what looked like a customized Kakama, Mask of Speed. The Ta-Matoran glanced around, eyes narrowing as he realized that he was in an airship.

 

“Where am I?” he asked.

 

“Bravo Three,” the Po-Matoran said. “We… pulled you out of the wreckage, sir. You were the only survivor. Everyone else from the other two airships is dead.”

 

“What about BZ-Koro?”

 

“We pulled about ten survivors,” the Po-Matoran answered quietly. “No other signs of life. We’re just getting into BZ-Metru now, to let them know what happened.”

 

The Ta-Matoran sighed, closing his eyes and ducking his head briefly before opening them again. “What is your name?”

 

“My name?” the Po-Matoran asked. “It’s Pohatu.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense,” JiMing replied, confused. “Pohatu… he’s a Toa. A legendary one.”

 

“I named myself in his honor. He saved my life long ago,” the Po-Matoran told him.

 

“Alright,” JiMing said slowly. “Show me who you saved, then. Who is their leader?”

 

“We don’t have a leader,” a Ga-Matoran responded, standing and walking over to join them. “All of our commanding officers are… well, hopefully dead, by now, if there was any mercy in it for them. My name’s Ghidora, though - Blaze and I have sort of taken charge, in a way?”

 

“Who’s Blaze?”

 

“She’s-” Ghidora paused, glancing back at a huddled group of Matoran, who were presumably the survivors from BZ-Koro. “Hey! Blaze! Get over here, it’s JiMing! He wants to talk to you!”

 

A dark blue and gold armored Matoran of Psionics glanced their way, rolling her eyes. JiMing shivered, pushing away the memories of the last Ce-Matoran that he had seen. Scanty had remained steadfastly silent to the end as they had strung him up by his neck… and they had immediately discovered their mistake. The Ce-Matoran, unlike JiMing, had not escaped the ill-fated conference with his life.

 

He shook his head to clear it as the female Ce-Matoran approached, stopping beside Ghidora and glancing over to him.

 

“Hey,” she said. “The name’s Shadow Ignited - and yes, I do realize that it’s a bit of a strange name. Everyone tends to call me ‘Blaze’ these days, or if they’re being really formal, ‘Silver Blaze’. And before you ask, they call me that because I disguised myself as a Matoran of Magnetism once to infiltrate a White Council base and burn it to the ground. I succeeded, and the name has stuck ever since.”

 

“I… alright then,” JiMing managed. “How long until we land?”

 

Before he had even finished speaking, the airship jolted; Pohatu grinned, saying “right now.”

 

JiMing turned as the airship opened, immediately exiting - he heard Ghidora mutter something unintelligible under his breath as the Ga-Matoran and the others hurried after him.

 

“Hold on a second,” Pohatu called, grabbing JiMing’s shoulder and halting him in his tracks. “You haven’t told us how you crashed - what happened?”

 

The Ta-Matoran forced down the wave of rage that threatened to overtake him, nearly snarling when he replied, “Shadowhawk.”

 

“What did he do?” Shadow Ignited - ‘Blaze’, JiMing reminded himself - asked.

 

“He was working for the White Council this entire time,” JiMing replied angrily, narrowing his eyes. “He shot Pulse and then crashed our airship and Bravo Two… tried to leave me for dead. And now that you know what happened, you can report in while I go hunt him down.”

 

“Whoa now, hold on,” Pohatu responded, holding his hands up. “I don’t want to be put in charge of anything - I follow, not lead. But you know how it is in this army - you survive one battle where your commanding officer dies and suddenly you’re the replacement. There’s no way that’s happening to me. I’m coming with you.”

 

“I don’t need-” JiMing began.

 

“Plus,” Pohatu continued, cutting across him, “you’re going to need help. You can’t infiltrate the White Council by yourself… but with my help, you might. I helped to design the original Vahki models, and before the war, I worked on some of the primary schematics for the Dread series. If we can find a hive, I might be able to reprogram them to work for us.”

 

Sighing, the Ta-Matoran nodded. “Very well then. You can come.”

 

“So am I,” Ghidora said, glancing at him. “I can’t promise any really standout skills like mister ‘named after a legendary hero’ here, but at the very least, I can serve as cannon fodder for you. Besides, I’m kinda feeling the same - I don’t want to suddenly end up in charge of an army. There’s no way I could do that.”

 

JiMing opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by another voice entirely as the De-Matoran known as Vinylstep arrived.

 

“What’s going on here?” the Matoran of Sonics asked, inspecting them all and glancing to the airship. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well, I was just leaving,” JiMing said, glancing to Shadow Ignited. “Are you coming with me as well, or can I leave you here to fill him in?”

 

“I’ll fill him in,” the Ce-Matoran replied, shrugging.

 

“Where are you going?” Vinylstep asked.

 

“Hunting,” JiMing answered. “I’m bringing Pohatu and Ghidora here with me. Blaze here can fill you in on why we have one airship of fifty Matoran instead of three airships with entire battalions.”

 

If the Matoran of Sonics had any objections, he did not voice them, instead remaining silent - JiMing took that as his cue to leave.

 

It was high time that Shadowhawk pay for his crimes.

 

---[AGENT 64]---

 

From her position atop the Moto Hub, Agent 64 peered through the scope of her sniper rifle down across the street, where a Le-Matoran and a Ta-Matoran stood in the shadows of an abandoned trade post. Slowly, she withdrew a small metal sphere from her cloak and flicked her wrist, tossing the sphere towards them before returning to the scope; the sphere landed a few feet away from the two Matoran unnoticed and folded open. Within a second, the device had activated, allowing her to listen in on the conversation being had.

 

“-do not believe that would be the wisest course of action, sir,” the Ta-Matoran was saying. “You are still too weak.”

 

“Weak or not, a move must be made,” the Le-Matoran replied. “I grow weary of sitting and doing nothing. It has been nearly a year, and every attempt has failed. I think it is time we accept that it will not succeed - but that means we must move onto our next plan. Is that understood, Chambliss? Or shall I find myself a new servant?”

 

“Of course not, Lord Kumadu,” the newly identified Chambliss said. “I understand - may I suggest the southernmost outpost connecting Le-Metru with Ta-Metru? The one that also stands guard over BZ-Metru? I believe that we might have the most success there.”

 

“That sounds like a wise idea,” the Le-Matoran responded. “You must forgive my… brashness, Chambliss. You have been a loyal and faithful servant this past year. It is thanks to you that I have survived.”

 

Both Matoran began to walk away; Agent 64 cringed as the Ta-Matoran inadvertently stepped on top of the listening device, crushing it and causing a burst of static on her end. The Ko-Matoran scowled as she shut her side of the feed off before freezing at the metallic crunch of something landing on the roof behind her. A shadow slowly loomed over her as the sounds of mechanical limbs shifting drifted into her ears. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned to face the Vahki Dread that was approaching.

 

“I am an ally of the White Council,” she said, standing up straight and speaking as clearly as possible. “Designation ‘Agent 64’, or ‘Fishers’. Please confirm.”

 

://IDENTIFICATION NOT RECOGNIZED.

://ENEMY DETECTED. SURRENDER OR DIE.

 

There aren’t supposed to be any rogue units, she thought to herself, unknowingly stepping back towards the edge of the rooftop as the Dread unit advanced.

 

“I repeat, I am an ally of the White Council,” she said. “Designation ‘Agent 64’ or ‘Fishers’. Please confirm!”

 

://IDENTIFICATION NOT RECOGNIZED.

://ENEMY OF WHITE COUNCIL TO BE TERMINATED.

 

She dove to the side just in time to avoid the plasma blast, quickly crouching and firing a round into one of the eyes of the Dread unit. The eye immediately went out and the Dread unit froze, recalibrating - as it did so, Agent 64 lunged forward, pulling out her ice blaster and freezing its right leg before dropping the blaster and pulling out her ice katana, swinging it. The Dread unit’s arm swung at her and shattered the blade, smacking her several feet away. Upon landed she somersaulted back to her feet, jumping away from another plasma blast. The Dread unit easily shattered the ice coating its leg, advancing towards her and firing again - this time, her dodge carried her off of the roof. She quickly used her blaster to create a slide down to the ground, tumbling across the road upon landing without serious injuries. The Dread jumped down, shaking the ground upon landing - and then it suddenly froze, its remaining eye going dark.

 

“Fancy meeting you here, Agent 64,” a familiar voice said, chuckling. “To think that you might have died if it weren’t for my timely intervention! How convenient, eh? It turns out that Tavahka here was not lying - we do indeed have some rogue Dread units wandering about. How curious.”

 

She slowly stood to her feet, dusting herself off, and glanced to the familiar form of White Seven, hiding her unease as she replied, “yes. Thank you, sir.”

 

“Oh, it was no problem at all,” White Seven said easily, ambling towards her and beckoning behind him. “Come, Tavahka! Do not hide in the shadows! It is merely Agent 64 - well, I say merely - she is, of course, one of our most dangerous operatives… but not dangerous to us.”

 

A Matoran with slightly rusted burn orange armor stepped out of the shadows, clearly nervous - a quick inspecting convinced Agent 64 that the rust was from age, and not corruption. She narrowed her eyes at the newcomer. “What’s your name?”

 

“It’s… Tavahka,” the Matoran said shakily. “Nice to meet you?”

 

“I recognize you,” she said. “But we haven’t met before… something’s up here.”

 

“Something is up indeed,” White Seven interrupted, stepping forward to inspect the Dread unit. “For future reference, the neck is the weak spot - specifically the right side. A quick burst of any elemental power will cause it to power down. It’s virtually unstoppable otherwise.”

 

“Duly noted, sir,” Agent 64 replied, turning to face the White Turaga. The mystery of White Seven’s strange companion could wait.

 

“Come, walk with us,” White Seven said. “We shall-”

 

A cry cut through the air, and the White Turaga fell silent, gazing curiously in the direction of the noise before smiling.

 

“Shall we investigate?” Tavahka asked, sending a glance towards Agent 64.

 

“Absolutely!” White Seven exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Come! Follow me!”

 

---

 

They rounded the corner just in time to see a pitch black Onu-Matoran getting speared through the chest by a Vahki Dread; the unit shook the dead Matoran off its weapon before joining two other units advancing upon a Matoran of Plantlife standing against a wall. White Seven observed the scene curiously before nodding.

 

“Well, you’ve both been informed on how to take them down,” he said brightly. “Let’s save this poor fellow and see what he’s up to!”

 

Agent 64 shared a glance with Tavahka, nodding to the burnt orange Matoran before opening fire on the Dread units, coating all three of them with patches of ice. It was enough to momentarily distract the machines from their prey as the three ran forward, dodging around the attacks. White Seven threw his staff like a spear and sent one of the units staggering back, grabbing the staff again and firing a small beam of light that caught the Dread in the neck. Agent 64 fired a blast at the unit in the middle, freezing it in place as the ice caught its weak point, while Tavahka ducked in close and drove a knife into the neck of the third unit. With the threat taken care of, White Seven approached the Bo-Matoran, who remained where they were.

 

“Greetings, lad!” White Seven said, grinning. “We just saved you! My name is White Seven, and these two helpful Matoran are Agent 64 and Tavahka! What would be your name?”

 

“Uh… Letagi,” the Bo-Matoran said nervously, glancing to Tavahka.

 

“Ah, yes! You’re a part of that Rebellion!” White Seven cried out. “This is brilliant! Yes! You shall make the perfect addition to our little crew!”

 

“Please don’t- wait, what?” Letagi asked, a look of confusion on his face.

 

“Turaga White Seven, mystery Matoran Tavahka, super secret Agent 64, and Rebellion member Letagi - a motley crew united under a single banner!” White Seven exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “It is perfect! Yes! Now come - we must continue onward!”

 

The White Turaga immediately began to walk away - after a moment of dumbfounded hesitation, Tavahka followed. Agent 64 frowned, but spared a second to turn and face Letagi.

 

“Come with us,” she said, “or I’ll be forced to kill you… if White Seven doesn't first. I’m not sure why he’s sparing you, but whatever he has in mind… there’s no way you’re escaping it.”

 

Letagi gulped before nodding, hurrying after her as she began to follow their leader.

 

---[TAKA NUVIA]---

 

“ToaD, I thought I told you not to assemble a war council,” Taka Nuvia hissed as Matoran began to trickle into the meeting room.

 

“You did,” ToaD said, shrugging. “But I like to disobey orders. You’re too soft - this war must end now. Voltex put me here to make the hard decisions because I honestly don’t care who lives and who doesn’t.”

 

“And he put me in charge of you because you make cold, heartless decisions on a whim!” Taka Nuvia whispered furiously.

 

“Is there an issue, Taka Nuvia?” ToaD asked loudly, drawing the attentions of the others in the room, who all glanced over curiously.

 

“...no,” she said, knowing that she could not let them believe that ToaD could so easily undermine her authority.

 

“Awesome!” ToaD responded, grinning and clapping his hands together. “Now, do we have everyone?”

 

“I believe so,” Fighty said from where he was seated, glancing around the table.

 

“No, you don’t,” a familiar - terrible, but familiar - voice rasped from the entrance, as a Fe-Matoran with armor that looked as though it had been cobbled together from a junkyard entered the room, glowering at them all. “Well, you do now.”

 

“Xaeraz,” Taka Nuvia breathed, before speaking up: “How are you alive?”

 

“That’s none of your business,” Xaeraz growled, sitting down at the table and glaring at her. “Are we starting this meeting or not?”

 

“I… y-yes, of course,” she stammered.

 

As she sat down, she glanced around the room quickly - aside from herself, ToaD, Fighty and Xaeraz, several others had shown up; chiefly Aiwendil, JMJ, and the famous Rider of Kikinalo, who had personally saved both her and Voltex from an ambush two months prior. ToaD had barely sat down before he started to speak.

 

“Voltex and Burnmad are dead, and they’ve left Taka Nuvia and I in charge,” the Shadow Matoran said. “Now, I am of the belief that this war must end - and that it must end now. We are beginning to run low on resources, and we know that the White Council has forces from multiple islands down south en route that should arrive by the end of the month. We cannot afford to wait - by the time their reinforcement arrive, we will have lost the firepower necessary to fight them. If a second resistance fails, the White Council will appear to be unstoppable. This is our final chance.”

 

Taka Nuvia opened her mouth to speak, but found herself unable to come up with anything to refute the points that ToaD had made. She watched as the other Matoran thought it over; Fighty looked worried, but the rest were slowly nodding as they thought it over. ToaD smirked at her before glancing with a calm gaze at the others again. The Shadow Matoran started to speak again, but was interrupted as the door slammed open, revealing Vinylstep - a De-Matoran that had, over the past year, proven to be both an invaluable resource and a good friend to Voltex, earning him a high ranking within the Resistance.

 

“Vinylstep,” she said, standing to her feet. “What is it?”

 

“BZ-Koro is gone,” the De-Matoran said somberly. “Shadowhawk has betrayed us for the White Council. BZ-Koro has sunk beneath the waves.”

 

“BZ-Koro is gone?!” Aiwendil cried.

 

“From what the survivors say, there were thousands upon thousands of explosives placed throughout the island,” Vinylstep said. “The White Council destroyed the entire island, killed almost everyone there.”

 

“See?!” ToaD yelled, shooting to his feet and pounding his fist upon the table, making it shake. “This is what I’m talking about! We must move now! We must take the fight to them! How long do we have before BZ-Metru is sinking beneath the waves as well? How long until they topple Ta-Metru?”

 

“Very well,” the Rider of Kikinalo said quietly, nodding in approval. “Tell us your plan, and we shall see it fulfilled.”

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

The Ba-Matoran stumbled forward as he reappeared, clutching at his stomach with one hand while reaching out with the other to steady himself. He remained in that position for several seconds until his stomach stopped churning before wearily rubbing his eyes and glancing around the room, frowning when he could find no visible exit.

 

Where am I? he wondered.

 

He had barely finished the thought before a hidden panel slid open, revealing three Matoran - Voltex narrowed his eyes, dropping into a fighting stance. The leader of the three Matoran - a Matoran of Gravity like himself - laughed, pulling out a sword.

 

“Come now, Voltex, you can’t honestly expect to beat all three of us with your bare hands,” Quisoves said, smiling at him.

 

“I’ll take you all on if I have to,” Voltex replied.

 

The Triplets entered the room, although Voltex noted that the doorway remained open behind them. If he could somehow get around them, perhaps….

 

“Don’t even try to escape,” Quisoves told him, as Cyrix and Underscore both pulled out handguns. “If they have to, my partners shall shoot you down like any common foe.”

 

As the leader of the Triplets advanced, Voltex mentally prepared himself for the inevitable - but a flash of brown interrupted them, as a Po-Matoran that looked eerily familiar threw themselves at Quisoves from behind with a battle cry. Cyrix and Underscore took aim with their guns but were both immediately tackled to the floor by two other Matoran - one electric blue, the other pure white with gold accents. The Po-Matoran punched Quisoves in the back of the head, yelling for him to run; Voltex took the hint, sprinting towards the exit. The white and gold Matoran was thrown off by Cyrix and collided into him; Voltex pushed the other Matoran away and lunged at Cyrix, smacking the gun away and kicking the Vo-Matoran in the knee.

 

“Voltex, I said RUN!” the Po-Matoran yelled. “We don’t need to stay here and fight!”

 

With a kick, the Po-Matoran knocked Quisoves into Underscore as the electric blue Matoran dove into the hallway; Voltex frowned, but merely punched Cyrix in the face and sent him sprawling before running after them. As he exited the room, Quisoves began to stand, but the white and gold Matoran produced a sphere from his waist and threw it at the floor; the Po-Matoran threw his hand over Voltex’s mouth as the sphere exploded, spewing smoke everywhere.

 

“Come on!” the Po-Matoran muttered, pulling him away. “We need to get out of here!”

 

The four of them ran, Voltex yanking himself free of the Po-Matoran’s grip along the way. They ran for close to fifteen minutes, rounding corner after corner in a labyrinthine pattern, before the Po-Matoran finally held up his hand for them to stop. They all leaned against the walls, chests heaving as they gasped. When he had finally caught his breath, Voltex spoke, directing his words at the Po-Matoran.

 

“Are you… TBK?” he asked.

 

Grinning, the Po-Matoran nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “Good to see that you remember me - I wasn’t sure. You looked kind of freaked out back there.”

 

“You’ve been dead for a year,” Voltex deadpanned. “Usually when you see somebody back from the dead, you’ve gone crazy.”

 

“That’s actually not true,” the electric blue Matoran replied.

 

“So you are RG, then?” Voltex asked. “The Su-Matoran that is inexplicably an electric blue, instead of the standard orange and white?”

 

“Customization is a thing,” RG muttered. “But yeah, it’s me.”

 

“And what about you?” Voltex continued, turning to the white and gold Matoran. “Are you… actually, I don’t think I know you.”

 

“Nobody knows him,” TBK said from behind him. “He died a long time ago - been up here for so long that he’s forgotten his own name. We call him Smoke Monster, because… well, you saw what he did back there. He’s a nightmare with those things. I’m glad he has them and I’m even more glad that he’s on our team.”

 

“Does he talk?” Voltex asked.

 

“Sometimes,” the white and gold Matoran replied, before falling silent again.

 

“All he remembers is that he’s an Av-Matoran, and that he was killed by a rampaging Rahi,” TBK explained. “Not exactly the most noble of deaths, but hey, he’s managed to survive up here for at least forty thousand years, which is better than anyone else seems to be doing.”

 

“Where is here?” Voltex asked, turning back to the Po-Matoran. “I mean, it’s good to see you again - and I’m glad that you saved me - but….”

 

“Don’t you know?” TBK asked, frowning. “I mean, nobody usually knows until they die down below, and then it just sort of… comes to you. Like, when you arrive. I think it’s part of the reload system.”

 

“I was teleported here by an invention designed by Ehks,” Voltex said.

 

“Don’t say that name!” RG snapped, before falling silent at a glare from TBK.

 

Voltex glanced between the two Matoran, narrowing his eyes. “What’s wrong with Ehks?”

 

“He’s… well, honestly, I have no idea,” TBK replied with a shrug, his gaze darkening. “But I’d advise that you not mention him. We thought maybe there might be some way that we could get him back on our side, take the place over with him, but… after what he did to Automaton, nobody’s gonna be making that mistake again.”

 

A shiver swept over Voltex as foreboding washed over him. “What… happened to Automaton?”

 

“You don’t want to know,” RG said darkly, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, glaring sullenly down the hallway.

 

“We can discuss that later,” TBK said firmly. “We’ll need to get moving again in a few minutes, head back to HQ - but you said you teleported up here? You didn’t die?”

 

“No, I didn’t,” Voltex said. “Hey - have you seen Burnmad? He was killed recently.”

 

“No, but we’ve been away for awhile - it’s pure luck that we were tracking the Triplets when you arrived, in all honesty,” TBK responded. “He might be back as HQ. As for where we are, Voltex - we’re all within a place called the Red Star.”

 

“The Red Star?”

 

“Yeah,” TBK said. “It’s like a reboot system for when you die - you die down there, you arrive up here. And then, if you’re lucky, the White Council executes you immediately and wipes you from existence.”

 

“And if you’re not lucky?” Voltex asked, dreading the answer.

 

“Then you’re stuck up here, imprisoned for eternity,” the Po-Matoran said. “Always hiding, always running - because if they find you, they will rip you apart. Slowly, piece by piece - so slow that you’ll be awake for every agonizing second.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then nothing,” TBK said darkly. “They know how to keep you alive. If they find you, within a week you’ll be so disfigured that nobody will recognize you. And they’ll never let you slide off the edge - never let you lose your grip on life. But everything else? Oh, they’ll take all that.”

 

“Welcome to the Red Star,” RG muttered.

To Be Continued.

 

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---[EHKS/WHITE THIRTEEN]---

 

He stood in the control room of the Red Star, examining his silver and white armor as the pure white colored White Ten droned on about system diagnostics and other nonsense that he was, for lack of a better term, uninterested in. His time in the Red Star was beginning to bore him; quashing the same rebellions day in and day out had grown tiresome compared to the conflict that he had become accustomed to down below.

 

Sometimes, he idly wondered what might have been if he had joined those who fought them in an attempt to escape the Red Star. He knew that he had been planning to - he remembered that very clearly. His original intentions behind rejoining the White Council had been to go undercover and take the group down from the inside out - he understood that. Somewhere along the line, however, that had… changed.

 

His thoughts were swept aside as the door opened and the Triplets stalked into the room, Quisoves at the head. White Ten mercifully fell into an expectant silence as the three Matoran kneeled before them.

 

“Stand,” White Ten ordered.

 

“What news do you bring?” Ehks - no, he was White Thirteen - asked, stepping forward.

 

“We were in the middle of a patrol when our sensors indicated an arrival,” Quisoves answered, standing up straight. “It was… Voltex. He seemed confused, but we were about to execute him regardless; however, we were interrupted by a small group of the rebel Matoran. TBK was leading them.”

 

“He still hasn’t learned,” White Ten said, sneering. “What of Voltex, then?”

 

“He escaped with them,” Quisoves said quietly.

 

“Say that again,” White Thirteen ordered, eyes narrowing.

 

The leader of the Triplets had the sense not to question him. “I… they escaped with him, sir. They got away.”

 

“I seem to recall that White One had you sent up here because you were the best we had,” White Thirteen said. “In the event that someone like Voltex managed to make it up here. And you’re telling me that you have already failed in that one… single thing.”

 

“We-” Underscore started, but White Thirteen cut him off.

 

“No, you will say nothing,” he ordered. “This is unacceptable - you three shall come with me. We must hunt Voltex down before he can organize the rebels against us. White Ten, you shall find the Kestora and have them brought here. If the rebels attack us, they will strike here first.”

 

“Perhaps I should hunt, and you should find the Kestora,” White Ten suggested.

 

“Do you mean to imply that I would be unable to kill them?” White Thirteen asked, glaring at the other member of the White Council. “I would have you remember, Ten, that I tortured Automaton until nothing of his sanity remained before slicing his throat just as the rebels arrived to save him. I will not have mercy - and my appearance shall throw Voltex into confusion, rather than fury, as your appearance would.”

 

White Ten glared back, but nodded nonetheless. “Very well.”

 

“I am glad that we understand each other,” White Thirteen said dryly, gesturing for the Triplets to follow him as he left the room. “Come - we’re going hunting.”

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

Undercover as Tavahka, Portalfig had nearly had a panic attack at the sight of Agent 64, sure that she would recognize him - and she did. Luckily, she had not been able to place a name to the face; unfortunately, White Seven had insisted that she travel with them. While the information regarding the Dread units was useful, Portalfig almost wished that Letagi had not been sucked into their little ‘group’ - the Matoran of Plantlife had obviously recognized him immediately, and had probably joined them believing that Portalfig would save him if necessary.

 

Portalfig was not so certain that he could do that. If it came down to whether or not Letagi would die, the Onu-Matoran knew that he would have to try and keep his undercover identity intact, and it might be necessary to keep it and allow Letagi to be killed.

 

For now, however, he had other problems - White Seven had taken them to the Coliseum. The deeper sections of the Coliseum - where only the White Council were supposed to go. White Seven was recklessly breaking rules set in stone by White One, and Portalfig doubted that the White Turaga’s hammer would suffice as a weapon to defend all four of them.

 

“I thought this area was out of bounds,” Agent 64 said curtly, breaking the silence to ask the question that had been plaguing Portalfig’s mind.

 

“That it is,” White Seven acknowledged. “However, I believe some of our rules to be… ah, outdated. Despite what our enemies might believe, we are rather low on resources at the moment… and while it is true that we have reinforcements on the way, it is also true that if it were to come down to a final battle, the White Council ourselves would have to lead the charge.”

 

“And you don’t care that you have a member of the Rebellion here listening to every word we say?” Agent 64 asked, glancing over to Letagi, whose gaze flickered uneasily to White Seven.

 

White Seven shrugged. “I care not. In fact, I-”

 

“White Seven!” a new voice snapped, from behind the group.

 

Portalfig spun around, freezing at the sight of White Twelve stalking towards them. He flinched as a hand fell upon his shoulder, but relaxed at the look White Seven sent him as the White Turaga patted his shoulder before stepping forward with agrin.

 

“White Twelve! What a pleasure to see you,” White Seven said loudly. “How are you?”

 

“How am I? I am furious,” White Twelve snarled, halting in front of White Seven with a hand upon the pommel of his sword. “I have half a mind to kill you now for your insolence - what are these three doing in the restricted areas? You know that only we are allowed in here!”

 

“True, but I am with them - I shall guarantee that none of them see anything that would, ah… require them to be removed,” White Seven casually replied, shrugging. “Why don’t you run along, Twelve? Allow me to handle this.”

 

“You are a fool,” White Twelve snapped. “I shall kill you where you stand!”

 

“Is that so?” White Seven asked, sounding regretful. “Very well then - I do very much regret the next course of action I must take. Please understand that it is only self-defense.”

 

Before White Twelve had time to reply - or to react - White Seven swung his hammer with blinding speed, smashing it into the side of White Twelve’s head and knocking the other White Turaga into the wall. White Twelve cried out as he hit the floor; and then he fell silent as White Seven swiftly swung his hammer down once more, this time cracking White Twelve’s Kanohi mask upon impact before turning to Portalfig with a grin.

 

“This is your chance to prove yourself, Tavahka,” White Seven said, a gleam in his eyes. “Execute White Twelve.”

 

The Onu-Matoran managed to catch the dagger tossed towards him. He hesitated for only a second before deciding that he did not want to know what would happen if he refused. Stepping forward, he crouched beside White Twelve as the White Turaga began to weakly stir. White Seven stood behind him, pointing at the other White Turaga’s neck.

 

“Stab him there,” White Seven whispered.

 

Portalfig drove the dagger down, forcing himself to watch as the blade sank into White Twelve’s neck and blood began to bubble out of the wound. He yanked the knife out and stabbed it down again before pulling it out once more, standing to his feet. The Onu-Matoran stared at White Twelve as he convulsed twice before becoming still, blood pooling under his head.

 

“Very good,” White Seven said from behind him, sounding satisfied. “Let us continue on - there is much to see, and much to discuss.”

 

---[sHADOW IGNITED]---

 

She was standing guard at a Rebellion outpost with Aiwendil, located upon the small patch of land connecting Ta-Metru, Le-Metru, and BZ-Metru when she spotted the Ta-Matoran headed towards them. She elbowed the Matoran of Sonics standing next to her and he shot to his feet, glancing around wildly.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked frantically.

 

“Calm down - just a Ta-Matoran,” she said. “He’s alone. Just thought you might like to look like you’re doing something, since we’re at war.”

 

“Yeah… yeah, that makes sense.”

 

As the Ta-Matoran drew near, she leaned over the edge, calling “stay where you are! We’ll come to you.”

 

Grabbing her disk launcher, she sprinted down the stairs with Aiwendil on her heels, slowing down as she neared the newcomer before coming to a stop in front of him. The Ta-Matoran appeared unimpressed - or perhaps aloof - with dull gray eyes.

 

“State your name and business,” she ordered.

 

“There are things called ‘manners’, Blaze,” Aiwendil whispered.

 

“Yeah?” she asked. “There’s also this thing called ‘security’, and I like it.”

 

The Ta-Matoran glanced between them briefly before replying. “My name is Chambliss. As to my service… I presume that you are soldiers of the Rebellion, since I have not been eviscerated upon arrival. That is good - my master wishes to speak with one of you.”

 

“Why one of us?” Aiwendil asked.

 

“Not one of you in particular, necessarily,” the newly named Chambliss replied. “He merely wishes to speak to a soldier of the Rebellion. Either one of you shall suffice.”

 

She turned to Aiwendil, signalling for him to return to his post. “I’ll go. If I’m not back within a day… well... assume that I’m dead and kill this sucker the next time you see him.”

 

“Got it,” Aiwendil responded, nodding before returning to the outpost.

 

Shadow Ignited turned to the Ta-Matoran known as Chambliss and crossed her arms. “Lead the way then.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Chambliss led her back through a maze of streets and back alleys, avoiding all signs of life along the way - not that much ordinary life was still going on in Metru-Nui these days. They finally stopped outside of a decrepit, abandoned shop in Le-Metru. The Ta-Matoran held a finger up to his mouth, warning her to be quiet, as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. She followed behind him after a moment’s hesitation, aiming her disk launcher into the room as a new voice spoke.

 

“Ah, Chambliss… you return… and with a Matoran of Psionics, no less! Very impressive indeed. Is she here to help us?”

 

“I have not yet fully explained the situation to her, sir,” Chambliss replied, bowing. “I thought it prudent to bring her here just in case she, ah, tried to kill me.”

 

“Understandable,” the dark figure said, their eyes gleaming as they stepped into the light. “Greetings.”

 

Shadow Ignited’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the Matoran’s mask. “I know you.”

 

“You do?” the Le-Matoran asked, curiosity lighting up on their futures.

 

“I don’t know you, whoever you are…” she amended, “but I did know Kumadu. He was always the one I’d rent a cart from when visiting Le-Metru. His eyes were blue; your eyes are red.”

 

The Le-Matoran chuckled; a dark sound that sounded sinister, with growling undertones. “You would not understand.”

 

“Tell me anyway,” she said, taking aim with her disk launcher. “I’ve got several fragmentation disks with your name on them if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

 

“Very well,” the Le-Matoran said, dipping his head. “Once, I was a mighty titan, one of the most feared members of the Brotherhood. I helped to both organize and facilitate the conference, and believed that I would escape unharmed - however, I had not accounted for Xaeraz getting ahold of the perfect weapon to destroy a Makuta. When he incinerated my essence, for a moment, I believed myself to be dead; it was all I could do to regroup a few wisps of my essence and enter the first Matoran I saw. But I… had no idea what I had done….”

 

“You’re a Makuta?!” she breathed, stepping back. “You’re….”

 

“I was a Makuta, yes,” the Le-Matoran said. “I am a Makuta no longer. When I enter Kumadu… there was so little of my essence left that his body began to naturally repurpose me - which would have resulted in my demise. I fought against it and, in doing so, unintentionally replaced his mind and spirit with my own. I am, for all intents and purposes, now a Matoran of Air. I still contain control over some shadow powers, although I do not know the limits.”

 

“What’s your name?” she asked quietly.

 

“My name is Luroka.”

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

“Are you ready?” TBK asked, pausing beside a blank wall.

 

Voltex took a deep, shuddering breath, nodding. “Yeah.”

 

The Po-Matoran turned and tapped a pattern rapidly; once he was finished, a secret panel slid open, revealing a large room on the other side. Voltex glanced behind him to Smoke Monster and RG; the latter nodded encouragingly and the Ba-Matoran slowly took another deep breath before standing inside.

 

Once he did, everyone inside froze.

 

He could see several familiar faces in the crowd, and was unable to stop the grin from bursting into view as he drank in the sight of so many friends thought dead. Blade, Unit, Zakaro, Kante, Valendale, Voxumo and Chro were all amongst the crowd. Voltex glanced around, trying to spot any other familiar faces in the crowd - Burnmad, Lhikevikk, Canis - but could not see any.

 

“Hey,” he said. “It’s… good to see you all.”

 

“How did you die?” Chro asked.

 

“I didn’t… I was teleported here,” Voltex answered. “Is this… another Rebellion?”

 

“It’s everyone that we’ve managed to save from the White Council,” TBK replied.

 

“And others,” Blade said, scowling.

 

“Others?” Voltex asked, narrowing his eyes at the Vo-Matoran. “Wait… something’s different about you. You’re….”

 

“Female, yeah,” Blade said, shrugging. “Red Star lets you reset, so I did. It’s not that big a deal, I hope.”

 

“Nah,” Voltex replied. “Just didn’t realize at first. I didn’t even know this place existed until TBK told me where I was - but hey, if there’s a giant facility that reverses death, then anything is possible.”

 

“Listen Voltex, there’s… some stuff that you should know, before you get your hopes up,” TBK interrupted, looking a little nervous.

 

The Ba-Matoran held up a hand. “Hold it - first things first. There are some missing - where’s Burnmad? Where’s Lhikevikk?”

 

“Burnmad?” Blade asked. “Did he die?”

 

“Yeah,” Voltex answered. “We were attacked by some strange being in Ta-Metru… Burnmad got hit by this cannon blast and he just… rusted. Fell apart. I don’t even know how it’s possible, though - we’re not entirely mechanical.”

 

“We managed to scan the weapon a few weeks back,” TBK replied. “It seems to turn organic material into metal… while also causing all metal that’s a part of the target to rapidly rust and fall apart. It’s extremely painful, and… also permanent. The best way I can describe the Red Star to you is like a computer system saving the encrypted version of a file when you delete it - if you try hard enough, you can still find that file and bring it back. But if you go to all the trouble to find the file and then remove it again, it’s gone for good… and if you die up here on the Red Star, it’s permanent. The rust cannon bypasses that whole process. If you’re hit by it, no matter where you are, you’re going to be dead forever.”

 

“I was hit by it, though. I survived,” Voltex said, confused. “I got frozen.”

 

“Then you’re extraordinarily lucky,” Zakaro said, speaking up for the first time. “But Burnmad… I’m sorry, Voltex, but he’s gone. He’s gone for good.”

 

“What about Lhikevikk, though?” Voltex asked, glancing around hopefully. “He’s here somewhere, right? Or Sumiki… I need to apologize.”

 

“Voltex… they’re…” RG started, before breaking off, sharing a hopeless glance with Zakaro.

 

“They’re what?” Voltex asked, clenching his fists. “They’re what?!”

 

“They’re dead,” TBK said. “Voltex… the being that attacked you in Ta-Metru, the one who killed Burnmad… when did they attack you?”

 

“Just a few days ago,” the Ba-Matoran whispered, stepping back. “Why?”

 

“This being… the ‘Shadow’... has been hunting us down for months,” TBK explained grimly. “Sumiki, Lhikevikk, Pupwa, Flaredrick, Scanty, Squishy… they were all killed by the Shadow.”

 

“But…” Voltex paused, forcing down the sadness that threatened to overwhelm him, grasping desperately for a shred of logic. “Squishy was with the White Council. Why would they kill him as well?”

 

“The Shadow isn’t working for the White Council,” TBK answered.

 

“But-”

 

“Voltex, everyone here… this is what’s left,” Blade said. “If you’re looking for anyone who died besides us, then I’m sorry. But we’re all that the White Council and the Shadow have left.”

 

The Ba-Matoran’s vision went red as sadness and fury overtook him in a smooth motion, as he plunged into a fit of despair. He whirled around and punched the wall, letting out a harsh yell of anger, before sinking against the wall and collapsing to his knees, eyes shut tight. Everyone else fell silent, and Voltex fell still.

 

Finally, he spoke again, quietly. “You said that Ehks was still alive. What happened?”

 

“He… rejoined the White Council,” TBK said, uncertainty evident in his tone. “We thought that he was just going undercover, but then we found out that he shot Locke… and then after he captured Automaton, we realized that we’d been wrong about him the whole time. I’m sorry - he’s beyond saving.”

 

“That’s not why I was asking,” Voltex said, standing back to his feet, eyes narrowed. “He’ll be hunting me down - splitting their forces up to cover more ground and catch me faster. That leaves us with a golden opportunity.”

 

“For what?” RG asked.

 

“To destroy the Red Star.”

To Be Continued.

 

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---[PORTALFIG]---

 

“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” Portalfig said nervously, pausing outside of the door. “I mean… like, he might not like me? I don’t… want him to, you know… not like me.”

 

White Seven chuckled. “Do not worry, Tavahka - I think White One shall be very pleased to meet you. If you are to be my lieutenant, then you must become used to the other members of my council. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Brilliant! Let us step inside, then.”

 

With a small sigh, Portalfig stepped forward and the door slid open, revealing the intimidating form of White One seated at a desk, staring right at him. The Onu-Matoran stumbled forward as White Seven gave him a small shove, glancing around the room as he caught his balance. A small smirk appeared on White One’s face.

 

“Please, have a seat - both of you,” he said, gesturing to the two chairs waiting. “I have been… waiting.”

 

As he took his seat, Portalfig fought back a frown - something about White One was… familiar. Like he had seen him before.

 

Of course you have, he thought. But still…

 

“So… Tavahka,” White One began. “Tell me about yourself. You are the one who put a stop to that whole little ‘Operation Rainfall’ awhile back, were you not?”

 

“I-I was, yes, sir.”

 

“Indeed…” White One said, leaning back contemplatively. “And what, pray tell, have you been doing since then? I am ordinarily able to keep tabs on everyone that I wish to. But you… it has been as though you dropped off the face of the universe.”

 

“Well, you probably won’t believe me,” Portalfig replied, making sure to look apologetic, “but I got mixed up with some dimensional gates. Got lost in a few other universes for awhile. Honestly, I didn’t even know that I’d found my way back until I heard about the civil war.”

 

“And why is that?” White One asked, leaning forward.

 

“Because I knew the White Council to be strong,” Portalfig lied, “but in those universes… well, the White Council had clearly been stronger than they are here, and they had already been taken down. They’d already lost. Most of them were dead; the lucky few still alive had all been imprisoned within stasis tubes.”

 

“That is… most interesting.” White One murmured, sharing a glance with White Seven. “You are sure that you want him as your lieutenant?”

 

“Absolutely,” White Seven replied, nodding. “When the time comes, I believe he will not hesitate.”

 

“That is good,” White One said. “Very well. That is all. You are free to-”

 

He was interrupted as the door slid open again and White Four sprinted into the room, skidding to a stop beside the desk and leaning over it.

 

“We’ve got trouble,” White Four said. “White Nine’s outpost is under attack - well, it’s about to be, at least.”

 

“Calm down,” White One ordered. “Under attack by whom? Our spies have reported nothing.”

 

“Three Matoran approaching it,” White Four responded. “JiMing is there - it’s a Rebellion attack, but it doesn’t seem like there are any others inbound. I’ve dispatched guards to warn White Nine already.”

 

“Call them back,” White One ordered. “We cannot spare extra forces at this point in time. White Nine can fare on his own against three Matoran. You know we have more pressing issues.”

 

“But-” White Four started.

 

“I said no,” White One growled. “We are still unable to locate Voltex or Burnmad - no trace of them except for a street reduced to rubble in Ta-Metru. That is what worries me, White Four - not three rogue Matoran on a suicide mission. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Good,” White One said, eyes narrowed.

 

“If I may speak,” White Seven interrupted, “but is White Eight not nearby to White Nine? It would not hurt to have him head over just in case.”

 

“Fine,” White One growled. “White Seven, take Tavahka and wait in the conference room. White Four, gather as many of the others as possible and head there yourself. I shall contact White Eight and meet you all there shortly. Am I understood?”

 

“Yes sir,” the other two White Turaga said in unision.

 

---[AGENT 64]---

 

Agent 64 crept towards the door, ice blaster at the ready as Letagi followed behind her. When White Seven had ordered her to take the Bo-Matoran down to the interrogation center, she had gone in that direction - and then promptly broken orders as soon as White Seven was out of sight. She had explained the situation to Letagi as best as she could, and in return had been told that Tavahka was secretly an operative of the Rebellion - Portalfig - in disguise.

 

In retrospect, it was a blemish on her record. She should have realized who it was sooner. But that did not matter.

 

What did matter was that, with White Seven having gotten them into the restricted areas of the Coliseum, Agent 64 and Letagi had easily infiltrated the area known as the “Deep” - a secret prison contained deep underneath the Coliseum, reserved for the prisoners that the White Council deemed too dangerous to even let anyone know existed.

 

She stepped towards the only entrance, peering through the small square window in the door - noticing nothing, she signalled for Letagi to follow as she silently twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside the prison area and onto an observation platform. Agent 64 approached the edge, leaning on the railing and staring down fifty feet below as Letagi joined her.

 

“Is that… Windrider?” Letagi asked.

 

“I think so,” Agent 64 murmured, pulling out a small cylinder from her cloak and activating the telescoping lens inside, staring down. “Yeah, that’s Windrider. I can see Xccj as well… the back corner. GSR is the one sitting in the middle. He might be meditating….”

 

“What about the others?”

 

“I’m looking,” she snapped, swinging the lens around to focus on a Ko-Matoran. “I see-”

 

She broke off at the sight of blue eyes that turned towards her, piercing straight through her, staring right into her soul-

 

“Hey,” Letagi said, waving his hand in front of her face. “You still there?”

 

The midnight blue Ko-Matoran blinked, glaring at Letagi and deactivating the telescoping lens, fighting back a shudder. “Yes, I’m fine.”

 

“I, uh, do actually have a question…” Letagi continued, trailing off and looking away. “Why are you… being like this to me?”

 

“Being like what?”

 

“Like… nice, and stuff. I don’t get it.”

 

Agent 64 spared him a glance, blinking and shaking her head to clear the image of a Ko-Matoran from her mind before replying, “you remind me of someone I used to know. That’s all.”

 

Letagi was just opening his mouth to reply when the tell-tale glow and buzz of an incoming teleportation lit up behind them. Acting on instinct, Agent 64 tackled the Bo-Matoran to the ground, activating her cloaking unit just in time to conceal them from White Five, who stalked towards the edge of the observation deck, glaring down at the prisoners below.

 

“Don’t move,” Agent 64 whispered.

 

They watched as White Five turned, glancing around the Deep suspiciously, muttering to himself. As they stared, Agent 64 realized that they must have triggered some sort of alarm - it was a miracle that there were no surveillance cameras to catch them, although the lack of surveillance technology made sense. After all, if you did not want anyone to know that a prison existed, the best way to keep up that facade was to keep the evidence to a minimum.

 

A device on White Five’s wrist beeped, blinking green; the White Turaga glared at it, muttering to himself before stepping back onto the teleportation pad and vanishing. Agent 64 stood, pulling Letagi back to his feet and deactivating her cloaking unit.

 

“Come on,” she ordered. “We got lucky - we can’t count on that again. We need to get out of here.”

 

“What about them?” Letagi asked, pointing towards the prison chamber below.

 

“We can’t help them right now,” Agent 64 said. “They’ve been down there for years - they can wait a little longer.”

 

She pulled the protesting Bo-Matoran behind her, and had just reached the door when she saw the shadows gathering through the tiny window. Eyes widening, she stumbled back, Letagi helping her to stay on her feet.

 

“What is it?” he asked.

 

“Shut up,” she said frantically, backing away.

 

Agent 64 activated her cloaking device once more, praying that it would outlast the new arrival, as an energy blast hit the door and it rapidly began to rust from the inside out, opening a gap that the Shadow stepped through, the rust cannon retracting into their arm. The Shadow walked forward, halting at the edge of the observation platform; Agent 64 silently cursed as her cloaking device deactivated, the stress of keeping two Matoran invisible too much. The midnight blue Ko-Matoran glared at Letagi, silently warning the Bo-Matoran to remain silent as the Shadow withdrew another weapon, taking aim down below.

 

What are you doing? Agent 64 wondered, creeping forward and drawing her dagger.

 

The Shadow fired something down below; a second later, the explosion shook even the observation deck, causing Agent 64 to pause. She glanced back to Letagi and shook her head as the Bo-Matoran moved to intervene before turning back to the Shadow, who was taking aim again. She took a deep breath, forcing down the fear welling up inside of her.

 

Three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

Silently, she dove forward, aiming the dagger at the Shadow’s back; the Shadow swung around to face her and she shifted her blow to defend against the large hunting knife that the Shadow had drawn. They dueled in rapid motion for several seconds before Agent 64 pulled out her ice blaster and fired; the Shadow dodged and kicked her away, firing another bomb down into the prison below. With a cry, Letagi lunged forward, but Agent 64 blasted him back, throwing down a teleportation disk.

 

“Letagi, get out!” she ordered.

 

As the Shadow activated their rust cannon, taking aim, Agent 64 dove forward and landed feet first on the teleportation pad, grabbing Letagi by the shoulder at the last second as she was yanked away to their destination before the Shadow could kill them both.

 

They reappeared just outside the Coliseum, sprawling onto the ground. Letagi let out a frustrated cry, pounding the ground with his fist.

 

“Why did you leave?!” he snapped, turning to her. “We could have saved them!”

 

“They’re already dead,” Agent 64 said, glaring at the Bo-Matoran. “We would have both been killed. That enemy is too powerful and too unknown - we need to learn more about them if we’re to have any hope of defeating them. Stay here - I need to send a message.”

 

Letagi muttered something inaudible as she turned and walked away, opening up her communication tablet and sending a message to control.

 

[AGENT 64 TO CONTROL]

[sHADOW ENCOUNTERED AGAIN IN DEEP. NO SURVIVORS EXPECTED FROM THE PRISONERS.]

 

She had to wait only a few seconds before the reply came through.

 

[CONTROL TO AGENT 64]

[CONFIRMED. WILL FOLLOW UP ONCE PHASE THREE IS COMPLETE. PLANS SHALL BE ADJUSTED ACCORDINGLY. REMAIN WITH RESISTANCE OR WHITE COUNCIL FOR NEXT FEW DAYS, AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.]

 

With a sigh, she put the communication tablet away, turning to stare at the Coliseum with narrowed eyes. If they could not find out more about the Shadow soon… she was beginning to fear the consequences.

 

---[JIMING]---

 

Readying the energy cannon that had activated where his right hand normally was and hefting the shield in his left hand, JiMing nodded grimly to Pohatu and Ghidora before turning and letting out the blast that he had been charging, knocking the entrance to the outpost off of its hinges. As the slab of metal flew through the air, he fired off several more blasts, knocking the guards within out of their chairs as Pohatu rushed to the nearest console and began to rapidly type in commands.

 

“You two hold them off!” the Po-Matoran yelled. “There’s a Dread nest nearby! I might be able to re-program them - get us some backup!”

 

JiMing rolled forward, flipping to his feet and blasting the nearest guard that had been woozily standing to their feet. Across the room, Ghidora drew his “sword breaker” dagger and immediately put it to use, snapping the blade of a guard’s sword into several pieces before stabbing the guard through the neck. The Ta-Matoran fired off several blasts, disarming and killing a guard before they could reach Ghidorra and then turning to slam his shield into the head of another, glancing over to Pohatu.

 

“How much longer?!”

 

“Gimme a minute!”

 

Knowing that they did not have long before the White Council’s forces would arrive, JiMing turned to sprint down the hallway towards the elevator when he heard the tell-tale ding of the doors opening and, acting on instinct, threw his shield in front of himself. Something impacted upon it and threw him backwards, sending him crashing into the ground outside as he flew through the open doorway. Shaking his head to clear it, JiMing raced back towards the entrance, only to be forced to combat roll to the side in order to avoid the rubble from the wall as it was blasted outwards.

 

As he stood to his feet, JiMing grimly stared at the familiar form of Shadowhawk as the Shadow Matoran walked down the hallway with a member of the White Council.

 

“JiMing,” he called, a smirk on his face. “How nice to see you again! White Nine and I were just discussing you!”

 

Not bothering with a response, JiMing fired several energy blasts; White Nine reached out and his fallen staff (JiMing assumed that was what had been thrown at him) suddenly spun through the air back towards him, deflecting the shots. Then White Nine suddenly lunged forward, swinging the rod at Ghidora’s head; the Ga-Matoran blocked it with his dagger just in time, but White Nine kicked him and sent him sprawling across the floor. JiMing leaped towards them, aiming to help Ghidora, but the staff slammed into him, sending him flying back outside. JiMing cursed as Ghidora landed beside him, helping the Ga-Matoran to his feet.

 

“You made a grave mistake, attacking us today,” White Nine said, his eyes narrowed as he and Shadowhawk stepped through the broken wall. “Look around you, fools - you are outnumbered.”

 

JiMing frowned as he glanced around; soldiers of the White Council were slowly gathering, encircling himself and Ghidora. They were utterly surrounded.

 

“YEAH!”

 

The triumphant cry from Pohatu preceded the Po-Matoran jumping onto Shadowhawk from behind, grappling with him; Shadowhawk snarled in surprise, tossing the Po-Matoran aside, only to find JiMing’s blaster at his face. The Matoran of Shadow dodged away from the blast, drawing two short swords from their sheaths on his back and grinning sadistically.

 

“You’re wrong, you know,” JiMing said, turning to White Nine. “We’re not outnumbered.”

 

That was when the first Vahki Dread landed with a crunch on top of several White Council soldiers, firing a blast into the circle and killing several of the outpost guards instantly. White Nine cursed and lunged forward, slamming his staff into the right side of the Dread unit’s neck, knocking the head clean off. The White Turaga landed, snarling at the troops, “go for the neck!”

 

Without another word, the battle broke out - as the other Vahki Dread units struck, White Nine lunged towards JiMing only to be tackled aside by Pohatu. As the White Turaga rolled away and engaged both Ghidora and Pohatu, JiMing turned to Shadowhawk and threw his shield up to block the knife that had been thrown at him. It bounced away as he charged towards Shadowhawk, slamming his shield into Shadowhawk’s head and firing a blast that the Matoran of Shadow dodged with a laugh.

 

“Finally, we can have our true rematch at last!” Shadowhawk taunted him, laughing as he whirled away. “Come to me, JiMing! Let us fight!”

 

Narrowing his eyes, JiMing sprinted towards Shadowhawk, ducking underneath the arm of a Dread and jumping over a fallen soldier as he fired another blast, swinging his shield around to block a blow from Shadowhawk and then taking aim again - only to curse, realizing too late that he had forgotten to account for the second blade. It sliced up through the blaster, which fell away from JiMing’s arm in pieces as it was destroyed. He knelt down and grabbed a rock with his now free right hand, whipping it at Shadowhawk and catching him in the shoulder. As Shadowhawk was knocked back, JiMing glanced around worriedly.

 

He was just in time to witness the new wave of Vahki Dread units, larger than the group Pohatu had summoned, swarming over them, battling with the malfunctioning units alongside both the remaining guards from the outpost and new soldiers. Distracted, he did not notice Shadowhawk rushing towards him until it was too late to stop him; Shadowhawk shoulder him, sending JiMing flying through the air to land at the feet of Pohatu, who helped him to his feet as Ghidora was knocked into them.

 

“You know,” a new voice called, as a figure almost identical to White Nine jumped down from the roof of the outpost, landing between Shadowhawk and White Nine, “I’m glad I decided to come, White Nine! It looks like you weren’t doing so well after all!”

 

“We were doing just fine,” White Nine snarled. “Your presence is not necessary, White Eight.”

 

“Perhaps not - but I’m sure it’s appreciated,” White Eight said, clapping his hands together and turning to them. “So… JiMing, is it? I’ve heard much about you!”

 

Something in the corner of his eye caught JiMing’s attention, his eyes flickered to the rooftop of a building down the street, where a Matoran was crouching, taking aim with - was that a rocket launcher?

 

The Matoran fired and the rocket hit the ground at the edge of the circle of troops that had formed, the shockwave blasting everyone present off of their feet. And then a single voice rang through the air - a voice that JiMing recognized as none other than ToaD.

 

“ATTACK!”

 

ToaD landed into a kneeling position before the three Matoran as they were pushing themselves back to their feet, charging at the two White Turaga and Shadowhawk; JiMing shared a glance with Ghidora and Pohatu before they followed.

 

White Nine split off from the others, leading Ghidora and Pohatu to pursue him; meanwhile, JiMing charged side-by-side with ToaD as the general drew two throwing knives from the dozens hanging off of his body and whipped them towards White Eight. JiMing lifted his shield in front of him and swung it at Shadowhawk, knocking one of his short swords away. Kicking Shadowhawk in the knee, JiMing dove to the side and grabbed the sword, swinging it at Shadowhawk as ToaD drew two more knives and easily parried a strike from White Eight’s sword. The general moved with blinding speed, pressing the attack on the White Turaga and forcing White Eight to slowly retreat in order to keep up.

 

Yelling a battle cry, Shadowhawk swung towards JiMing, who deflected the blow with his shield and retaliated with a blow of his own; Shadowhawk deftly twisted the blade and caused the sword to fly out of JiMing’s hand, embedding itself in the dirt several feet away. Knowing he could not allow Shadowhawk to gain the advantage, JiMing pressed forward, ducking underneath Shadowhawk’s blows and attacking with his shield, trying to slam it into the Shadow Matoran.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw as White Nine spiralled into the wall with Pohatu on top of him, Ghidora chasing after them. Another snarl alerted him to Shadowhawk’s latest charge and he instinctively ducked, causing the Shadow Matoran to miss him entirely. Spotting his window, JiMing stood and swung his shield, slamming it into Shadowhawk’s chest and knocking him back inside the outpost. Shadowhawk rolled away from his next attack and dove back outside, but JiMing was ready; the Ta-Matoran threw his shield through the air, catching Shadowhawk in the back on the head and sending him flying out of sight. Taking a deep breath, JiMing climbed back out of the hole in the wall, only to flinch as White Eight smashed into the bricks headfirst, blinking in a dazed fashion as he started to get back up.

 

“No! You do not get back up!” ToaD snarled stalking towards them and gripping White Eight by the top of his head, yanking him back. “You die now!”

 

In one smooth motion, with his free hand ToaD grabbed another knife and then stabbed White Eight in the chin. As the White Turaga gurgled, blood flowing from the wound, ToaD leaned down and grabbed the White Turaga’s fallen sword, swiftly beheading him and kicking the body away, sneering distastefully at the head before tossing it too aside.

 

“You… you just…” JiMing trailed off, gaping at him.

 

ToaD was about to respond when Ghidora crashed to the ground in front of him, standing woozily without acknowledging them and rushing back towards White Nine, who was currently dueling against Pohatu, who appeared to have armed himself with a Vahki blade. JiMing glanced to ToaD, and the two grinned at each other before sprinting towards them, JiMing retrieving his shield along the way. They reached White Nine just as Pohatu was disarmed; ToaD deftly threw a knife that embedded itself in White Nine’s shoulder, distracted White Nine long enough for JiMing to slam his shield into the White Turaga’s face, knocking White Nine onto his back.

 

“This one’s mine,” Ghidora said, pushing past ToaD.

 

The Ga-Matoran stepped on White Nine’s stomach, holding him in place as he stabbed the White Turaga in the chest with his sword breaker. White Nine convulsed, tripping Ghidora; before the Ga-Matoran could get back up, Pohatu lunged forwards, grabbing two of ToaD’s knives off of ToaD’s utility belt and stabbing them through White Nine’s eyes, tilted up so that they went straight through the White Turaga’s brain. White Nine let out a groan before falling motionless and silent.

 

JiMing ignored the sound of Shadowhawk calling a retreat, and he ignored it as the White Council’s forces did just that, abandoning the outpost as the Rebellion forces that had ambushed them launched a few projectiles after them. He exchanged a glance with Pohatu, Ghidora, and finally ToaD before Pohatu finally spoke, still kneeling beside White Nine’s corpse.

 

“Well,” the Po-Matoran said, panting for breath, “that was… certainly something.”

 

---[EHKS/WHITE THIRTEEN]---

 

“I’m disappointed,” White Thirteen said, staring at White Eight and White Nine, who were both scowling. “The Triplets told me that we’d gotten two new arrivals… but to find you here? Killed in a silly skirmish for some worthless outpost? That is… I fear I do not have the words.”

 

“White Ten will want to know, sir,” Quisoves said quietly from behind him. “We should return to the control room.”

 

“You two shall follow us,” White Thirteen snapped, turning to the Triplets. “Very well - we shall return to the control room. Let us be gone from this place. Cyrix, Underscore, make sure that White Eight and White Nine do not manage to die on the way there.”

 

“Yes sir,” they both said, moving to trail at the back of the group.

 

White Thirteen stalked into the hallway, with Quisoves at his side, and had just turned in the direction of the control room when a new voice stopped him in his tracks, freezing him in place.

 

“Hey there, Ehks.”

 

He slowly turned to face the speaker, sneering as he said, “Voltex.”

 

The Ba-Matoran shrugged. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it, old friend?”

 

“We are not friends,” White Thirteen spat, injecting as much venom as he could.

 

“That’s a shame,” Voltex said lightly. “And here I thought you were on my side.”

 

White Thirteen turned to Quisoves, who glanced at him questioningly. When he nodded, Quisoves lunged forward, elbowing Voltex in the side of the head and forcing him to his knees, withdrawing a pair of energy cuffs and locking them around the other Ba-Matoran’s wrists. Exhaustion immediately became visible on Voltex’s face as the energy cuffs leeched his strength from it. Letting out a cruel laugh, White Thirteen turned back towards the control room.

 

“Let’s go. I’m sure White Ten will appreciate this prize.”


To Be Continued.

 

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---[PORTALFIG]---

 

He stood straight and tall with his hands clasped behind his back, trying not to lean on the wall directly behind him. He stood right behind the chair of White Seven, who was seated at a round table with several other members of the White Council - White One, White Two, White Three, White Four, White Five, White Six, and White Eleven. Six empty spots were a reminder of the council members absent.

 

“Why are we meeting?” White Five asked, glaring around the table. “We should be fighting!”

 

“Fighting is precisely the reason that we are meeting,” White One responded, gazing around the room. “As we speak, both White Eight and White Nine ascend to the Red Star. Their outposts have been overrun, and that will allow the Rebellion a direct line of attack into the Coliseum.”

 

“So why aren’t we out there?!” White Five snapped. “Let’s go!”

 

“Patience,” White One said quietly, silencing the other council member. “The bulk of our forces are already gathered both within and around the Coliseum, along with a legion of Dread units. The Rebellion shall foolishly make one final push… and when they do, they shall perish.”

 

“Where is White Twelve?” White Four interrupted, glancing around. “He should be here… should he not?”

 

“Don’t worry about him,” White Seven said easily, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet upon the table. “I had dear Tavahka here send him up.”

 

Portalfig remained still, fighting the impulse to flinch as every single member of the White Council turned to stare at him. White Five flashed to his feet, his chair flipping back and crashing to the floor as he pointed at the Onu-Matoran, shaking with fury.

 

“Why is he still standing there?” he spat. “He should have been executed on the spot! I thought you said he was trustworthy!”

 

“He is,” White Seven said, shrugging. “He did it on my orders.”

 

“And I approved it,” White One said, his eyes glinting dangerously in White Five’s direction. “White Twelve was being… difficult, recently, with regards to the Deep. He had to be taught a lesson.”

 

White Five glared at White One for several seconds before tersely grabbing his chair and setting it upright again, taking his seat. White One glanced around the room before continuing.

 

“The final battle is upon us,” he said. “When the Rebellion attacks… I want all of you in the field as well. Kill every Rebellion member that you see. At the end of the day… there will not be any survivors from their side. We have tortured them and had mercy upon them for far too long.”

 

“And what about you?” White Four asked.

 

“I shall wait atop the Coliseum,” White One said, a small smirk appearing on his face. “I am expecting a visitor.”

 

---[EHKS/WHITE THIRTEEN]---

 

The doors to the control room slid open before them, revealing White Ten and White Twelve deep in conversation. The two fell silent as they glanced at the new arrivals, eyes widening in shock - and, in White Ten’s case, triumph as well.

 

“White Eight? White Nine?” asked White Twelve. “What happened?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” White Thirteen snapped, reaching back and grabbing the prisoner by the neck, tossing the Ba-Matoran to the floor where he remained on his knees. “This is more important. We’ve captured Voltex.”

 

The Triplets, White Eight and White Nine slowly fanned out, forming a circle around Voltex. The Ba-Matoran’s head hung low, his energy sapped by the cuffs around his wrists. He would pass out any moment now - although if White Thirteen was honest with himself, he knew that the Ba-Matoran should have passed out already.

 

Then Voltex spoke - softly, quietly; too quiet to hear.

 

“Speak up,” White Ten ordered.

 

“I was just asking if this is really what he wants,” Voltex replied, raising his head to stare White Ten down. “You know, Ehks over there.”

 

“What are you talking about?” White Thirteen asked irritably, shooting a warning glance at Cyrix as the Triplet moved to step forward.

 

Voltex shifted himself, turning to face White Thirteen instead. “I wanted to know if this is what you really want. To be stuck in this room for the rest of eternity, torturing those who are already dead until they’re brainless husks.”

 

“Of course not!” White Thirteen snapped.

 

“Then why are you doing it now?” Voltex asked. “Look around you, Ehks - look at your friends. Or rather, your lack of them. You’ve got White Ten, who still doesn’t trust you. You’ve got White Eight and White Nine, who hate you. You’ve got the Triplets, enslaved to you because they know that if they make one wrong move, you’ll rip their throats off. You have no friends. You don’t even have any allies. Are you really content to just sit here for eternity?”

 

“I….” White Thirteen trailed off as he considered the Ba-Matoran’s words.

 

“Shut up now!” White Ten ordered, stepping forward and kicking Voltex in the stomach, knocking him to the floor. “You shut your dirty mouth!”

 

“Enough!” White Thirteen snapped. “Leave him be, White Ten.”

 

“No,” White Ten breathed, his eyes blazing with fury. “He killed me… I’m gonna gut him. I’m gonna make him feel pain.”

 

“I will kill you where you stand if you even try,” White Thirteen retorted. “White One wants him left alive, and you know that.”

 

“Look at that,” Voltex interrupted, nodding to White Ten. “White One put you in charge of this place, Ehks. And none of them even follow your orders when you give them. The only true allies - the only true friends - that you ever had were the survivors of the Conference. And you threw that away. But I’m here to give it back. I’m here to give you one final chance. One final chance to redeem yourself.”

 

“I SAID SHUT UP!” White Ten roared, kicking Voltex in the head, causing the Ba-Matoran to curse.

 

“BACK OFF!” White Thirteen shouted, drawing his sword and stalking forward.

 

White Ten froze but remained where he was, a sly grin appearing on his face. “Why? Going soft, Thirteen? Is that what it is?”

 

“Is that… what you want to be?” Voltex asked, coughing. “Just… a number? Just… another… number?”

 

It was as though a blast of lightning had pierced his mind, splintering right through a cloud of fog that he had not even known was there, clearing his thoughts. A red wave of fury rose through him, consuming him at the very idea.

 

“I AM NOT A NUMBER!” he roared, leaning down over Voltex. “MY NAME IS XARON!”

 

“Really?” Voltex whispered, staring at him. “Then prove it.”

 

He hesitated for only a second.

 

And then with a mighty cry, White Thirteen - no, Ehks - slammed the hilt of his sword into the side of White Twelve’s face, sending the White Turaga sprawling across the floor. In one smooth motion he sliced the cuffs off of Voltex’s wrists and the Ba-Matoran deftly rolled to the side as energy surged back into his limbs, easily avoiding a kick from White Ten. As Voltex rolled to his feet beside him, Ehks began to back up, holding his sword out in front of him.

 

“You’re a fool,” White Ten spat, drawing his own sword. “Your backs are against the wall - we all stand between you and your exit!”

 

With a frown, Ehks glanced past White Ten and saw that he was right - White Ten had subtly maneuvered them so that their backs were to the consoles. As the White Turaga and the Triplets drew their weapons, Ehks turned to the un-armed Voltex, taking a deep breath.

 

“Well, I guess this is it,” he said. “I hope you’re ready to go down fighting.”

 

“Oh, I was born ready,” Voltex replied, smirking. “But we aren’t dying today.”

 

Confused, Ehks’s frowned deepened. “What do you mean?”

 

A grin grew on Voltex’s face. “I brought friends.”

 

The sound of the doors to the control room sliding open alerted Ehks to the new arrivals just as a familiar Po-Matoran - TBK, he remembered - charged inside.

 

“FOR FREEDOM!” TBK yelled, parrying a blow from White Twelve with his hammer. “ATTACK!”

 

The White Turaga and Triplets scattered as a group of Matoran streamed into the room - Ehks recognized Zakaro, Chro, Blade, Unit, RG, Voxumo, Valendale, Kante and Smoke Monster before he was shoved into Voltex, sprawling on top of the Ba-Matoran as they fell to the floor. He swung his sword up just in time to block the attack from White Eight, holding against the blow despite his awkward position as Voltex slithered out from under and called out to TBK, who tossed a sword to him across the room. The Ba-Matoran caught it with ease, and as he did so the blade ignited; he swung it towards White Eight in an arc of fire, forcing the White Turaga to retreat. Ehks used the opportunity to push himself to his feet, pressing the attack.

 

“Do you have him?” Voltex asked, glancing over his shoulder.

 

“White Ten is yours,” Ehks replied, kicking White Eight back. “Go get him.”

 

“I… do need you to do something for me,” Voltex said. “I don’t know how to work the controls - but you need to set this place on a collision course so that we can destroy it.”

 

“Understood,” Ehks said with a nod, staring at White Eight as he pushed himself to his feet.

 

By the time White Eight attacked again, Voltex had vanished. As White Eight reached him and he began to parry the White Turaga’s attacks, Ehks heard the voice of White Nine above the sounds of battle.

 

“Kestora, kill the Matoran! Kill every single one! Only the White Council survives!”

 

He turned towards the voice, watching as Quisoves turned to White Nine, looking unsure - and then the leader of the Triplets backflipped away from White Nine’s staff as the White Turaga turned on him. Quisoves’s eyes narrowed - and then Ehks cried out as he was sent stumbling by a blow to the head.

 

“You idiotic fool,” White Eight said casually, following him. “Never take your eyes off of an opponent.”

 

Ehks ignored him, glancing towards the main console behind his opponent. If he could reach it... .

 

White Eight followed his gaze and laughed. “By all means, Thirteen, you may try to do as that Gravity Matoran has ordered you to do. Crash the Red Star - if you can get through me.”

 

With a furious yell, Ehks lunged forwards, swinging his sword with blinding speed and forcing White Eight back. At first, it seemed he would beat the White Turaga - but then, with a calculating look, White Eight ducked underneath a blow and sliced upwards - and then Ehks cried out in pain and shock as his right arm, hand still clutching his sword, fell to the floor, sliced off right below his elbow. Shaking, he clutched at the stump with his left hand, trying to stem the flow of blood as White Eight casually wiped the blood off of his sword, stepping forward. Ehks collapsed to his knees, shutting his eyes as he tried to fight off the pain.

 

“So ends the reign of Thirteen, eh?” White Eight said, chuckling. “Don’t worry - I’m sure not existing anymore won’t hurt… too much.”

 

Opening his eyes, Ehks glanced up at White Eight.

 

“You can’t dodge your fate, Thirteen,” White Eight said, slowly raising his sword. “Not this time.”

 

“Hey,” a new voice said. “Dodge this.”

 

White Eight turned straight into the barrel of the shotgun; the blast ripped apart his Kanohi, and his face burst opening in a small explosion of blood and metal as he fell back against the console. Quisoves pumped the shotgun, discarding the shell as he kneeled down and pulled Ehks to his feet, his eyes narrowed.

 

“I’ve been loyal to the White Council for years,” Quisoves said quietly. “And I will follow you until the end. But these traitors… I shall see them all destroyed.”

 

Still clutching the stump of his arm, Ehks glanced to White Eight, who was moaning, the gaping crater where his face used to be dripping blood. He turned back to Quisoves, who shrugged, turning away.

 

“He’s all yours.”

 

Eyes narrowed, Ehks slowly crouched, grabbing his sword with his hand and facing White Eight as he stood. White Eight seemed to sense his incumbent demise, reaching out an arm towards Ehks briefly.

 

“P-please…” the White Turaga managed to moan. “Please….”

 

“Your time is up,” Ehks declared, swinging his sword up and then stabbing it right through White Eight’s head.

 

White Eight fell limp, impaled upon the console, which had begun to blare. Ehks yanked his sword out and dropped it to the floor with a clatter, sparing the stump of his arm a glance as he shoved the corpse off of the console; the advanced technology he had been augmented with long ago was already at work, armor replicating over the stump and staunching the blood. Fingers drifting over the keys, Ehks did not hesitate as he put in the code, activating the navigation system. Setting a course that would cause them to impact with Metru-Nui, the Av-Matoran nodded in satisfaction before turning back to the battle, picking up his sword once again.

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

Voltex dodged and weaved around the control room, slicing and stabbing the Kestora left and right as he approached White Ten. An explosion caught his eye a split second before the shockwave knocked him off of his feet, debris from the wall scattering over him.  The Ba-Matoran stood to his feet and ducked underneath a Kestora, stabbing it in the stomach with his sword and glancing around, searching for White Ten.

 

“Voltex!”

 

He turned at the sound of Ehks’s voice. The Av-Matoran stumbled towards him, cutting down a Kestora that was in his way.

 

“What happened to your arm?!”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ehks said frantically. “I might have accidentally stabbed the console and caused the Red Star’s systems to start crashing. We’ll land in Metru-Nui, but… we’re about to lose both gravity and life support. We need to get to the bunker room; it has separate generators, we might survive.”

 

Voltex nodded. “REBELLION, RETREAT! GET TO THE BUNKER!”

 

“No!”

 

Ehks was knocked to the side as White Ten tackled Voltex through the hole in the wall, and they both collided painfully with the other side of the hall as Voltex threw the White Turaga off of him.

 

“You will not reach that bunker!” White Ten snarled, lunging forward and tackling him again as the Red Star suddenly shifted around them.

 

Voltex punched White Ten away and spiralled through the air as the gravity systems shut down. All around him, the Red Star tilted as it began to make its descent; Voltex pushed off of the wall, cutting through a Kestora about to stab Underscore and then wrapping his arms around another about to kill Blade; the Vo-Matoran sliced through the Kestora and together they pushed off the walls after White Ten.

 

“Spread the word around that Ehks is back,” Voltex ordered. “We need to get to the bunker or we’ll all be dead.”

 

Blade nodded and took off towards Zakaro and Unit, who were currently duelling White Nine; Voltex pushed himself in the opposite direction, kicking off of the walls as he raced after his target. Up ahead, White Ten slipped around a corner; letting out a battle cry, Voltex spun around the corner and slammed into White Ten just as the council member finished inputting a code, unlocking a massive metal door that began to slowly slide open.

 

“We should have slain you long ago!” White Ten spat.

 

“You should have,” Voltex agreed, narrowing his eyes. “That mistake will cost you this war… and your life.”

 

Igniting Burnmad’s sword once more, Voltex swung it in a wide arc and caught White Ten in the knee, slicing off half of the White Turaga’s left leg. White Ten screamed in pain and rage, pushing himself away from Voltex in desperation as the Ba-Matoran was forced to parry a blow from White Twelve; the battle had reached the bunker. Voltex fell back, overwhelmed by the sudden attack, until a massive, curved blade suddenly sprouted from White Twelve’s chest.

 

As White Twelve grabbed at the blade weakly, Voxumo spun it through the air and tossed the White Turaga through the air, right into TBK’s arms. The Po-Matoran swung his hammer into White Twelve’s face, sending him flying back towards them; Voltex flipped out of the way as White Ten barreled in their direction, tackling Voxumo before the Ko-Matoran could finish off White Twelve.

 

“You are all morons! You destroy the one obstacle between us and death!” White Ten spat. “You kill a universe!”

 

“Shut up,” Voxumo advised, grabbing the White Turaga and hurling him towards Voltex, speaking next to the Ba-Matoran. “Please kill him.”

 

“Gladly.”

 

In one swift movement, Voltex and Voxumo attacked at the same time; Voxumo swung his scythe down, catching both White Twelve and a Kestora in the face, while Voltex threw his flaming sword through the air, spearing White Ten in the throat. White Ten flipped through the air, his momentum carrying him right to Voltex, who grimly pulled the sword out and then swung again, beheading the White Turaga before glancing to Voxumo.

 

“Get inside the bunker,” he ordered. “Fall back!”

 

As the Ko-Matoran led several Rebellion members into the bunker, Voltex remained outside, perched upon the wall and observing the battle, calling for the rest. As the last Kestora fell still, Voltex moved to enter - only for a new flurry of movement from the corner to catch his eye.

 

“Voltex, get inside!” Ehks yelled. “We need to close the doors!”

 

Unit slammed into the wall five feet away from Voltex as Zakaro was smacked away by White Nine, who used his staff to great effect as he propelled himself down the corridor towards them. Voltex swung his flaming sword but was effortlessly knocked aside; Unit shoved him towards the bunker before diving inside himself.

 

“Close the doors!” Unit ordered. “Zakaro will make it!”

 

He had barely finished speaking before Ehks pulled the lever and the doors began to slide shut; just outside, Zakaro grabbed onto White Nine’s staff and wrestled with the White Turaga, trying to take it; seconds later it shot out of their hands, spiralling down the hall as the Red Star groaned.

 

“ZAKARO!” Unit yelled.

 

Zakaro glanced towards them and, crying out with effort, pushed White Nine towards them. The Onu-Matoran kicked off the wall and followed, grabbing White Nine by the neck and slamming him to the floor as they entered the bunker. Without missing a beat Unit joined Zakaro, grabbing onto White Nine’s arms and wrestling with the White Turaga as they pushed him towards the door.

 

“No!” White Nine spat, thrashing fruitlessly. “Do not do this! I order you not to! Put me back!”

 

There was a crunch as the doors closed upon White Nine’s head, crushing it; as Unit and Zakaro released his body, it dangled from the door.

 

Then the Red Star lurched around them.

 

Voltex barely had time to share a worried glance with Blade before he was flying through the air - and then everything went dark.

 

---[EHKS]---

 

He was the first to awaken, the advanced technology that had been a part of him for so long doing its job. He stumbled around the wreckage, coughing and waiting for the dust and smoke to clear, before taking a seat and staring off in the direction that he believed the Coliseum to be in. There he remained for several minutes before he heard footsteps amid the rubble behind him. Turning, he saw Voltex, the Ba-Matoran’s sword still in his hand.

 

“I thought I’d be on my own for awhile,” Ehks said quietly, as Voltex sat down beside him. “The White Council… we have more advanced armor, technology of different sorts built into our bodies to make us… well, better than others.”

 

“So do I,” Voltex replied, shrugging and staring at the blade of his sword. “I… a few days ago… I almost died.”

 

“Well, it is war.”

 

“No, not like that… I mean….” the Ba-Matoran broke off, shaking his head.

 

Worried, Ehks turned to him. “Are you okay?”

 

“No. No, I’m not okay,” Voltex said softly. “I think it’s about time that I realized that. A few days ago, I was with Burnmad in Ta-Metru and this… figure attacked us. Called themselves the ‘Shadow’.”

 

“I’ve heard rumors of someone hunting down prisoners and guards in the Red Star,” Ehks replied.

 

“They have, but… well, we fought. They destroyed an entire street in the span of five minutes. They nearly killed me - they blasted me until my armor, and even some of my limbs, were just shreds. And Burnmad….” Voltex trailed off, gesturing to the sword in his hand. “This is all that’s left of him. The Shadow had some sort of rust cannon. Hit him right in the back… nothing left.”

 

“How did you escape?”

 

“Agent 64 saved me, brought me to this weird place where they fixed me, upgraded me,” Voltex explained. “I met another agent there… Tekulo. And Kayn - he’s still alive, somehow. And then they sent me back, and I went up to the Red Star.”

 

The Ba-Matoran fell silent, and both remained quiet for several minutes before Ehks spoke again.

 

“White One wants to break you,” he said.

 

“I know.”

 

“You… you can’t let that happen,” he continued. “I… remember things. Things that I’d forgotten, that I’d pushed so far back in my mind I didn’t even know they existed anymore. Whatever comes, Tex… just don’t let him break you.”

 

“And if he already has?”

 

“He hasn’t. If he had, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation.”

 

Ehks stood to his feet as the shape of the Coliseum slowly became visible in the distance. He reached down and helped Voltex to stand before turning back to the remains of the bunker, where he could see Chro and Voxumo beginning to stir.

 

“We’d better get going,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to be late for the big fight.”


To Be Continued.

 

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---[sHADOW IGNITED]---

 

It had been three days since the entire city shook and half of Onu-Metru was claimed by the sea. Three days since what Luroka had described as the “Red Star” had fallen from the sky, toppling a third of the city in the process.

 

And still the Coliseum stood, tall and imposing, towering above everyone and everything.

 

She hoped that Aiwendil had returned to base.

 

“Master Luroka wishes to speak with you,” a voice said from behind her.

 

Shadow Ignited turned to face the Ta-Matoran Chambliss, servant to Makuta Luroka… or what was left of Luroka, at any rate. She had tried to get answers out of both Chambliss and the former Makuta regarding how they had met, but both refused to provide that information. She sighed and entered the small, nondescript abandoned shop where they were staying, stopping before Luroka, who was seated upon what appeared to be a poor attempt at constructing a throne. She fought off the twinge of sadness and anger at the sight of the Le-Matoran, knowing that Luroka had long ago destroyed Kumadu’s mind and replaced it with his own.

 

“You wanted me?” she asked stiffly.

 

“I did,” Luroka replied, nodding slowly. “The final battle is about to begin… I can feel it inside.”

 

“How?”

 

“Intuition,” he answered, eyes glinting. “I have lived longer than any Matoran - I have come to be able to sense when important events are most likely to occur. It is not a power, not in the usual sense. Merely a skill of the mind that anyone can learn.”

 

“And what exactly do you want me to do?” she asked, knowing that refusing his wishes was a pointless endeavour.

 

“You must go to the Coliseum,” the former Makuta told her. “Help your comrades - warn them.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“I do not know for sure,” Luroka said, looking slightly worried. “I know of a being that has recently been hunting down those that they can on both sides, with no obvious patterns in the deaths. I fear that they are not operating on their own. I fear that there is a third party operating in this war, one so skillful, so secret, that both the White Council and the Rebellion are blind to their existence. You must warn your comrades of this possibility once you reach the Coliseum.”

 

Without waiting for a response, Luroka reached up to the armor plate covering his right shoulder and ripped it off, hissing as a bit of his essence dissipated into the air. He tossed the armor piece to Shadow Ignited, who managed to catch it at the last second.

 

“Put it on,” he ordered. “I have imbued it with some of my power, some of my life force. Should you need to escape a situation quickly, simply call to me with your mind. I shall hear you, and I shall extract you.”

 

“Why do you care?” Shadow Ignited asked, glancing up from the armor piece. “You’re not the type to care whether those that nearly killed you die themselves.”

 

“You are correct,” Luroka replied, nodding. “But, if I am correct about this third party… well, I fear that anyone that can remain hidden from the White Council is dangerous indeed… and those that escape the notice of Fighty even more so. I cannot guarantee whether they would allow me to survive; and I would hate to see all of my hard work go to waste.”

 

“I’m sure you would,” she muttered. “You know, for a Makuta that used to be of few words, you sure do seem to talk a lot.”

 

“This body… has affected me somewhat,” Luroka admitted. “But I am also not as intimidating as I once was. Matoran bodies are so useless for non-verbal communication. But we digress - you must leave immediately, or you might be too late. Chambliss shall escort you to the nearest functional chute station; from there, you shall be on your own.”

 

“Wonderful,” she replied, turning to the Ta-Matoran. “Ready for our little road trip?”

 

“After you, please,” Chambliss replied, bowing before her.

 

When they stepped outside, Shadow Ignited paused, staring at the Coliseum - or, more specifically, staring at the smoke that was billowing out of it on one side.

 

It seemed that the final battle had begun after all.

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

As he followed JiMing through the halls of the Rebellion headquarters in BZ-Metru, Voltex could not help but feel a little restless and frustrated, itching to be helping with the battle at the Coliseum where their allies were waging one final battle against the forces of the White Council.

 

“Look, JiMing,” he started. “Whatever this is… surely it could’ve waited? Until after the battle?”

 

“No,” the Ta-Matoran replied. “We’re almost there.”

 

Sighing, Voltex fell silent as they rounded another corner - what turned out to be the last, as JiMing immediately stopped in front of the large black door that blocked their way. The Ta-Matoran turned to Voltex with a grin on his face, gesturing to the door.

 

“It’s a door,” Voltex said flatly. “How wonderful.”

 

“It’s what’s behind the door,” JiMing whispered, quivering with excitement. “You know, we don’t actually have the forces to take on the White Council - not even with the reinforcements you brought from the Red Star, not that there were actually very many. But with what’s behind this door… we’ll win.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you and I are each about to become a walking army,” JiMing answered, a grin threatening to consume his entire face as he turned and pressed his palm to the door. “Just watch, and I’ll explain everything.”

 

The black door slowly raised into the ceiling, revealing an empty room with what looked like two hatches in the floor. Disappointed, Voltex followed JiMing inside; the Ta-Matoran immediately pulled out a tablet and began to rapidly input commands, raising a finger to shush the Ba-Matoran before he could open his mouth to speak.

 

Then the hatches both opened.

 

“Watch this,” JiMing breathed.

 

Voltex stared as two platforms rose from the floor… and standing atop each platform was a suit of armor. The one on the right was almost all a brilliant shade of metallic violet, with silver highlights on the shoulders, arms, thighs and helmet. It was sleek, as though to emphasize maneuverability and speed. The one on the left was more bulky, like a tank; a gatling gun was immediately visible, propped up on its right shoulder, and what appeared to be machine guns stuck out of the arms. The left suit was a dark red with orange highlights.

 

“I… don’t understand,” he said after a moment.

 

JiMing turned to him with a grin, gesturing first to the purple armor and then to the red suit. “This is the Iron Voltex and Phoenix Zero armor, Voltex. Remember the Repulsor Arm?”

 

The Ba-Matoran absently grabbed his right arm, tracing along where the Repulsor Arm had once been connected. “Yeah.”

 

“That was just one part of an extremely early stage prototype design… and this is the final product,” JiMing explained. “Two suits of highly advanced armor - one for you, one for me. Lightweight… well, yours is, at any rate. Yours was designed to help you move around quickly in battle; I sacrificed that maneuverability with the Phoenix Zero armor in order to give it more raw firepower.”

 

“That’s amazing,” Voltex breathed, stepping forward and feeling one of the arms of the Iron Voltex suit. “Can it fly? I was able to kind of propel myself before.”

 

“Heck yeah, they can,” JiMing answered, crossing his arms and grinning smugly. “So what do you say?”

 

“I think…” Voltex said, smirking, “that I’m going to kill White One.”

 

---[TAKA NUVIA]---

 

Down below, everything was chaos. Taka Nuvia could barely make out the differences between the White Council forces and the Rebellion armies as they fought from where she stood atop the stands, coordinating with Ehks down below to organize their forces as much as possible. It had been obvious from the start that they were outnumbered; they did not have much time.

 

“You’re worried,” ToaD said, smirking as he stepped up beside her. “You worry too much.”

 

“And you worry too little,” she retorted. “We’re outnumbered and we haven’t made nearly as much ground as we need to - and the White Council have yet to show their faces.”

 

“Don’t worry - that’s why we’re up here,” Elittra said, hopping over to her other side. “In case they need backup.”

 

Taka Nuvia glanced at the group gathered with her - aside from herself, Elittra and ToaD, several others were present; Vinylstep, Kante, the Rider of Kikinalo, and Quisoves - leader of the Triplets, who had insisted that he would remain loyal to Ehks. Taka Nuvia was not so certain, although ToaD had easily managed to overpower her.

 

*kzzt*

 

Her eyes turned back to Kante, who was crouched with the radio in his hands; it crackled to life again, allowing them to hear the panicked voice of Ehks.

 

“They’re here! They’re out! Need backup now, White Council are here!”

 

“That’s our cue-” ToaD started to say.

 

Then a shockwave knocked the entire group off of their feet, as a white figure landed directly in the middle. The newcomer grabbed Kante by the mask and threw him down the stands; the Ko-Matoran collided with Vinylstep, sending the Matoran of Sonics tumbling down with him. Rider ducked underneath the figure’s next attack, only for a whip to wrap itself around his ankle and send him spinning away.

 

“Taka, you take this one!” ToaD yelled. “Elittra, stay with her! Quisoves, you’re with me! Let’s get the others and beat some White Turaga senseless!”

 

The leader of the Triplets dove forwards, narrowly avoiding another attack as Elittra charged forwards, throwing both of her electric boomerangs at their attacker. The figure dodged both and cracked their whip, nearly catching Taka Nuvia in the face as she lunged towards them with her sword. The newcomer easily parried her attacks, chuckling as she and Elittra paused, glancing at each other.

 

“How are you today?” they asked, giving a small bow. “I am White Six. You are Taka Nuvia and Elittra, I assume?”

 

Elittra dove forward, catching her boomerangs in mid-air while Taka Nuvia grabbed the whip and yanked on it, pulling White Six towards her. The White Turaga laughed as he released it and ducked underneath Elittra’s next attack, catching the boomerang as it flew over his head and then swinging it right back at her. The boomerang crackled with electricity as it flew through the air and embedded itself into Elittra’s chest. The Vo-Matoran collapsed as White Six turned to Taka Nuvia, shrugging.

 

“Oh well.”

 

In the blink of an eye he lunged forward, roundhouse kicking her in the head and knocking her down the stands. She held in a cry as she landed, her shoulder dislocating on impact. She stood to her feet and glanced up at White Six, who stood tall, whip in his hands once more. As he jumped down after her, Taka Nuvia stumbled back and tripped over the next row of seats, falling over the rails and into the arena down below.

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

The Onu-Matoran frowned as he forced his way through the crowds, slicing down Rebellion and White Council soldiers alike as he searched for White Seven, whom he had been separated with almost as soon as they had joined the battle.

 

What was he supposed to do? Killing his only friends was not really an option… was it?

 

He flashed back to what White One had told him before they left the meeting to join the battle:

 

---

 

“You there! Tavahka.”

 

“Yes sir?” he asked, stepping forward.

 

“You killed White Twelve on White Seven’s orders,” White One said, his eyes glinting beneath his helmet. “That is very good. We could use more soldiers like you… Matoran willing to kill the moment we tell them too. Not even Quisoves would act so quickly. You and Shadowhawk alone have proven yourselves worthy in that regard.”

 

“Thank you sir.”

 

The White Turaga sat back in his chair, nodding. “But… I do not trust you yet, Tavahka.”

 

He gulped, hoping that White One had not noticed, even though it was obvious that the leader of the White Council had. “Is there… what can I do?”

 

White One leaned forward. “Go down there with White Seven. Kill every last one of them. You have proven yourself capable of killing us… I want you to prove yourself capable of killing them. I don’t care who your friends might be, Tavahka - you are loyal to us. You have ALWAYS been loyal to us, ever since you took down Operation Rainfall. Now, you shall finally prove it.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

---

 

He shook his head to clear it just as someone crashed into him; Portalfig shoved them away. The figure turned to face him and he recognized RG. The electric blue Matoran frowned, staring at him.

 

“Is that you-”

 

Portalfig smashed the pommel of his sword into RG’s head, cutting him off. As RG’s body hit the ground, the battle momentarily cleared in front of him, and Portalfig finally saw White Seven, engaged in a furious duel against Letagi and - was that Blade?

 

He watched as White Seven was knocked back from an attack by Letagi, and Blade immediately seized the advantage.

 

No, Portalfig thought. You can’t! I won’t let you!

 

“NO!” he shouted, tearing through the battle towards them. “DON’T KILL HIM!”

 

He stumbled past the last few Matoran in his way and shoved Letagi aside, swinging his sword at Blade. Unprepared, the Vo-Matoran did not react in time; she cried out as Portalfig’s sword cut into her thigh, collapsing to the ground. White Seven took the opportunity to recover as Portalfig deflected Letagi’s next attack, forcing the Bo-Matoran back towards the walls wrapped around the arena.

 

“What are you doing?!” Letagi shouted furiously. “I thought you were on our side!”

 

“I’ve always been loyal to them,” Portalfig responded, repeating White One’s words. “I must serve them.”

 

With a cry, Letagi ducked around him and shouldered the Onu-Matoran back; Portalfig dropped his sword as he landed with a groan, but was spared having to avoid another attack as White Seven grabbed a shield lying on the ground and slammed it into Letagi’s head as he approached, smacking the Bo-Matoran into the protodermis wall. The White Turaga helped Portalfig to his feet, handing him his sword, as Letagi slumped to the ground beside Blade.

 

“It is your turn now,” White Seven said, nodding towards the two Rebellion members. “Kill them. Prove that you are worthy.”

 

With a grim nod, Portalfig adjusted his grip on the sword and stepped forward. Letagi glanced up at him and sighed.

 

“So this is it, Portal? Just like that? You’re done?”

 

“I’m not Portal,” he said, glancing back at White Seven, who laughed.

 

“Oh, Portalfig, you have much to learn,” the White Turaga said, crossing his arms and still laughing. “We have known about your little ruse since the very beginning, White One and I. Why did we allow you to live? Curiosity, I suppose. How far would you go to keep your secret? Quite far, it seems. So far that you have become loyal to us instead of loyal to them. Kill them.”

 

“Kill every last one of them!” White One’s words echoed.

 

He had to follow the orders. White One was not to be disobeyed.

 

“Portal, please,” Letagi said weakly, trying and failing to stand. “Remember who you were fighting for. You were fighting for freedom… for your friends! The White Council… they’ve torn down everything! Remember him.”

 

“White One?” Portalfig asked, confused.

 

“No,” Letagi said slowly, shaking his head and raising a trembling hand to point up at something behind them. “Remember him.”

 

Slowly, as if walking through sludge, Portalfig turned around and glanced at the sky - there, hovering six feet off the ground, was a Matoran in a gleaming purple and silver suit of armor.

 

Voltex.

 

“Hey there, Portal,” the Ba-Matoran said nonchalantly. “Couldn’t help but notice that you’re fighting for the wrong side here. The White Council are our enemies, Portalfig. Remember that. You’re not undercover anymore. Kill White Seven and help us win this.”

 

The faceplate of Voltex’s helmet flipped back into place and the Ba-Matoran rocketed into the sky, speeding towards the top of the Coliseum.

 

Portalfig shook his head, clearing his mind of the fog that had drifted over it. He stood still, thinking.

 

Voltex was right.

 

Letting out a battlecry, he lunged forward, shouldering White Seven and causing the White Turaga to stumble backwards, scrambling for a weapon he did not have. White Seven reached out, opening his mouth to speak - Portalfig swung the sword and sliced off his head, killing White Seven instantly.

 

“Yeah! Nice!”

 

Portalfig turned, panting, to see RG standing a few feet away with a huge grin on his face. The electric blue Su-Matoran clapped his hands together.

 

“That was totally wicked!” he shouted. “You were all like-”

 

He abruptly fell silent as a blade suddenly emerged from his throat; RG’s eyes went wide, panicking as he convulsed, choking on both the blade and his own blood. The blade vanished and RG was shoved to the ground, revealing Shadowhawk, who calmly wiped the blood off of his knife, glaring at Portalfig.

 

“So I guess you’re not as loyal as I am after all,” Shadowhawk said, shrugging. “That’s too bad. But then, I guess there can only be one.”

 

The Shadow Matoran stalked forward, stopping with a look of surprise on his face as another armored figure landed between them with a clank. The Matoran reached up and took off their helmet, tossing it aside.

 

“Well, well, well,” JiMing said, as two energy cannons activated on his shoulders. “Goodbye Shadowhawk.”

 

Both energy blasts hit Shadowhawk in the chest, smashing him backwards and right through the wall, where he vanished instantly. JiMing turned to Portalfig with a small smile as a minigun flipped onto his shoulder.

 

“Duck.”

 

The Onu-Matoran did as ordered, turning as he did so just in time to watch as a storm of bullets literally tore White Three apart, ripping the White Turaga into pieces. As the few recognizable bits of White Three fell to the ground, JiMing spoke again.

 

“Let me handle the Dread units - get everyone else to focus on the non-mechanical soldiers.”

 

Portalfig nodded as the Ta-Matoran flew off, blazing through the Dread units like they were butter.

 

---[AGENT 64]---

 

“Where are you taking me?!” White Four snapped, struggling in her grip.

 

“To the top of the Coliseum,” she replied, tightening her grip on him. “White One’s orders. Sorry if my behaviour offends you, but you weren’t listening.”

 

“I was just about to kill that insolent Ga-Matoran Ghidora!” White Four replied. “You could have at least let me finish first!”

 

She ignored him as they stepped into the elevator and it began to rise, pulling out her tablet.

 

[AGENT 64 TO CONTROL]

[iNBOUND TO WHITE ONE AND VOLTEX WITH WHITE FOUR IN TOW. WILL CONTACT YOU ONCE IT IS COMPLETED. REQUESTING FURTHER DETAILS OF PLANS AFTERWARD.]

 

She received a response seconds later.

 

[CONTROL TO AGENT 64]

[EXCELLENT WORK. REQUEST DENIED - CONTINUE AS DISCUSSED. ALL SHALL BE MADE CLEAR.]

 

Frowning, she put the tablet away before White Four could notice it, fighting the suspicion pricking at her.

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

Portalfig trailed after JiMing through the battle, knocking aside White Council soldiers and distracting them long enough for the Rebellion armies to kill them. He watched as Chro, Zakaro and the one armed Ehks took down White Eleven, and stumbled upon Taka Nuvia, JMJ, and Kante standing over the dead body of White Two.

 

“LOOK OUT!”

 

He jumped out of the way just in time as White Five flew through the air, impaling his sword in the ground where he had been standing just a second before. Without warning, ToaD pushed him aside and dove at the White Turaga, shoving White Five away. Xaeraz leaped into view and tackled the White Turaga, wrapping his arms around his opponent’s neck; White Five tried to throw him off, but thinking quickly, Portalfig swung his sword and sliced his knee. White Five cried out as Xaeraz tightened his grip, until ToaD stepped forward and drove his knife up through White Five’s chin. Xaeraz jumped off as White Five collapsed, blood dribbling down from his chin.

 

“Nice work,” ToaD said, glancing to Xaeraz. “Let’s go.”

 

Both Matoran dove back into the battle, leaving Portalfig alone with White Five’s corpse. He remained there for several seconds, watching Valendale, TBK, Voxumo, Unit and Chro battling White Council soldiers from atop a mountain of Dread units.

 

His attention was caught by the sound of someone collapsing behind him - Portalfig turned to see Cyrix sprawled on the ground. A second later, Aiwendil joined him; and then White Six came into view, knocking Ghidora aside and bashing Pohatu over the head. With a determined cry, Underscore lunged towards White Six before dodging aside at the last second, barely avoiding his whip. Portalfig jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder, relaxing when he recognized the Av-Matoran Smoke Monster.

 

They joined Underscore and charged at White Six; Underscore grabbed onto White Six’s whip and yanked it out of the White Turaga’s grip, while Portalfig dove forward and jabbed his sword into the White Turaga’s stomach.

 

“No,” White Six groaned, falling to his knees. “I cannot - the White Council can’t….”

 

He said no more as Smoke Monster snapped his neck. Portalfig let go of the sword, leaving it in the White Turaga’s stomach as he collapsed. The Onu-Matoran glanced first to Underscore and then to Smoke Monster.

 

“We’re almost there,” he murmured. “Just two more to go.”

 

“Agent 64 stole White Four awhile ago, stopped him from killing Ghidora,” Underscore replied. “They retreated into the Coliseum… I think they’re going up. Up to White One.”

 

Portalfig nodded, glancing up at the top of the tower. “So did Voltex.”

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

He cut off his thrusters several feet above the small circular platform at the top of the Coliseum, allowing gravity to drop him onto it with a clank. White One was already there, his eyes gleaming from inside his helmet as they both stood still, staring at each other.

 

It was White One who broke the silence.

 

“Here we are,” he said softly. “Two leaders, standing above all those who are beneath us. Welcome, Voltex - I’ve been looking forward to this little showdown of ours for a very long time.”


To Be Continued.

 

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---[TAKA NUVIA]--

 

Taka Nuvia stood in a rough circle with the other leaders of the Rebellion next to the mountain of destroyed Dread units. The forces of the Rebellion - and those that were left of the White Council, who had surrendered - were currently mingling around the arena while the leaders decided what to do.

 

“Alright, let’s go over it again, just to be clear,” Fighty said, glancing around the circle. “Go over the list again. You said White Two was dead?”

 

“Yes,” she answered. “Kante, JMJ and I took him down.”

 

“And to think I didn’t think you had it in you,” ToaD chuckled, juggling three of his knives. “Even you can get bloodthirsty and violent when you need to, eh?”

 

She decided not to dignify what he had said with a response. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Fighty coughed and nodded. “Right then… White Three?”

 

“All me,” JiMing replied, his armor clanking as he stepped forward. “You were right, Fighty - this armor is a total beast. You guys were losing before I showed up and then suddenly boom, White Three is in pieces, Shadowhawk’s dead, and I’m tearing through Vahki like nobody’s business!”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Xaeraz growled, pushing the Ta-Matoran back and glaring over to Fighty. “Let’s move it on. Keep going.”

 

Fighty shrugged. “Very well. White Five?”

 

Xaeraz grunted. “That was me.”

 

“Not just you,” ToaD snapped. “I was there as well. And you might not want to admit it, but Portalfig helped out as well. Just a little bit though - it was mostly you and me.”

 

“I stabbed him,” Portalfig said quietly.

 

ToaD ignored him as he continued on: “and by mostly you and me, of course, I mean mostly me.”

 

“You and me, we fight right now,” Xaeraz said, stepping forward threateningly. “Let’s see who’s better.”

 

“I’m already better,” ToaD replied. “I killed White Eight all by myself. JiMing got to see that little piece of magic.”

 

“Technically, you didn’t kill White Eight,” Ehks pointed out. “I did - on the Red Star.”

 

“Let’s get back on topic,” Taka Nuvia interrupted, fed up. “Fighty, continue on.”

 

The silver armored Matoran sighed, nodding in agreement. “White Six was the last one to be killed, is that correct?”

 

“Yeah,” Portalfig answered. “Smoke Monster snapped his neck like it was a twig - kind of brutal, actually, but it worked. It didn’t take long for what was left of their forces to surrender after that… what else are you going to do when every single one of your leaders is dead?”

 

“And White Seven?”

 

“Dead as well,” the Onu-Matoran said shortly.

 

“Right,” Fighty said, continuing, “and we know that White Eight, White Nine, White Ten, and White Twelve all perished on the Red Star, so they’re dead as well. That just leaves White One, White Four, and White Eleven.”

 

“I helped kill White Eleven as well,” Ehks pointed out. “So that just leaves White One and White Four.”

 

“Agent 64 took White Four into the Coliseum during the battle,” Portalfig responded. “Saved Ghidora’s life in the process, but that was probably an accident. I think they’re both going up to the top.”

 

Taka Nuvia glanced up to the top of the Coliseum - or rather, as high as she could before clouds obscured the view. She frowned. “Voltex went up there to kill White One… what’s taking him so long?”

 

“If Voltex was going to win that fight, he would have won by now,” Xaeraz said. “Something’s gone wrong.”

 

---[AGENT 64]---

 

They were halfway down the hallway between the elevators going back down and the elevators to the top when another message from Control came through.

 

[CONTROL TO ALL AGENTS]

[GET INTO POSITIONS. AGENTS 4 AND 43 SHALL LEAD THE CHARGE. AGENTS 21 AND 89, MAKE SURE THAT YOU ARE READY FOR OUR ARRIVAL. AGENT 13 SHALL OVERSEE THE ATTACK. TAKE CARE TO AVOID THE SHADOW.]

 

Narrowing her eyes, Agent 64 froze, staring at the broadcast.

 

Something was not right.

 

Why had she not been mentioned? Why had she not been notified of what this was?

 

“Are you coming?” White Four snapped. “We must hurry!”

 

She slowly glanced up at White Four, dropping her tablet to the floor. It cracked upon impact as she drew her sniper rifle and, in the blink of an eye, had it aimed and ready to fire right at White Four’s head. The White Turaga backed away, holding his hands up in a surrendering position.

 

“What are you doing?!” he spluttered. “Betrayal!”

 

“Sorry,” she said, not sorry at all. “There’s been a change of plans.”

 

BANG.

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

He warily eyed the pure white form of White One, heavily armored with a cape wrapped around his shoulders - a cape that, a split second later, was fluttering away through the air. White One held up his hands, staring at them intently.

 

“You know,” he said casually, “I did consider having a weapon that I could carry around, you know, to intimidate others. Like the rest of the White Council. But then I thought… I can be intimidating in other ways. You see, when Ehks died, and Shadowhawk was placed in control of BZ-Koro… I examined his blueprints. I took the ideas of him, JiMing, Fighty; and I combined them all into something better… and then I advanced it.”

 

That was when his right hand shifted, splitting apart and rapidly reforming itself into an open cylinder.

 

“This functions similarly to that little arm blaster you used to have before I ripped it out of you,” White One mused. “It fires beams of pure light - beams that will slice through that suit of armor like butter. Would you like to try?”

 

Voltex blasted himself to the side just in time to avoid the attack; he shut his eyes against the blinding beam and charged forward, punching White One in the side of the head. The White Turaga’s helmet was dented as he stumbled back, his left hand transforming into a cannon as well and firing off another beam of light. Voltex countered it with a blast of his own, spinning away from the second blast fired at him. He blasted into the air and fired two mini rockets out of his shoulder; White One destroyed them both with ease, and the explosions knocked Voltex out of the air, sending him spiralling back to the platform. He stumbled as he landed, tumbling straight into the path of a larger beam that sliced through the left side of his torso armor, missing his real body by an inch.

 

“Stop trying to hit me!” White One hissed. “I want you to hit me!”

 

Remaining silent, Voltex charged forward and tried to punch the White Turaga but missed, spinning with his momentum - White One caught him, holding him in place and taking aim at his left arm, cannon glowing. Acting on instinct, Voltex cut off the connection to the left arm of the suit, removing his arm a split second before the left arm of the suit was incinerated. He quickly threw a left hook at White One’s head, cursing as pain flared up his arm. White One, having not expected the strike, missed his next attack; however, the punch that hit Voltex next was so hard that his helmet flew off, skidding across the platform and halting against one of the three spires rising higher into the sky. Voltex himself was knocked to the ground.

 

“Even with your little suit of hero armor, you cannot defeat me,” White One declared from behind him as Voltex stood to his feet.

 

Voltex whirled around, aiming his repulsion blaster - only to cry out as a chain of electricity slammed into him, coursing through the armor and his systems. After several seconds, White One tossed the device away as Voltex collapsed next to his helmet, unable to do anything except stare up at his worst enemy.

 

White One chuckled, a sinister glint in his eyes. “You know, Voltex… I’ve been looking forward to this showdown of ours for awhile. But the conversation we’re about to have… for that, I have been waiting an eternity.”

 

Voltex tried to speak, but failed. White One crouched in front of him.

 

“Haven’t you ever wondered, Voltex?” he asked softly. “Why I take such an interest in you? There are far more worthy Matoran out there to torture, are there not? Why would I torture Xaeraz into insanity but leave you only scarred? Why would I try to brainwash Portalfig but leave you free? But then, there is another question - how on earth am I so adept at brainwashing at all?”

 

Still paralyzed, Voltex flashed back to what Ehks had said after crashing the Red Star:

 

“White One wants to break you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You… you can’t let that happen,” he continued. “I… remember things. Things that I’d forgotten, that I’d pushed so far back in my mind I didn’t even know they existed anymore. Whatever comes, Tex… just don’t let him break you.”

 

“You see, to everyone else, I would appear to be a charismatic leader,” White One explained. “An evil one, yes - and a tyrant. But still, charismatic. The type of being that you just can’t help but follow until the bitter end. Alas… if only that were true.

 

I have no doubt that I have become charismatic to a certain degree - being a leader for long enough shall do that. But I am no true leader. I brainwash everyone - every single being in this universe. I do it with my voice - a special device, one I thought was unique, designed specifically to influence those around me. The longer they stay with me, and the harder I try… the more they fall under my control. It works on everyone.”

 

Here, White One grabbed Voltex by the chin, looking him in the eyes. “Everyone except you, Voltex.”

 

White One released his grip, standing up and pacing in front of Voltex as he continued to speak.

 

“You, your friends, your allies… all those who are beneath you, and beneath me, have forgotten one very important fact,” White One said, pausing and gazing down at him. “It is that beings of light will always be inherently good; and beings of shadow, inversely, are invariably evil… operating under their own agendas. Such is the way that they are made; they do not get to choose like the rest of us. Do you know just how long it took me to get the White Council under my control? How many months - how many years - that I spent, before I could begin enacting my grand plan? And still I did not pay enough attention to Ehks….”

 

Fighting against the paralysis, Voltex managed to croak, “but… you’re... light as well….”

 

“Oh?” White One responded, his eyes glinting. “Am I really?!”

 

Slowly, the leader of the White Council reached to a pure white device attached to his hip and ripped it off, leaving a trail of blood where it had been. As soon as the device had been removed, White One’s form shimmered as the white faded away, replaced by black and purple. White One laughed sinisterly, sending a chill up Voltex’s back.

 

“Voltex, have you not wondered?” he asked. “Wondered why you are the only one that my device cannot control? Have you ever wondered why, when I brainwash Ehks and Portalfig, you can so easily turn them back? Did you never stop to ask yourself why they all insist on following you even when you don’t want to be followed? Even though they must believe that your mind is in shambles? Have you ever wondered just how you came to be?”

 

Here, White One crouched before Voltex, placing both hands on the sides of his helmet as he whispered his next words.

 

“Have you ever wondered why, when you meet someone, they always compare you… to me?”

 

The leader of the White Council stood once more, pulling his helmet off and tossing it over the side of the platform to reveal his silver Kanohi Mask, and his true identity.

 

A silver Volitak.

 

“I am you,” White One whispered. “And you… are me.”

 

“No,” Voltex said weakly. “It’s… not true….”

 

White One laughed darkly. “Oh, it’s true alright. Does the name ‘iBrow’ ring a bell anywhere in that mind of yours?”

 

The name bounced off the walls of Voltex’s mind. The name seemed to ring in his ears, resonating with him. His body seemed to latch onto the name, claiming it as his own. White One, noting the conflicted look on his face, chuckled again in satisfaction.

 

“My name is iBrow,” White One said. “It is your name as well… you are the White One from another universe, Voltex. In your universe, you did not face opposition until you had nearly taken complete control - but that opposition was enough to bring you to your knees. Your last, desperate bid to keep yourself in power killed every single living thing left in your universe. You were the only survivor.”

 

Voltex flinched as the images began to assault his mind, flashing into existence as White One spoke. Memories of an entire lifetime, stolen from him and locked away; locked away in a place that only White One could open them.

 

---

 

He remembered standing over the corpse of Ehks, who had betrayed them and led the pitiful resistance right to the Coliseum in a gambit to halt the White Council in their quest for power. He saw Blade and Portalfig back to back, battling against an endless horde of Vahki. He saw Xaeraz and Burnmad, turned to mindless slaves of the Council. He remembered duelling Chro and JMJ in the heart of the Coliseum, the last two members of the resistance still standing. He remembered mocking them, activating the weapon, and - then nothing.

 

Nothing was left. Everything was gone.

 

Everyone was dead.

 

Everyone but him.

 

---

 

“You travelled through dimensions to this universe, where you found me twenty-six years ago,” White One continued. “You tried to convince me not to follow through with my plan… telling me that I was making a mistake. That I would kill everyone. That having all that power was never worth it….”

 

Panting, chest heaving, Voltex’s gaze flickered up to meet the eyes of White One, who smirked.

 

“I beat you over the head before you could react. I went to Nynrah, and I had all of your memories blocked off. Plucked right out of your mind - but left so that, when it was convenient, I could give them all back. I named you Voltex and sent you off - and then I watched you, wondering what you would do.”

 

White One paused, sighing, before continuing. “I had hoped that you would become my partner, my equal - instead, you became my worst enemy. But I admit, it has been fun. Torturing you. Inflicting pain upon you. Seeing how you react. I suppose I - or rather, we - are a little masochistic.”

 

Grimacing, Voltex shifted, the paralysis beginning to wear off. White One glared at him, not missing the movement.

 

“It appears our conversation is at its end,” the White Council leader said.

 

“That would be correct,” a new - and familiar - voice said, followed by a click. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m three seconds away from blowing your brains out.”

 

White One’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure we can discuss this, Agent 64.”

 

“Not happening.”

 

The leader of the White Council remained still for a second more before diving off the platform in the blink of an eye. Voltex watched as Agent 64 rushed to the edge to watch White One plunge towards his doom. After a few seconds, she turned to him and frowned.

 

“You look like you’ve gone through Karzahni and back,” she said.

 

“Thanks,” Voltex croaked, pushing the memories still assaulting him aside. “Help me up.”

 

“Who was that?” Agent 64 asked, pulling him to his feet and glaring at him sternly. “It sounded like White One….”

 

“I… I’m not ready right now,” Voltex said quietly, reaching down and grabbing his helmet, slipping it on to hide his face. “Later, maybe. Come on - let’s go tell them that White One is dead.”

 

“Congratulations,” she replied. “That’s all of them. You’ve won.”

 

---[sHADOW IGNITED]---

 

Shadow Ignited pushed her way through the crowds towards the leaders of the Rebellion as Voltex and Agent 64 descended from the sky. They landed right beside the mountain of destroyed Vahki Dread units, startling several of the Rebellion leaders with their arrival. Before the others could attack Agent 64, Voltex blocked her from view, shaking his head.

 

“She saved my life,” he said. “She stays alive.”

 

“Voltex!” the Ce-Matoran yelled, waving her arms. “Voltex, I need to speak with you! It’s urgent!”

 

“Hey,” ToaD said, turning to her with narrowed eyes. “Where were you during the battle?”

 

“I was coming here,” she snapped, pushing her way into the circle of leaders - Voltex, Agent 64, Fighty, Taka Nuvia, ToaD, Ehks, JiMing, and Xaeraz.

 

“Let her speak,” Fighty ordered, nodding to her. “What is it?”

 

“I-” she broke off as something caught her attention above and behind Fighty - at the top of the Dread units. “Look out!”

 

Agent 64 was the only one to catch her meaning, glancing behind her and then lunging forward, tackling Voltex to the ground as a blast of green and orange flew through the air where the Ba-Matoran had been standing, hitting Fighty right between the shoulders. Before the creator of Bionifight even knew what had hit him, the rust rapidly spread, his neck crumbling away; his head was gone before it hit the ground.

 

“FIGHTY!” JiMing yelled, whirling to face the figure atop the Dread units. “HOW DARE YOU!”

 

“This is no time for taunts!” Agent 64 snapped, pulling a stunned Voltex to his feet. “We need to run!”

 

“There will be no running now.”

 

The new voice echoed throughout the arena, causing every single being gathered within the arena to freeze where they stood. Slowly, hesitantly, they all turned to face the mountain of Dread units as Matoran after Matoran deactivated the cloaking devices that had been concealing them. Four Matoran jumped off of the pile, landing with a series of thuds before the group of leaders.

 

“I am known as Control,” the speaker continued, their mask obscured by a black helmet that distorted their voice. “To my left is Aeron, also known as Agent 4. On his left is Kayn, also known as Agent 43. And on my right… we call them the Shadow.”

 

The Shadow stepped forward, rust cannon still active.

 

Control clapped their hands together. “This is how it is going to work - those of you who wish to join us… well, the signal shall be given momentarily. Those of you who wish to surrender quietly… kneel before us. And those of you foolish enough to fight… well, you shall die. Permanently.”

 

Makuta Luroka, I call upon you, Shadow Ignited thought, backing away. Help us! Help us now! Please save us!

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

The Ba-Matoran pushed Agent 64 away, standing on his own as Control spoke on final time.

 

“Attack.”

 

“NO!”

 

Voltex cursed as a white form knocked him to the ground, before recognizing Kante. Too shocked to resist or react, he watched as Zakaro yanked the Ko-Matoran guard off of him and drew a pistol, firing a single shot between Kante’s eyes before tossing the Ko-Matoran’s body away. As those still willing to fight began to battle for their lives, Zakaro looked down at Voltex and grinned, shrugging apologetically.

 

“All is fair in war,” he said. “Sorry, but… I was never really on your side.”

 

Enraged, Voltex lunged forward, knocking Zakaro off of his feet and punching the other Matoran in the mask so hard that it fractured, pieces flying off. Zakaro slammed to the ground with a pained groan, but before Voltex could deliver the flying blow a small explosion blasted him away. He toppled over Shadow Ignited and glanced back over to see Unit helping Zakaro to his feet.

 

“Stay with me,” Shadow Ignited said, pulling him back. “I can get us out of here!”

 

“No! We’re not escaping!” Voltex yelled. “We’re fighting back!”

 

He had barely finished speaking before both he and Shadow Ignited were forced to duck underneath another blast of rust. Voltex pulled the Ce-Matoran back as soldier after soldier fell around them. They fell into a circle beside Portalfig and TBK, fighting off the forces of Control with the full knowledge that it was a lost cause. Voltex watched as Aiwendil was blasted apart by the Le-Matoran Aeron, and then watched Underscore get torn apart by Control while saving the lives of Quisoves and Cyrix.

 

“STOP!”

 

Voltex froze as JiMing flew through the air and skidded across the ground, his armor suit rusting and fragmenting. The Ta-Matoran tumbled to a stop at Voltex’s feet otherwise unharmed as Control stepped forward with the Shadow at their side, observing the small group of Matoran gathered together. Voltex quickly spared a glance around him - Portalfig, JiMing, Shadow Ignited, TBK, Xaeraz, JMJ, Vinylstep, Chro and Blade. Control stepped forward.

 

“Join us or die.”

 

“We’d rather die!” Xaeraz spat.

 

“You may do just that then,” Control said, stepping back. “Shadow… you may do your work.”

 

The Shadow stepped forwards as Shadow Ignited screamed; Voltex glanced over and stumbled back at the shadow hand emerging from her shoulder. Before he could escape, the hand swept over the group and pulled them away.

 

---

 

He was flung onto a street in Le-Metru, colliding with a road sign and crushing it under his armor. Voltex pushed himself back to his feet, rapidly taking in his surroundings.

 

“Long time no see, Voltex,” a Le-Matoran called from where he was leaning against a nearby building, looking exhausted. “It’s been awhile. Welcome to my… humble abode. Chambliss, help me inside. That was far too much energy to spend at once.”

 

“Of course, Lord Luroka,” a Ta-Matoran said calmly, putting the Le-Matoran’s arm around his shoulders. “Shall I fetch some tea?”

 

“That would… be nice, yes.”

 

Furious, Voltex glanced around rapidly, searching for the others. He saw Portalfig, Xaeraz and JMJ lying in the middle of the street, saw TBK sitting up amidst the wreckage of what used to be a small roadside store, and noticed both JiMing and Shadow Ignited slowly awakening a few feet away.

 

“Where are Chro and Blade?!” he cried. “Where’s Vinylstep?!”

 

“They obviously didn’t make it,” the Le-Matoran that Chambliss had called ‘Luroka’ yelled back. “I could only extract so many of you!”

 

Voltex sank to his knees, gazing at the remaining Matoran, shaking his head.

 

“Seven survivors?” he whispered. “Two random Matoran and seven soldiers… that’s all that made it out alive?”

 

“We’re it?” JiMing asked, having caught what he said. “Are you serious?”

 

Voltex ignored him, glancing at the Coliseum in the distance, before falling on his back and remaining there, staring aimlessly up in the sky.

 

The White Council had been destroyed… yet only nine Matoran had walked away.

 

Is this really the end?


To Be… Concluded??

 

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---[sHADOW IGNITED]---

 

They were gathered in an uneasy circle around Luroka’s makeshift throne - Luroka himself seated in the chair, Chambliss standing at his side, and then TBK, JMJ, JiMing and herself standing in various places. Xaeraz was currently pacing back and forth at the other end of the room as he spoke.

 

“I used a rust cannon on you,” he snapped, jabbing a finger in Luroka’s direction. “You’re supposed to be dead - and that weapon was one use only! So how come that - that thing has such an advanced version?!”

 

Luroka narrowed his eyes, clasping his hands together. “I am afraid I do not know where the Shadow might have gotten such a weapon.”

 

“Master Luroka has been busy recovering,” Chambliss added. “There has not been much time for interfering with the rest of the universe. He is still very weak. You should be grateful that he has forgiven you.”

 

“Grateful?” Xaeraz asked, scoffing. “No. Ever since the White Council took over this godforsaken city, my life has been one big mess after another. He helped them to make me go mad. I’ve had my brains blown out twice, and escaped the Red Star just as many times. And then, when it finally seems like we’ve won… some third party scumbag drops in and starts executing us like flies, and out of our entire army, seven escape!”

 

“We do not see your point,” Chambliss responded.

 

“My point?!” Xaeraz snarled, glaring at them. “There are seven of us! Seven left!”

 

“There might still be hope-” Shadow Ignited started to say, stepping forward.

 

“There is no hope!” Xaeraz spat, stalking to the exit and pausing just long enough to continue: “it’s only a matter of time.”

 

As the Fe-Matoran left the building, Shadow Ignited turned back to the rest of the group - JiMing frowned and turned away, sitting down at the table in the corner beside JMJ. TBK glanced up at her and sighed, turning to the window. She walked over, staring out at the street in silence before speaking.

 

“Any idea where Voltex and Portalfig went?”

 

“No idea,” TBK said softly, shaking his head. “Voltex and I… we’ve become good friends, but I died on BZ-Koro; Portalfig didn’t. Whatever is troubling Tex, I don’t think anyone but Portalfig could necessarily get it out of him; and even then, it might not be possible.”

 

“We have to fight back.”

 

“Maybe,” TBK replied, shrugging. “Or maybe… maybe it’s time we left. Gave up and left for good.”

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

For hours, the two sat upon the rooftop, staring at the Coliseum in the distance - smoke still billowing from a hole in the side of the tower. Numerous times, Portalfig half-heartedly attempted to start a conversation before immediately allowing it to die, unsure of what to say - or what to do. Voltex looked positively crushed, destroyed; the Ba-Matoran looked broken.

 

That was why it was so surprising when Voltex finally began to speak.

 

“White One said that he wanted to see me break,” he explained, his voice hoarse. “And when I reunited with Ehks… he told me that he had started remembering things. Details of plans within plans, things that didn’t quite add up. He wanted me to make sure that I wouldn’t be broken.”

 

“Are you?” Portalfig asked.

 

Voltex shrugged. “Maybe. It feels like I am.”

 

Portalfig nodded, sighing. “I think I can empathize a little bit.”

 

“I don’t think you can,” Voltex said, shrugging again. “White One and I… had a conversation. At the top of the Coliseum. What he said… what I remember now….”

 

The Ba-Matoran reached up, feeling at his neck before glancing over to Portalfig. “There’s something on my neck - or inside of it. I need you to find it… get rid of it.”

 

Confused, but not wanting Voltex to fall back into the eerie silence, Portalfig complied - he ignored the feeling of compulsion that had flooded through him, as he always did when Voltex asked him to do something. The Onu-Matoran leaned in, inspecting the Ba-Matoran’s neck closely before spotting something - a dull purple light, a pinprick on Voltex’s neck. Carefully, he reached up and plucked it off.

 

“What was that?” Voltex asked.

 

“Some sort of light,” he replied, crushing it between his fingers. “Why?”

 

“White One had a device on his neck that brainwashed anyone who listened to his voice,” Voltex explained, staring down at the street, refusing to meet Portalfig’s eyes. “He… I had one as well. I didn’t know until he told me.”

 

“Then it’s fine, isn’t it?”

 

“No.... no, it isn’t,” the Ba-Matoran muttered. “I’m… White One explained many things to me. Like why I can’t remember anything beyond the last twenty-six years. Or why I was always compared to him.”

 

“What did he say?” Portalfig asked.

 

“I’m the White One of another universe,” Voltex said bitterly, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I killed my universe when I could no longer control it, and then I came here - to stop him, or maybe to join him, I don’t know. There are too many new memories in my head, it’s all a blurry haze. But he wiped them from my mind, locked them up so that only he could give them back to me. He named me. And then he’s dead, and I think we’ve won… and now everyone is dead. Everyone but us.”

 

Portalfig glanced up at the darkening sky, taking a deep breath. “Whoever…. or whatever you used to be, Tex… you’re not that person anymore. You just led an army to stop the White Council. We’ve done good - but maybe… maybe we can do better.”

 

“What do you mean?” Voltex asked, glancing up at him. Relief was evident in his eyes.

 

“I mean…” Portalfig cleared his throat before continuing. “That organization - Control - has taken over Metru-Nui right now. The city is about to plunge right from one the hands of one tyrant and into another. But we don’t actually know that everyone else is dead. Maybe they’re just prisoners, or maybe they escaped. But there’s nine of us here in total - and nobody in their right mind would believe that nine Matoran have any chance of storming the Coliseum and winning.”

 

“What are you suggesting?”

 

“We do what nobody in their right mind would believe,” Portalfig whispered. “We do something so stupid that we might catch them off guard completely. We storm the Coliseum, and we avenge everyone that has been killed in this war. Every single one.”

 

A small smile flickered to life on Voltex’s face. “Revenge… redemption.”

 

“A final battle to end them all,” Portalfig continued, standing to his feet. “They say that the night is always darkest before the dawn, Voltex - and I think that means the dawn is coming. What do you say?”

 

“I say…” Voltex trailed off, standing as well, “that you should gather the others. We’re going to need a plan. If we’re going on a suicide mission, then I want to do some damage before I die.”

 

---[EHKS]---

 

He stumbled forward at the head of the ranks of those who had either surrendered or survived being beaten down. To his left, Ghidora was being helped along by Chro and Pohatu; to his right, he could see Smoke Monster and Letagi.

 

“Let’s hurry it up!” the Le-Matoran called Aeron barked. “Move it up! Get inside!”

 

Ehks glanced up at the Coliseum - years ago, he had been a prisoner within its walls, serving under White One as a member of the White Council. Now he would be a prisoner inside it again, although for a very different set of reasons. Once he stepped foot inside that tower, he would never come back out.

 

One last try then, he thought to himself, halting where he stood.

 

Around him and behind him, the remaining forces of the Rebellion stopped - as few as they were numbering only around sixty, Ehks tried not to let his hopelessness show as he shook his head, looking Aeron in the eye. The Le-Matoran glared at him for a moment before signalling to the Matoran that Ehks had known as Zakaro and Unit.

 

Zakaro and Unit… those were undoubtedly their real names. But nothing else had been real about them.

 

“There are two ways we do this,” Aeron announced, glaring at the pitifully small remainder of the Rebellion. “You either step foot inside willingly… or we drag your corpses!”

 

“You’ll have to kill us then, won’t you?” Ehks snapped, stepping forward. “We defeated the White Council - we certainly won’t be beaten by you!”

 

Aeron smirked. “An example, then.”

 

The two traitors launched forward, slamming into Ehks and knocking him aside. The silver armored Av-Matoran stumbled into Valendale and turned just in time to watch Unit beat Chro to the ground. Voxumo shot forward in an attempt to defend the De-Matoran, but Unit ducked out of the way and fired an energy blast into Voxumo’s chest, blasting the Ko-Matoran back through the crowd. With Chro out of comission, Unit turned and slammed the back of his blaster into Pohatu’s head, stunning the Po-Matoran long enough for Zakaro to snatch Ghidora and begin dragging him away.

 

Someone cried out in protest; Ehks dove forward, tackling Unit and wrestling him to the ground. He furiously punched the Fa-Matoran, cracking his mask. Unit fought to free himself as Ehks rained down blow after blow, his vision fading into a blind red rage.

 

“That is enough.”

 

Ehks froze at the voice of Control, chilling him to the bone. With him distracted, Unit easily tossed him away and stood to his feet. Ehks remained where he was on the ground, staring at Control and the figure standing beside them - the Shadow. Control tsked, glancing around at their forces and the soon-to-be prisoners.

 

“I had believed that you were all smarter than this,” Control said slowly, turning towards Zakaro, who still had Ghidora locked in his grip. “Unfortunately, you have chosen to be foolish. I would have allowed you all to survive… that shall not be so. Each day, one of you shall perish. One of you shall be executed.”

 

Foreboding ran through Ehks and he stood to his feet slowly as Control turned to the Shadow.

 

“Kill the blue one,” Control ordered.

 

“NO!” Pohatu screamed, pushing his way to the front of the crowd.

 

Control turned towards the Po-Matoran. “And then… kill the brown one as well. Step away, Zakaro.”

 

Zakaro released Ghidora and backed away as the Shadow raised the already active rust cannon and fired before Ghidora even had a chance to move out of the way. The blast hit the Ga-Matoran in the chest and he groaned, collapsing to his knees. The Shadow fired once more; the second shot hit Ghidora right in the face, killing him instantly. As the remains of the Ga-Matoran fell to the ground, rapidly dissolving, the Shadow turned towards Pohatu.

 

No, Ehks thought.

 

Whirling around, Ehks dove towards Pohatu, shoving him back - and then he cried out himself as the blast skimmed through his left hip. He spun around, stumbling forward as his left leg fell away, pain consuming him, as the Shadow turned back towards Pohatu -

 

“NO!”

 

With as much willpower as he could muster, Ehks clumsily pushed forward with his remaining leg, diving in front of the second blast. He flew backwards at the impact as it hit his stomach and he groaned, falling right next to Chro. His mind dizzy and dazed, he grabbed Pohatu’s hand and pulled himself back to his feet, balancing on his remaining leg as the rust began to stop its spread.

 

“Interesting,” Control said. “The armor of the White Council proves resistant after all… that is no matter. The brown one can live - you shall die instead.”

 

Ehks shoved Pohatu away as the Shadow fired again; it hit him in his side and he fell to the ground, the soldiers of the Rebellion clearing around him as he began to push himself back up, his armor and enhancements working overtime to halt the rust in its tracks and reverse its effects. He met the horrified eyes of Taka Nuvia and Rider as the next blast hit him squarely in the back, knocking him back to the ground. With a groan, he slowly rolled over and sat up, trying to stand that way - he accepted Blade’s helping hand but had barely stood before the next blast hit him in the right shoulder. He stumbled back into Vinylstep and Valendale before pushing them away, hopping towards the Shadow - towards Control.

 

Control held up a hand and the Shadow remained still as they stepped forward. “You were a valuable puppet to White One, you know. You could do it again - serve me. Serve us… and I shall allow you to survive.”

 

“No,” Ehks said, shaking his head and adjusting his balance. “I am not a puppet. There are no strings on me.”

 

“Very well,” Control said, nodding to the Shadow. “It is your funeral.”

 

The Shadow fired again, hitting him in the chest; Ehks fell to the ground, landing on his stomach. Weakly, he started to push himself back up, meeting Blade’s eyes one last time. She stared back, eyes filled with shock and grief. He closed his own eyes, briefly allowing several memories to drift back to him.

 

---

 

“I’ve made my opinion clear. So go ahead - kill me.”

 

“Not yet,” White One said. “I hereby revoke your place on the White Council and exile you to the southern islands. You will be given a one-way teleport, and be forced to survive down there on your own forever. And should you find your way back to me… I shall make it the most painful experience you can imagine.”

 

“I hated being a number anyway,” Ehks said. “Someday, you’ll pay.”

 

“Everyone does eventually,” White One said, tossing a teleporter pad on the ground. “Go now, before I decide to kill you.”

 

With one final glance to White Seven, the former White Thirteen shrugged and stepped onto the teleporter pad, vanishing in a flash of light and appearing on the shores of a desolate landscape, water lapping at his ankles.

 

No more White Council, he thought. Alright… time to find my way back to civilization. It’s high time I did something to fix what I’ve done to the universe.

 

He glanced down and watched as his armor changed color from pure white to a rustic silver. Squaring his shoulders, he began his journey inland.

 

Of course, I’ll need an alias to go by….

 

---

 

He pushed White Seven away as they reappeared in what the Av-Matoran guessed was the Coliseum. Turaga White Two and White Five were also present, although the others seemed to be taking the day off… or they were busy with other things.

 

Scowling, he said, “what do you want?”

 

“We’ve found you at last,” White Two said, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “White One will be so pleased. You frustrated us with your little teleporter stunt, you know. We’ve been trying to get you to visit us ever since.”

 

“Yeah, I wonder why I never showed up,” the Av-Matoran muttered.

 

“We have an offer to make,” White Five said. “An offer to rejoin the White Council. One last chance to redeem yourself.”

 

“No way,” he spat.

 

“Thirteen, come on-” White Seven started.

 

“No,” the Av-Matoran said, whirling on his former friend. “No - my name is Xaron. Just as yours is Kar, and White Two is Rexus, and Five is Valkr. Enough with the numbers!”

 

“We have no names!” White Five snarled. “Not anymore! We are the White Council! One through twelve!”

 

“Really? This is what you’ve become?” Xaron asked, his voice laced with disappointment. “The twelve of us used to be such close friends in Karda-Nui before White One - whatever his real name is - came along. Don’t you remember when we journeyed on our own to Stelt? Or when we visited Voya-Nui in secret?”

 

“I remember nothing of those times,” White Five spat. “I was not the same Matoran that I am today.”

 

“No, I guess you’re not,” Xaron said, sighing. “Look at yourselves. We went on a few adventures, became stars to the others in Karda-Nui, and then when White One arrived, we left them and turned our backs on our universe for the sake of greed and power. We betrayed ourselves. Why can’t any of you seem to realize that?”

 

“Thirteen, please-” White Seven started.

 

“My name is XARON!” Xaron yelled, jabbing a finger at his former friend. “SAY IT!”

 

The three enhanced Av-Matoran glared at him; White Seven remained silent.

 

“Say my name,” he ordered quietly. “Do it.”

 

“Xaron,” White Seven whispered, turning away.

 

---

 

He stood in the center of the Red Star’s control room as White Seven stepped inside, flanked closely by White Ten. The latter was glaring at the former suspiciously, and Ehks - no, White Thirteen - shared his feelings. They had not been informed that White Seven would be visiting them.

 

“What is the issue down below?” he asked, doing his best to sound emotionless, holding his inexplicable contempt back.

 

“I wish to speak with you in private,” White Seven said, glancing behind him to White Ten. “Which means I want him to leave.”

 

“I have as much right to be here as you!” White Ten spat. “In fact, I have MORE right! You were not scheduled to be up here, White Seven. You must know that White One has put a watch on you. Your behaviour has grown increasingly suspicious.”

 

“Either he leaves, or I shall prove that my prowess in combat is greater than his,” White Seven said calmly, ignoring White Ten and keeping his attention on White Thirteen. “Have some sense, please. We both know that I could eviscerate him before he knew what was going on.”

 

“Very well,” White Thirteen said, cutting the enraged White Ten off. “White Ten, leave us. But… remain on alert. I may require your services.”

 

White Ten glared at him for a moment before nodding shortly and exiting the room. White Thirteen allowed himself a smirk; being in command of the Red Star had its perks, and ordering the insufferable member of the White Council around was one of them. After basking in his moment of victory, he returned his attention to White Seven and frowned.

 

“Speak now. What do you want?”

 

White Seven glanced at him, running his hand over the console nervously before speaking. “Do you ever… have any regrets? Or a feeling that maybe things aren’t right?”

 

“I had my doubts long ago,” White Thirteen said shortly. “I was exiled for them, mercifully allowed to live. In my foolishness, I joined those who sought to take us down… began developing a device for them to reach the Red Star without having to die. But then I was slain, and White One gave me one last chance to prove myself. So I did.”

 

“You didn’t truly intend to re-join us, though,” White Seven said, sounding determined. “You were hoping to infiltrate our ranks and take us down from the inside.”

 

“Perhaps,” White Thirteen replied, shrugging. “I do not really care what my motivations were. All I care about now is seeing our mission through. My opinions back then do not matter.”

 

“Except that they do,” White Seven said. “Look, Thirteen… Xaron. This isn’t you. He’s done something to you - something to your mind. Brainwashed you. Hidden your true thoughts, locked them away deep down inside. But somewhere in your head… they’re still there. The real Xaron is still there.”

 

“DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME!” White Thirteen bellowed, slamming his fist into the wall, shaking with fury and fear. “We are the White Council! We do not have names!”

 

“We did once,” White Seven said quietly, voice laced with disappointment.

 

“You betray us with those thoughts,” White Thirteen said, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down even as White Seven grew angrier. “I will give you one chance to set things right - one chance to redeem yourself.”

 

“I will not,” White Seven spat.

 

“Seven, come on-” White Thirteen started.

 

“No,” the Av-Matoran said, whirling on his former friend. “No - my name is Kar. Just as yours is Xaron. Enough with the numbers!”

 

“We have no names!” White Thirteen snarled. “I just said this! We are the White Council!”

 

“Really? This is what you’ve become?” White Seven asked, his voice laced with disappointment. “The twelve of us used to be such close friends in Karda-Nui before White One came along. Don’t you remember when we journeyed on our own to Stelt? Or when we visited Voya-Nui in secret? What happened to the rebellious member of the White Council who was truly good at heart?”

 

“I remember nothing of those times,” White Thirteen spat. “I was not the same Matoran that I am today.”

 

“No, I guess you’re not,” White Seven said, sighing. “Look at yourself. You turned away from the White Council, fought against us, fought to turn me back to the side of the light. You died and tried to infiltrate our ranks to take us down from the inside. You betrayed yourself. Why can’t you seem to realize that?”

 

“Seven, please-” White Thirteen started, the words driving through his mind and splintering the White Council’s ideals as if they were glass.

 

“My name is KAR!” White Seven yelled, jabbing a finger at his former friend. “SAY IT!”

 

The former traitor - he was a FORMER traitor, right? - remained silent, glaring at him. He could not allow it. He had to follow orders. White One was always correct… right?

 

“Say my name,” White Seven ordered quietly. “Do it.”

 

“I cannot,” White Thirteen whispered, turning away. “I… even if we were to turn against him… it is too late now. Return to your post, White Seven. I shall forgive your transgression and act as if it had never happened. Just… do not allow these thoughts to influence you again.”

 

White Seven was silent for a long time before replying, heaving a disappointed sigh. “Very well. As you wish.”

 

---

 

“I ran into Voltex earlier, had a bit of a chat,” Ehks said, looking over to Blade, who was the only other Matoran occupying the particular room they were in at the moment, sitting across the table from him. “I hear you’re both good friends, not too big on the White Council?”

 

“We’re friends, yeah...” Blade said guardedly. “The White Council is okay.”

 

Ehks laughed. “Don’t worry, you can speak the truth from me. The White Council and I have... well, our history isn’t too great. I’m not a very big fan.”

 

The Vo-Matoran seemed to relax more at that, replying: “Okay... then yeah, I don’t really like them. Something about them is... off.”

 

“Like the way they somehow took control of Metru-Nui in less than a week and nobody had a problem with it?” Ehks quipped.

 

“Yeah, something like that.”

 

---

 

He coughed weakly, giving her a small grin as his eyes opened again. “I… ran into Voltex earlier… had a bit of a chat. I hear you’re both good friends.”

 

Blade gave a small smile, catching the reference to their first ever conversation. “We’re friends, yeah. And you, Ehks… you were our friend as well.”

 

The final shot connected before Ehks could respond with anything more than a relieved smile.

 

Everything went dark. He knew peace at last.


TO BE CONTINUED.

 

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---[AGENT 64]---

 

She stepped into the room cautiously, glancing around with both disbelief and disgust at the rows of Matoran chained to the chairs, hunched over monitors broadcasting propaganda for Control straight into their minds. Control was referring to the technique as ‘farming’ - when not being farmed, the prisoners were left in what was left of the Deep to fend for themselves. The idea itself was infuriating to her - she had always valued independence.

 

Unfortunately, that was what had isolated her from Control’s plans right from the start. It was why she had not been informed of the real grand scheme.

 

It was why she had never been told about the Shadow - and all she had found in Control’s files was that the Shadow was -

 

“Ah… there you are.”

 

Her thoughts interrupted, Agent 64 whirled around at the voice of Control, helmeted as always. She kept her face impassive as Kayn entered the room behind Control, followed by the Shadow - who had their hand wrapped around the Bo-Matoran Letagi’s neck. Agent 64 blinked away the image that flashed into view.

 

It was never him.

 

“I heard that you and this Bo-Matoran struck up something of a bond while you were serving the White Council,” Control said, nodding to the Shadow. “So I figured that the first execution might as well be him. I wish for you to be present… I must know that you understand what disobedience means. You are too independent, Fishers.”

 

“That is not my name,” she snapped, scowling. “I am Agent 64 - that is the only name or title to which I belong.”

 

“No,” Control said. “You belong to the name that I say you belong to. And I have determined that Fishers is still your name whether you like or not. Am I clear?”

 

She remained silent and Control nodded in satisfaction. “Good.”

 

“Shall we kill him now then, sir?” Kayn asked.

 

“We shall.”

 

“You will not,” Agent 64 replied, stepping forward and ripping Letagi out of the Shadow’s grip, pushing him behind her.

 

Control sighed. “I had hoped we would avoid this. You were always my favorite agent, you know.”

 

“Don’t lie,” Agent 64 snapped. “You always favored Tekulo.”

 

Favored Tekulo?” Control asked, laughing. “No, no, you misunderstand. I am Tekulo.”

 

Still laughing, Control reached up and took off their helmet, tossing it aside. She glared as the face of Tekulo smirked at her, glancing to Kayn and then the Shadow before speaking again. “You always were too independent, operating upon your own agenda. And now I see why - you were always working for them. For the Rebellion.”

 

“I work for nobody,” Agent 64 said darkly. “I have no allegiance to anyone.”

 

“Then why save him?” Tekulo asked, gesturing to Letagi. “Why sacrifice your life to delay his demise?”

 

“Because he reminds me of someone I lost long ago,” she said quietly, “and because I shall not lose my life today.”

 

“Oh Fishers…” Tekulo sighed, chucking once again. “You have been manipulated from the start. It was on my orders that your friend was murdered… so that we could draw you in.”

 

No.

 

No, that was not true. It was not possible.

 

She shook her head, ignoring his words and pushing forward - just as she always had. “What’s your goal?”

 

Tekulo smiled. “Extermination.”

 

It happened in the blink of an eye - the second Tekulo had finished speaking, the Shadow suddenly lunged forwards. Agent 64 kicked them back and shoved Letagi towards the exit; the Bo-Matoran stumbled, pausing in the doorway and glancing back at her briefly.

 

“Why me?” he asked.

 

“Because I knew someone once, and they were a lot like you,” she said quickly. “Now go! Run, before it is too late!”

 

She turned back around and drew her ice blaster, firing it at Tekulo and knocking him into the nearest console, freezing him to the table. While the leader of Control struggled to free himself, Agent 64 dove to the side, tackling Kayn to the ground as a blast from the Shadow’s rust cannon flew past her.

 

“Not in here!” Tekulo screeched. “You’ll bring the whole place down!”

 

The Shadow jumped onto the table and ignored him as they fired again; Agent 64 pushed Kayn away as she rolled to the side to avoid the blast, throwing up a wall of ice to shield herself as she scrambled to her feet and kicked Kayn in the face as he tried to aim his energy cannon. She ripped the energy cannon out of his arms and fired, blasting half of the other Ko-Matoran’s face away; Kayn let out a strangled cry as he stumbled back, collapsing against the table. Another blast caught him in the chest and he shattered her wall of ice as he flew through it, landing in a crumpled heap at the door.

 

The rust blast missed her by millimeters and she dove over the table, sprinting towards the exit as Tekulo broke free and drew a sword, advancing upon her - Agent 64 activated her ice katana and swung, meeting the other Matoran’s blow with her own. Her katana shattered on impact and she kicked Tekulo in the chest, grabbing his sword and yanking it from his hands before quickly stabbing him in the stomach. As the leader of Control lurched back, Agent 64 backflipped away from another rust blast, pulling out a teleportation pad and tossing it across the room; as it landed and began to activate, she turned her attention to the Shadow.

 

Ice and shadow collided as she tackled her opponent, punching the Shadow in the face and knocking them to the floor. They fell across one of the tables, destroying multiple computer terminals as the brain-dead prisoners watched in silence. Agent 64 withdrew a needle, and jabbed it into the Shadow’s side before rolling off and sprinting away. She hopped over the table and withdrew a small detonator as she reached the teleportation pad - she stepped onto it as it began to activate with the tell-tale white glow -

 

“AUGH!”

 

-the white, green and orange blast burst through her chest, the barrel of the rust cannon jabbed into her back. She fell forward as the teleporter flashed, and then she stumbled forward onto a nearly deserted street, collapsing before two Matoran. She coughed, blindly reaching towards them as the detonator fell from her hand.

 

“Agent 64?” one asked, kneeling next to her - Voltex. “What the….”

 

The last thing she saw was the detonator as Voltex’s companion picked it up off the street.

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

“Agent 64?”

 

Beside him, Portalfig crouched down and picked up the device that the midnight blue Ko-Matoran had dropped. Voltex stared down as the last bits of Agent 64 dissolved away, scattering across the street in the breeze. Portalfig stepped up beside him, and the two remained where they were in stunned silence for a long moment before Portalfig spoke.

 

“She was… the best of the best. And she’s just… gone? Just like that? In the blink of an eye, without a word to spare?”

 

“The Shadow… Control…” Voltex trailed off, shaking his head. “They’re too much….”

 

“But you must have defeated them before,” Portalfig said, sounding confused. “I mean, you have to have, right? If you successfully took over the universe? So how did you-”

 

“Shut up!” Voltex snapped, shoving the Onu-Matoran aside and stumbling away, clutching at his head. “Shut up shut up shut up! I won’t! I won’t!”

 

“Voltex-”

 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

 

He collapsed to his hands and knees, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath, images crushing each other endlessly as they crawled around in his mind. He shut his eyes, trying to draw them out, only to instead be drawn in.

 

---

 

He stepped into the office of White One, feeling a curious sense of familiarity as he sat next to one of the other White Turaga - White Seven, perhaps - across the desk from White One. The leader of the Council acknowledged his arrival with a slight nod, remaining focused on the screen before him as he swiped through various security feeds from Ko-Metru. The three of them sat in silence for several minutes before White One finally shut the screen down and turned to them.

 

“I have called you both here today about the Conference,” he said. “Or, as we have been referring to it… Scenario Alpha. As you know, the first few invitations have already been sent out, for a conference taking place in three months. Once Xaeraz’s next attack occurs, we shall send out invitations for the so-called ‘new’ date later this month.”

 

“Of course, sir,” Voltex said. “It should go off without a hitch.”

 

“Except that something is wrong,” White One said darkly, glancing between the two of them before turning away, a screen lighting up on the wall behind him. “Take a look at this.”

 

Voltex and the two White Turaga watched as several security feeds played, one after the other. Either Voltex or White Seven was included in each of them, denying or disagreeing with various factors of what Voltex suspected was Scenario Alpha. His suspicions were confirmed when White One spoke again.

 

“The two of you have been rather… disagreeable towards this project in recent weeks,” White One said. “It has been difficult for me to maintain the project’s proper pace, to make sure that everyone and everything is placed correctly. Even still, I am not perfect - we will miss certain targets thanks to your meddling. This is your only chance to convince me that neither of you has done this on purpose… or else I shall be VERY unhappy indeed.”

 

“I… have not intended to do so, sir,” Voltex said slowly. “I will admit that it has been… difficult, in recent weeks. Some of these Matoran are my friends. Portalfig, for instance - and besides, did he not take down Operation Rainfall for you?”

 

“The Onu-Matoran is misguided regarding our true nature,” White One said, glowering. “I do not wish to risk his investigative skills being put towards revealing us for what we truly are.”

 

“What we truly are?” Voltex asked, a sense of foreboding rushing through him. “What… exactly… do you mean?”

 

“Think nothing of it,” White Seven said quickly, looking nervous. “I shall take full blame for this incident, White One. Voltex here has been acting on my command. I apologize.”

 

White One glared at the other White Turaga suspiciously, about to reply-

 

---

 

He laughed as Chro and JMJ entered the room. JMJ drew a sword, while Chro swung the scythe that had once belonged to Voxumo.

 

“Seriously?” he asked. “They sent the two of YOU to battle me? I feel insulted. I could have sworn that I was worth more.”

 

“Maybe you are worth wasting our leaders on… or maybe our leaders are worth enough to tear through your troops while we delay you,” Chro said. “Face it, White One. You’ve lost. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. Whether our revolution succeeds in this battle or not doesn’t matter; the universe knows that you can be beaten with enough time and effort. And that means someday, somehow, you will fall.”

 

“Are you so sure?” he whispered, turning to the console and pressing several keys. “And what if I had a way to just… end it? Kill you all? The ultimate weapon… the ultimate kill switch.”

 

“You’re bluffing,” Chro said.

 

“Am I?” he asked. “Let’s test that theory.”

 

He twisted the key, and gave a small smile as both of the other Matoran in the room choked for a split second before dropping dead with identical looks of shock. The leader of the White Council laughed at the sight before pulling up several security feeds from all over Metru-Nui.

 

There were bodies everywhere.

 

And then a new feeling began to blossom deep within, something that stunned him. Something that shocked him, driving him to his knees as he began to tremble.

 

He felt horror.

 

---

 

“Snap out of it!”

 

The force of the slap sent Voltex sprawling as the impact startled him back to his senses; the Fe-Matoran Xaeraz stood above him, hand raised for another attempt. The Matoran of Iron was glaring at him; Voltex could see the others - Luroka, Chambliss, Portalfig, TBK, JMJ, JiMing, and Shadow Ignited - all gathered behind Xaeraz.

 

“What?” he croaked.

 

“You’re not going mad again,” Xaeraz snapped, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to his feet, keeping a firm grip. “Not unless I get to go mad as well. We got those necklaces for being insane, remember? I don’t see them now! If I can’t be a bloodthirsty maniac, neither can you.”

 

“I can’t-”

 

“I don’t give a karz about whether you can or can’t!” Xaeraz roared, shaking him. “You will not! As loathe as I am to admit it, buddy, you are the leader! And you don’t get to just collapse in on yourself! I don’t know what’s wrong, and quite frankly, I don’t care. But get your act together. You’re the leader. It’s your responsibility to fight through it and, at the end of the day, still look somewhat normal to the rest of us.”

 

“I can’t,” Voltex whispered, backing away. “Not anymore.”

 

“Voltex,” TBK said, pushing Xaeraz aside and silencing the Fe-Matoran with a glare before putting his arm around Voltex’s shoulders and leading him away. “Remember that chat we had on BZ-Koro? Back when you were going mad? About how you were our leader whether you liked it or not?”

 

“You don’t understand-”

 

“Whatever your problem is, I don’t need to understand it,” TBK said firmly. “I know that you feel broken, Voltex. Maybe you are broken. But you can’t afford to give into it right now. Lead us on this final attack. This final suicidal charge. And if we survive… if we win… that’s when you can fall apart. When we don’t need you to win anymore. And if I’m still alive when that happens, I promise to help you pick up the pieces. Deal?”

 

The Ba-Matoran was silent for a long time before replying. “Deal.”

 

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” TBK asked.

 

Voltex turned to face the rest of the group. “We run in and kill as many of those freaks as possible.”

 

Xaeraz grinned. “Now that is a plan that I can get behind.”

 

---[TAKA NUVIA]---

 

“Taka? Is that you?”

 

The female Av-Matoran was awake in an instant, blinking her eyes as she glanced around her cell before her gaze landed on the Matoran of Plantlife staring at her from the other side of her cell. Frowning, she swung her legs off of her cot and stepped forward, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

“...Letagi?”

 

“Yeah,” the Bo-Matoran on the other side of the bars breathed, nodding and fumbling with the keys in his hands. “Hold on a second, gotta find the key that’ll open your cell.”

 

“How did you get out?” Taka Nuvia asked.

 

“It’s… complicated,” Letagi replied, his smile falling into a frown. “Control was going to execute me or something, but then… Agent 64 stepped in and saved me. She told me to run while she held them off… said something about me reminding her of another Matoran that she used to know.”

 

“Who?”

 

“No idea.”

 

Taka Nuvia sighed, shrugging. “Where is she now?”

 

“Probably dead,” Letagi said shortly, cursing quietly as he tried - and failed - to open the cell with a fourth key. “Control, Kayn, the Shadow… I don’t think anybody could survive against that third one, let alone Control and another agent at the same time. Not even Agent 64, as terrifying as she is in combat.”

 

Before Taka Nuvia could respond, the next key clicked as Letagi twisted it; the Bo-Matoran grinned as the cell door swung open, and Taka Nuvia gave him a grateful smile as she stepped out into the hall, glancing to her right and left.

 

“You’re the only one in this hall,” Letagi said. “I’m not certain where everyone else is, but… I’m really hoping most of them are stuck together.”

 

---

 

The two Matoran snuck through the halls for what felt like forever until they came across an area that Letagi had told Taka Nuvia was known as the Pit. Once the deepest, most impenetrable prison in Metru-Nui (and possibly the universe), the Bo-Matoran claimed that the Shadow had destroyed it days earlier.

 

“They aren’t anywhere else,” Letagi said, slowly pushing open the only door. “So they must be in here….”

 

“Ah, hello!”

 

Taka Nuvia froze, yanking Letagi back - only to see the former leader of the triplets, Quisoves Pugnat, grinning at her. Behind the Matoran of Gravity stood a tall robot with dark gray and bright red armor; and standing beside him was….

 

“...Pulse?” she asked.

 

“Yes, it is me,” the Su-Matoran replied, nodding.

 

“But Shadowhawk shot you,” she said, confused.

 

“I didn’t die, though,” Pulse responded. “Control recovered me from the ocean after the Rebellion left me, thinking I was dead. And they’ve had me imprisoned ever since… until Quisoves arrived with his hijacked Maxilos robot and freed me.”

 

She turned to the Ba-Matoran, frowning. “You… hijacked a robot?”

 

“Messed with his programming a bit, removed the protocols enslaving him to Control,” Quisoves answered, shrugging. “He’s basically free to do whatever he wants now.”

 

“Hey,” Letagi said, pushing his way into the conversation. “I uh, hate to break up this reunion, but… we don’t have much time left. Do you know where the rest are being held?”

 

“Of course,” Quisoves said. “We were headed there right now.”

 

“Then let’s go,” Taka Nuvia decided. “Once we gather the survivors… Control is in for one heck of a surprise.”


To Be Continued.

 

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So this is a little something I wrote back in October on a whim; it was never included in Extraction or Extermination because it didn't really fit into either of them, but as we all prepare ourselves for the final battle, I figured it might be nice to enjoy a quick little conversation between Sumiki and Xaeraz.

 

A QUICK SCENE

 

Knock-knock-knock.

 

The Fe-Matoran glanced up from the shelf of hats he had been organizing, looking at the clock and frowning slightly. Time always seemed to pass more quickly when he was dealing with hats, and today was no exception. They were, quite honestly, his favorite things in the universe (aside from perhaps the farm animals of which he dreamed).

 

Knock-knock-knock.

 

Sumiki leaned over to his desk and pushed the intercom button to contact his new assistant at the front desk.

 

“Tiribomba, is it Xaeraz knocking on my door?” the Fe-Matoran asked. “You did tell him that he could come in without knocking, didn’t you?”

 

Silence.

 

“Tiribomba?”

 

With no response coming, Sumiki sighed. How typical - of course Xaeraz had killed his assistant. Shaking his head in disappointment, Sumiki stepped over to the door and twisted the handle, pulling it open to reveal Xaeraz - another Fe-Matoran who looked as though he had been cobbled together from a junkyard. Xaeraz was number one on Metru-Nui’s most wanted; a well-known and easily recognized terrorist.

 

As the terrorist stepped into his office, Sumiki pointed at the bloodstain on his chest.

 

“You killed my assistant,” he said. “I told you not to do that. It’s starting to get expensive, you know - they believe the position is cursed when I tell them that I haven’t had an assistant survive longer than a month for a year.”

 

“Tell them to stop asking questions, then,” Xaeraz growled. “We already agreed that you could pretend you’re working for the White Council. Besides, I was angry. He got in my way.”

 

“I liked Tiribomba,” Sumiki chided.

 

“Everything about him was lame,” Xaeraz snapped.

 

“Nonsense! His name was delightful, and he was charmingly horrible at everything he did!” Sumiki said brightly. “And now you’ve gone and killed him, and I need a new assistant. I think Tiribomba might have been the last stupid Matoran left in this city. I’m going to have to bribe the next one.”

 

“Alternatively, you could just blackmail someone,” Xaeraz grunted. “Far more efficient… and you’d get a more intelligent Matoran for your efforts.”

 

“I like having stupid assistants,” Sumiki replied. “Then I get to admire just how foolish they are! It is a wonderful way to pass the time.”

 

“You really know how to make me regret this whole ‘partnership’ thing,” Xaeraz growled.

 

“Thank you!” Sumiki said, beaming. “Now, were you here about your failed attempt to blow up the Day Run tournament, or is this about you blowing up the Conference in a few months?”

END SCENE.

 

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And remember, CHAPTER 12 goes live in less than 12 HOURS!

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---[JIMING]---

JiMing trailed at the very back of the group as they entered the remains of the arena - it had been blasted apart, and was now nothing more than piles of rubble and ruin. Voltex and Xaeraz walked at the front, leading the group towards the Coliseum that towered over them; spread throughout the middle were Luroka, TBK, Chambliss, Shadow Ignited, Portalfig and JMJ.

“Now remember,” Voltex called as they reached the entrance. “This first entrance hall is the largest open area in the entire Coliseum - stay close to the walls and do your best to stay out of sight.”

JiMing nodded along with the others; he watched as Voltex took a deep breath, turning slowly back to the entrance.

“In we go,” Portalfig murmured.

Voltex shouldered open the entrance and the group rushed inside; JiMing lurched to a halt just inside the doorway as the rest of the group stopped without warning - and as he glanced around the entrance hall, JiMing noticed why.

“It was very foolish of you to come here,” said Control from where they stood in the center of the room. “Come a little closer, please - I insist.”

JiMing glanced back as the barrel of a gun was pressed up against his back - he recognized Zakaro, who shrugged and nudged him forward. The Ta-Matoran silently cursed as the group was ushered into the center of the hall as the forces of Control decloaked, revealing themselves. Surrounding them on the ground floor as well as up on the second level balcony, agents were huddled together with guns pointing right at them.

“By now, I’m sure you are assuming that you have walked into a trap,” Control said, taking off their helmet. “Your assumptions would be correct.”

“Tekulo?” Voltex asked, sounding resigned. “You’re Control?”

“I am,” Tekulo nodded easily. “And you are too trusting, Voltex.”

At Tekulo’s words, Luroka began to shake - JiMing shared a worried glance with Portalfig before the Makuta burst into a full-on maniacal laugh. Chambliss turned to Luroka and said something that JiMing could not hear - the Makuta’s laughter immediately broke off and a shadow hand erupted from his chest, seizing Chambliss and absorbing the Ta-Matoran in the blink of an eye. JiMing backed away at the same time as the others while Tekulo smiled.

“You see?” the leader of Control continued. “You are too trusting. Too confident that your allies are truly your own. And it has led you here - to your demise. Welcome to your execution.”

Makuta Luroka laughed. “I have been waiting so long for this… for the opportunity to destroy you all. When Control found me half-dead in a Matoran’s body… his offer was too good to refuse.”

“You lied to us,” Shadow Ignited spat.

“Indeed,” Luroka replied, nodding. “That is what I do.”

“That is enough talk,” Tekulo said. “It is over. You die now.”

That was when the far wall blew apart. Rubble rained down around them as every person in the room stumbled from the force of the explosion; agents tumbled from the second level down to the floor as the balcony as a towering robot stepped through the hole in the wall, the Cordak blaster on its shoulder reloading.

No, JiMing thought to himself. That’s impossible.

He watched in stunned amazement as he recognized the Matoran that were following the robot into the entrance hall. Taka Nuvia, Quisoves, Pohatu, Vinylstep....

An orange and white Matoran caught his eye.

“Pulse,” he whispered, grinning.

“We told you that you would not take us so easily!” Taka Nuvia yelled, casting her gaze around the room defiantly. “Here we are! Fight us now!”

“ATTACK!” Voltex yelled.

JiMing saw the Ba-Matoran dive for Tekulo as the forces of Control swarmed towards them; across the hall, Taka Nuvia and Quisoves led the charge of what appeared to be nearly seventy Matoran pouring into the room. JiMing turned towards Luroka, who smirked and battered him away. The Ta-Matoran cursed as he collapsed to the ground, pushing himself to his feet and activating his energy sword as the Coliseum shuddered around them. He stabbed an agent in the back and then ducked under a Kanoka disk before swinging his sword in a wide arc, slicing through several other agents.

His Bionifight training came back to him as he swept through the forces of Control, easily slicing through countless agents until he finally, he found a familiar face.

“Hello there, JiMing,” Zakaro said calmly, swinging his sword in one clean motion and slicing Valendale’s right arm off at the elbow. “How are you?”

As Valendale cursed, stumbling away and collapsing, JiMing stepped forward. “Better than you’re going to be.”

“A bold claim,” Zakaro replied, beckoning him closer. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

The Onu-Matoran lunged forward in the blink of an eye; before JiMing could react, Zakaro had knocked his energy sword out of his hands. JiMing dove to the side to avoid Zakaro’s next attack, grabbing a dagger from a fallen Matoran and bringing it up just in time to deflect another swing. Zakaro pressed the attack as JiMing scrambled to his feet; thinking quickly, the Ta-Matoran sidestepped and twisted the sword out of Zakaro’s hands. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated - the maneuver allowed Zakaro to slam him into the wall, stunning him just long enough for the Onu-Matoran to rip the dagger out of his hand.

“Your life is done!”

JiMing cried out as Zakaro stabbed him with the dagger and then ripped it right across his torso, slicing open his stomach. The Ta-Matoran’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor, bleeding out and vision fading as Zakaro stepped back and stared down at him with a look of disdain. The clash of the battle around them seemed amplified even as his vision began to fade.

“How the mighty fall,” Zakaro said drily. “You should see the look on your face-”

“You should see the look on yours!”

Slumped on the ground against the wall, JiMing watched as Xaeraz grabbed Zakaro’s mask with both hands and crushed in less than a second. The Onu-Matoran traitor stumbled back, but Xaeraz was not done. The Matoran of Iron reached forward and grabbed Zakaro by the back of the neck, his fingers digging into the softer flesh.

“I have wanted to do this to you for so long,” Xaeraz seethed, as Zakaro struggled fruitlessly, groaning in pain. “Ever since you refused to go along with my scheme at the Conference, I knew something was up! I knew you couldn’t be trusted, you SPINELESS WORM!”

With a mighty yell, Xaeraz ripped Zakaro’s spine right out of his body; the Onu-Matoran fell to the floor, dead before he hit the ground. Xaeraz spared the spine a brief look of disgust before tossing it away and glancing over to JiMing with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t expect me to avenge you again.”

With that, the infamous Matoran of Iron vanished back into the battle with another furious cry.

Seconds later, JiMing saw no more.

---[VOLTEX]---

He gripped the flaming sword of Burnmad tightly as he and Blade advanced towards Tekulo, stepping over the corpse of Unit, whom Blade had just slain. Tekulo laughed until the Coliseum shook ominously again.

“Wondering what that is?” Voltex asked. “It’s me. White One had bombs implanted throughout the Coliseum that were telepathically linked to him… which means that they’re linked to me.”

“Of course you did,” Tekulo said, chuckling again. “I should have suspected something of the sort. You know, it is a shame….”

“What is?”

“The fact that you’re about to be killed,” Tekulo replied. “The idea of having two of you to torment is too good to bear… but I’m afraid you are too much trouble to keep around. And besides, once you’re dead, I’m afraid the Shadow will be leaving us.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No,” Tekulo sighed, stepping forward. “I guess you don’t.”

The leader of Control flashed forward, snapping Blade’s neck brutally; before Voltex had even fully registered her death, he swung Burnmad’s sword and cut Tekulo right through the chest. The two dead pieces of Control’s leader fell to the floor as another wall of the Coliseum exploded, revealing a hallway filled with elevators. Voltex narrowed his eyes as he recognized the Shadow leaping through it, with several Matoran following - Rider, Vinylstep, Pulse, Voxumo, Xaeraz, and Portalfig.

I’m coming for you, he thought, taking off after them. But first….

He stuck out his arms, concentrating with all of his might - and from various areas of the Coliseum and Le-Metru, several parts sped through the air towards him…

---[sHADOW IGNITED]---

She found herself fighting alongside Chro, TBK and the robot calling itself Maxilos as she hunted down Luroka, doing her best to track the Makuta in the battle.

“Where is he?!” TBK yelled, smashing an agent’s mask with his hammer.

“Maxilos, where did he go?” Chro asked.

“Directly ahead,” the robot replied. “Proceed with caution.”

Not this time, Shadow Ignited thought to herself. He lied to me… he’s going to pay.

“Fire,” she ordered.

Maxilos complied, firing several Cordak blasts and clearing a path through the agents of Control before them. The three Matoran sprinted through the smoke with the robot right behind them; Shadow Ignited smoothly stepped out of the way of Luroka’s attack as the Makuta turned towards them. She ducked underneath an attack from the Ko-Matoran Kayn and kicked him aside before turning her attention back to Luroka, firing at the Makuta’s back. The Makuta dove away, shoving TBK and sending the Po-Matoran reeling away. Chro pressed the attack, swinging his sword at the Makuta furiously; Luroka snarled and waved his hand; a wall of shadow slammed into Chro, knocking him right towards Kayn. Before she could stop him, Kayn drew his sword and stabbed Chro in the chest. The Matoran of Sonics cursed, stabbing the Ko-Matoran in the throat; both then collapsed, dying from their wounds.

“You are mine,” Luroka said, stepping forward. “Kneel before me or perish!”

She backed away, readying her sword. “If that’s what it takes, then I shall perish.”

A shadow hand erupted from the Makuta’s chest, reaching towards her; before it had moved even a foot, Luroka was attacked from behind by JMJ and Smoke Monster; the shadow hand vanished as Luroka stumbled forward, punching Smoke Monster away and grabbing at JMJ, who neatly hopped away. With the Makuta distracted, Shadow Ignited turned to Maxilos.

“I suggest we strike now,” the robot said.

“Let’s go.”

As JMJ was knocked to the ground, Maxilos smashed its staff down upon Luroka’s head, kicking him into several other agents. It fired several Cordak blasters at them; Luroka scrambled away in time to avoid them as the agents were slain. The Makuta snarled, tackling Smoke Monster and throwing him into JMJ before turning back to the Maxilos unit.

That was his fatal mistake.

Where Xaeraz had failed so many months ago, Shadow Ignited succeeded - as she stabbed her sword through Luroka’s back and then ripped it right up; the Makuta was cleaved in two. Lightning shot out from the palm of Maxilos, frying everything within the body of the Le-Matoran that Luroka had taken over, incinerating every last remnant of the Makuta. Shadow Ignited helped JMJ to his feet, sharing a glance with Smoke Monster before signalling for them to return to the battle.

---[VOLTEX]---

He tripped over Pulse as he entered the hall and stopped, turning back to the Matoran of Plasma and kneeling beside him as he lifted the helmet, the Iron Voltex armor clanking as he did so.

“Don’t worry about me,” Pulse muttered, coughing. “Just got knocked over… figured I’d take a moment to rest.”

Voltex sighed with relief, glancing back at the battle against the forces of Control and then the elevators before turning back to Pulse. “Hey - we just found out that you were still alive. Do me a favor and go back inside the Coliseum. Fight there. The Shadow… they’re deadly. I’m not sure how many of us will be walking away - but I want you to have that chance.”

“If you die…” Pulse trailed off.

“If I die, then find Taka Nuvia,” Voltex said. “I put her in charge. She’ll know what to do.”

“I will.”

Arming the repulsion blasters of the armor, he dove towards the nearest elevator and blew the doors apart, flying into the enormous circular elevator shaft. Flipping in mid-air, Voltex wobbled a little as he floated in place, observing the multitude of elevators rising to the top of the mighty spire - and far above, the tracking systems of the Iron Voltex armor indicated that the others were still up there battling against the Shadow.

Time for you to pay, he thought, rocketing upwards.

---

As he reached the top of the shaft, he flipped around and blasted a hole in the side, flying through and spinning up into the air above the platform at the top of the Coliseum, where the Shadow currently duelled the others. Voltex swung around one of the spires and fired, attempting an ambush attack that failed as the Shadow dodged at the last second, forcing him to twist around Voxumo and flip over the Ko-Matoran’s scythe as it was embedded in the platform where the Shadow had been standing a second before.

“Glad you could join us!” Xaeraz called, diving behind Portalfig as a blast of rust flew past where he had been standing.

Voltex exchanged a quick nod with Vinylstep before leaping forward again, drawing Burnmad’s sword and igniting the blade as he swung down, the sword of the Shadow before it could cut down Portalfig. The Onu-Matoran kicked the rust cannon up as Rider fell in front of it, and the Shadow pushed Portalfig back before slamming the hilt of their sword into Voltex’s helmet. As the Ba-Matoran flipped backwards through the air, the Shadow took aim with the rust cannon and fired a blast directly into Voxumo’s chest. The Ko-Matoran stumbled backwards and tumbled off of the platform, his scythe swishing through the air, but Voltex forced himself back to the battle, pushing down the grief as he and Xaeraz attacked together. While the Fe-Matoran threw himself at the Shadow’s back, Voltex hurled Burnmad’s sword like a spear. The Shadow twisted out of the way and the burning blade embedded itself in the platform as Xaeraz was hurled into Rider; Voltex barely managed to blast a rocket out of the sky before dodging the next rust blast with a last minute thruster boost. The blast flew up into the sky as he flew back around one of the spires. As he returned, he dove into the fray but missed the Shadow as they dove forward; he heard a groan and turned in mid-air, horrified, to see Vinylstep fall to his knees as the Shadow buried a sword in his chest.

“Vinyl,” he whispered.

The Shadow fired their rust cannon at point-blank range into Vinylstep’s face; what was left of the De-Matoran crumbled away as he tumbled through the sky.

“VOLTEX, WATCH OUT!” Portalfig screamed.

He turned to face the Shadow and cursed, blasting himself forward and tackling the Shadow before they could fire another blast. They threw him off with surprising ease and he slammed into the nearby spire, his helmet’s display flickering as he rolled right off the edge, panicking for a second before his thrusters activated again and he flew straight up into the air. He was too far away to do anything but watch as the Shadow kicked the Rider of Kikinalo right off of the platform and then fired a rust blast directly into the Av-Matoran’s face; even as Rider fell, Portalfig and Xaeraz renewed their attack.

He slowly shook his head, reminding himself of TBK’s words - just as he heard Xaeraz cry out in pain and frustration. He glanced up as the Fe-Matoran flew through the air towards him, his left foot already rusting away. Voltex flinched as the jumbled together Matoran of Iron wrapped his arms around the torso of the Iron Voltex armor and held on for dear life. As Voltex reoriented himself Xaeraz swore, shutting his eyes as the rust reached his thigh. The two of them tumbled down through the air for several stories before Voltex managed to divert enough thruster power to keep them airborne.

“Heya, Voltex,” he said.

“Hey,” Voltex replied, the faceplate of his helmet opening as he pulled Xaeraz up until the Fe-Matoran’s face was level with his.

“Remember that time?” Xaeraz asked. “In Manducus’s office? We both went there to kill each other… and then we both let each other walk away.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“And then we both went insane together in the exact same way,” Xaeraz continued, sounding fond. “We had those friendship necklaces.”

“I don’t think that’s what I’d call the things that were keeping us both from turning into animals,” Voltex replied.

“Mine broke,” Xaeraz said, wincing as his right leg fell away. “Burnmad ended the torture, and then… I was on the Red Star. My mind was free, finally. So I escaped. And now I’ve gotten myself killed again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Xaeraz snapped, his eyes opening as the rust ate away at his torso. The Fe-Matoran gripped his heartlight, staring up at Voltex. “Listen to me - I don’t want to die. I’m not rusting away into nothing like some common spineless idiot. Take a part of me with you - someday, you’ll find a way. You can bring me back.”

“I - yeah, of course,” Voltex said, mentally cursing as more of Xaeraz crumbled away into thin air. “What am I bringing?”

Xaeraz grunted, his fingers digging into his chest - and then the Fe-Matoran ripped out his own heartlight, dying instantly as he pushed himself off of Voltex and dropped away. Voltex remained hovering where he was, shocked into silence, as the heartlight fell into his hand hand and the Fe-Matoran crumbled away. After a moment, he shook himself, tucking the heartlight into his armor. As his faceplate slammed back down and his heads-up display flickered back to life, he rocketed back towards the platform, where the Shadow and Portalfig still dueled.

This is it, he thought. For Burnmad, for Xaeraz, for Fighty… I’m taking you down.

---

He landed with a clang at Portalfig’s side as the Shadow was knocked back by the Onu-Matoran’s last attack. He shared a glance with his closest friend, growing worried as he inched closer to the Shadow, who began to chuckle. Both Matoran slowly approached their enemy before freezing in place as the words of a song that the Shadow was singing reached their ears.

“Far over… the staff’s broken bones….
Through plot twists deep… to games unknown….
We must away… ere break of day….
To see what game… X holds….”

Voltex turned to Portalfig, frowning. “What song is that?”

As the Onu-Matoran shook his head, the Shadow turned to them.

“Neither of you would recognize it,” the Shadow said. “But where I am from, you are both well known for it. Both the song and for the events that surrounded it… our darkest days.”

“Where you’re from?” Voltex asked, his thrusters pushing him up several feet until he was hovering above his opponent, while Portalfig readied his sword in a defensive stance. “What are you talking about?”

“And now it’s time for one last bow,” the Shadow breathed, “like all the olden Hosts…. The hour of Tex is over now…. He’ll be even… less… than ghost.”

Foreboding ran through Voltex’s body as he drifted back towards the Shadow, who stood to their feet.

“Where I am from,” the Shadow continued, stepping forward, “you were dying - but only after you had faced your greatest fear.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Voltex said.

“Your greatest fear is yourself,” the Shadow hissed. “In order to save you, I left our universe behind. I made a promise to you that I would ask every version of you that I came across what their greatest fear was - but I lied. I already knew. No matter what universe you’re in… no matter what circumstances I find you in… you always fear yourself. You always ruin everything.

“In every universe where your White Council succeeds, your actions inevitably cause everything to collapse. And when you appear as Voltex, you always destroy the White Council… but in turn, you also tear yourself apart. I promised myself that I would save you from yourself in every universe I came across. And so I have - the only way to save you, Voltex, from your greatest fear… is to wipe you from existence. And I have been doing just that, across countless dimensions.”

Finally, Voltex found his voice as he landed once more and drew Burnmad’s sword from where it had been embedded, igniting the blade and glaring at the Shadow. “You won’t kill me.”

The Shadow chuckled. “You say that every time… and you know, somewhere along the line… I started to enjoy the pain it causes you. It must be the shadows that have corrupted me. Do you think that you can kill me, Voltex?”

“I don’t have to.”

With a furious cry, Voltex lunged forward, swinging the sword in a wide arc; the Shadow blocked the blow with ease and twisted; Burnmad’s sword flew up into the air. Voltex dove to the side as the Shadow fired a blast of rust at him before turning back and grunting as the Shadow caught Burnmad’s sword and thrust it right at him. The flaming sword stabbed right through the Iron Voltex armor with ease, stabbing right out of the back, piercing Voltex’s stomach in the process. The Shadow released their grip on the sword as Voltex stumbled back, before reaching up slowly and grabbing their cloak.

“You deserve to know who I am before you die.”

Voltex fell to his knees, clutching at the handle of the still burning sword that had been stabbed right through his stomach. The Shadow pulled their cloak off, the shadows falling away as they did so, to reveal -

“Taka Nuvia?” he croaked.

“From another world I have come,” she said, aiming her rust cannon. “I have journeyed across the desolation and up the mountain, through nonexistence and memories and countless dimensions. Once again, Voltex I say this - goodbye.”

That was when Portalfig slammed into her from behind and they both slammed into the spire, Voltex falling to a kneeling position as he fought to stay awake.

Come on, you can do it, he thought, slowly standing. Even if it kills you… you’ll defeat her first.

“Portalfig, on my back!” he yelled.

The Onu-Matoran dove towards him and grabbed on as he rocketed into the sky before flipping around and diving into his memories of being White One, finding the bombs planted within the upper floors of the Coliseum.

Let’s end this.

As the upper third of the Coliseum was blasted apart, Voltex dove down headfirst; Portalfig jumped away and pushed off of a piece of rubble, falling through the air towards the Shadow in their final confrontation.

---[TAKA NUVIA]---

She, Quisoves and Pohatu had covered for each other as they fought through the forces of Control - Pohatu with a warhammer, Quisoves with his shotgun, and herself with a shield with razor sharp edges that was performing admirably as a reflector of bullets.

That had been before they ran into ToaD and Cyrix. While Quisoves had immediately begun to duel with his former partner, she and Pohatu were severely outmatched by ToaD; Taka Nuvia had never been a front line fighter, and while Pohatu had helped to take down several White Council members, ToaD was one of the only Matoran who could claim to have defeated any singlehandedly.

“You are powerless, weak, and stupid!” ToaD crowed, easily parrying their attacks with his throwing knives. “You don’t know when to stop! You don’t know who to fight for! Your cause is dead!”

“It is not dead!” she snapped. “As long as a single tyrant is in control of Metru-Nui, we shall resist it!”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” ToaD said, disarming Pohatu and pushing the Po-Matoran back. “That’s how the saying goes - I was never your friend!”

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Taka Nuvia hissed, lunging forward.

ToaD laughed, dodging the attack with ease and kicking her shield out of her hands, forcing her back up to her feet. The general turned away and whipped another knife at Pohatu - it embedded itself right between the Po-Matoran’s eyes, killing him instantly. As Pohatu’s body slowly slumped to the ground, Taka Nuvia screamed. ToaD turned his gaze back to her, smirking.

“Look at that,” he said, chuckling. “So utterly pointless. Ghidora, Ehks… both gave their lives so that he could live. And for what? So that I could simply kill him later! And now it is your turn.”

“No,” Taka Nuvia whispered, her eyes narrowing. “It’s yours.”

She smacked the knife out of ToaD’s hands, punching him right in the face. As the general staggered backwards, she leaned down and picked up her shield, stalking towards him.

“I shall bathe the stones in your blood,” she spat.

A knife whizzed through the air towards her; it bounced harmlessly off of her shield as she ruthlessly swung it down, cutting right through ToaD’s left shoulder. The shadow Matoran glared at her, snarling and fighting against the pain as he tackled her to the ground, spitting with rage. Taka Nuvia threw him off and he landed on the ground a few feet away on the rubble, blood pooling onto the stone from his arm.

“I will end you-” he started to say, pushing himself up.

Taka Nuvia lunged forward, driving her shield right through his neck. ToaD’s eyes went wide in disbelief - and then the light faded from them as she ripped her shield out, his blood draining away as he died.

“Miserable wretch,” she muttered, standing to her feet.

“Taka!”

She turned at the sound of Quisove’s call as the Ba-Matoran fired a blast from his shotgun directly into Cyrix’s chest; the Vo-Matoran staggered in her direction and she threw her shield - it spun through the air and embedded itself in Cyrix’s back. As the Matoran of Lightning collapsed to the ground, Quisoves stepped forward and fired into his former partner’s head.

“That’s for betraying us,” he said. “Nobody turns their back on the Triplets and lives to tell about it.”

“How are you?” she asked, trying to calm her breaths after her fight with ToaD.

“I’m alright,” Quisoves said, shrugging before gesturing to ToaD. “Better than him, at any rate. You really did a number on him - although I suppose he deserved it.”

“He did.”

“Well then, all is r-” Quisoves was cut off as a bullet cut right through his throat.

Taka Nuvia caught the Ba-Matoran as he fell, coughing up blood. To his credit, Quisoves did not allow the fear or the panic or the pain to show in his eyes - only determination. He shoved his shotgun into her hand, his arm steady as he stared up at her, opening his mouth one final time.

“K-kill… them all.”

“What a waste of a decent killer,” a voice said from behind her. “It’s a shame that you’ll be a waste of a good medic, too.”

She spun around to find the Le-Matoran that Control - Tekulo - had called Aeron standing there, grinning. Without hesitating, she fired the shotgun directly into the Le-Matoran agent’s stomach. Aeron cursed as he fell back; Taka Nuvia grimly stood, took aim, and fired again.

“You’re the waste,” she replied. “A waste of life.”

Aeron gurgled something, blood splattering out of where his mouth had once been. Taka Nuvia fired one final time, killing him.

---[VOLTEX]---

Voltex - or iBrow - or White One, it no longer mattered - tumbled through the sky as the various systems of the Iron Voltex armor began to fail, overuse and repeated attacks having severely damaged the armor. Blasting himself from one piece of rubble to the next, he dove in and around the fierce duel between Portalfig and the Shadow even as he fought to remain awake.

Their opponent momentarily flailed as she missed a jump; spotting an opportunity, Voltex blasted himself towards Portalfig.

“Grab the sword!” he shouted.

Portalfig did not question the demand as he grabbed the handle of Burnmad’s sword and yanked it out, immediately igniting the blade as he attacked the Shadow. Voltex’s vision briefly flickered as the blade was removed, and he cursed as it sliced through more of the Iron Voltex armor. His helmet display shut down and he dizzily ripped the helmet off, eyes widening as he saw the arena rapidly rising to meet them from below.

“PORTAL!” he screamed.

The Onu-Matoran glanced towards him and the Shadow punched him in the face, sending the Onu-Matoran tumbling through the air. Voltex blasted himself towards his friend, wreckage battering against the armor as pieces of it began to chip off. He reached out, fumbling to grab Portalfig’s ankle… and then a blast of rust hit him from the side and his armor began to dissolve away.

The ground was rushing closer, they had maybe four hundred feet. They were falling too quickly...

Three hundred feet…

He smashed through another piece of rubble, reaching forward, grabbing onto Portalfig’s ankle and gripping it as tightly as possible...

Two hundred feet...

The power systems of the armor began to fail as he desperately tried to twist them away from the ground...

One hundred feet...

Fifty feet...

He twisted in mid-air so that Portalfig was on top of him as they slammed into the first pile of rubble strewn across the arena, gripping the Onu-Matoran even more tightly as the Iron Voltex armor scattered away and dissolved. They bounced off of the pile and continue to fly through the air, scraping through half of another pile before he lost his grip and Portalfig tumbled away. The Ba-Matoran shut his eyes and curled into a ball as the last of the Iron Voltex armor dissolved; he cried out, flailing as he hit another piled before landing on his left leg with a loud snap and tumbling across the ground before flipping onto his back and skidding to a stop at the base of the mountain of destroyed Dread units, his vision fading away.

---[PORTALFIG]---

The Onu-Matoran cursed as he slammed into the rubble and came to an immediate halt, buried halfway inside the pile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Voltex tumble out of view.

Get up get up get up, he thought to himself.

Portalfig lay within the rubble, his chest heaving in an attempt to breathe as the remnants of the top third of the Coliseum crashed down around him. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, wavering as he turned and pulled himself to the top of the pile, wearily glancing around for Voltex before something slammed into him from the side.

The Shadow - an alternate version of Taka Nuvia, as he had just learned - dragged Portalfig with her, falling from one shadow and out of another at the foot of another pile of rubble, Burnmad’s sword spinning away. Furious and determined as his mind cleared, Portalfig grabbed the flaming sword and slammed the hilt into the side of her head, knocking the Shadow back. As he pulled himself to his feet and stalked forward, she backed into another pile of ruins and began to climb towards the top of the wreckage, meeting each of his blows with her own sword of pure shadow.

“Where I come from, we’re good friends, you and I,” she said, sounding winded. “We could be so again.”

“Not on my watch,” Portalfig snapped, twisting her blade away and disarming her. “This ends now!”

Standing now at the top of the wreckage, the Shadow narrowed her eyes and activated her rust cannon. Thinking fast, Portalfig pulled out the device that Agent 64 had dropped as she died.

It had to do something.

He pressed the button.

The Shadow cursed loudly as a small hole was torn in her side, acid dripping away as it ate at the biological tissue under her armor; she furiously shook the attack off, swinging the rust cannon up once more, taking aim -

- Portalfig lunged towards her, slicing upward with Burnmad’s sword in a desperate maneuver -

- the blade of his sword sliced right through the Shadow’s elbow, and the rust cannon separated from the limb as it fell. The Shadow cried out in shock and pain, staggering back, clutching at the stump of her arm, before she fell backwards, tumbling down the pile of rubble. Fiercely stabbing the flaming sword into the wreckage, Portalfig leaned down and picked up the cannon, attaching it to his own arm before sprinting to the top of the pile and leaping over. He flew through the air, landing with a crunch right before the Shadow; she was hunched over, clutching the stump of her arm. Ignoring the pain flaring in every muscle, he stalked forward; the Shadow tripped, falling to the ground before pushing herself to her knees.

“You know,” she said, panting, “where I come from… it’s an endless cycle of life and death. Nobody’s demise is ever permanent until they decide to disappear. It’s enough to drive most of us mad… and those that remain sane often look into the darkness and see themselves. Such is the curse of the Staff of Unlimited Power.”

“Yeah?” Portalfig replied, eyes narrowed. “Well we don’t have that luxury here. If we were lucky at all, we would revive from the Red Star… and now that it’s gone, every demise that we face is permanent. You have brought upon us only ruin and death.”

“We could be allies,” she said. “I could lead you to it. To ultimate power.”

Portalfig shook his head. “What was it that you said to Voltex? That he would be killed? Erased, as though he had never existed?”

The Shadow paused, for the first time appearing scared. “Wait-”

“That is what I declare,” Portalfig announced, stepping forward as he armed the rust cannon, aiming it directly at the Shadow. “I declare that in the name of Lhikevikk, Burnmad, Xaeraz, and all the others that you’ve wiped out forever - as if they had never existed… that your punishment, then, is to no longer exist.”

“You won’t actually do it,” she replied, a challenging look apearing in her eyes. “The Portalfig of my dimension never would. Nor would Voltex. He wouldn’t kill me, would he?”

“No,” Portalfig agreed, shrugging. “At the end of the day, I don’t think he would. But you know what?”

“What?” the Shadow asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Portalfig glared at her. “It’s too bad that I’m not him.”

He fired.

There was a flash of orange, green and white - it struck the Shadow in the chest. As the rust began to spread rapidly, consuming her, he stepped forward and grabbed her Kanohi.

“Your mask is mine.”

The Onu-Matoran pulled the mask off as the rust reached the Shadow’s neck and severed it, killing her. Portalfig stood there and watched as the rest of her crumbled away until it was nothing. He remained there for several minutes in silence, staring at where she had died, before briefly glancing at the mask in his hand and then turning to face the Coliseum.

It was over.
 

To Be Concluded.

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EPILOGUE

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

Portalfig sat atop one of the piles of rubble in the Coliseum arena, watching over the other survivors. There were far fewer than he would have liked - only thirty Matoran had survived. If he counted the self-aware Maxilos unit, then their numbers totalled to thirty-one. The robot had proven itself to be both loyal and useful in the weeks that had passed since the battle ended and the forces of Control were destroyed. Portalfig only wished that Quisoves was still alive to be thanked for his work… and berated for his role serving the White Council.

 

Having been undercover for most of the war, Portalfig did not recognize all of the survivors - but he was able to name a few. Aside from himself, he knew that Pulse, TBK, Taka Nuvia (the real one), JMJ, Shadow Ignited, Smoke Monster, Letagi and Valendale (albeit missing an arm) had all survived.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

The Onu-Matoran glanced up at Taka Nuvia; the Av-Matoran sat down beside him as he shrugged, replying, “as well as anybody, I guess.”

 

“A lot of Matoran are dead,” she said quietly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Voltex hasn’t said much since the battle ended,” she continued, “but… he did share with me the identity of the Shadow. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

 

Portalfig shook his head. “You don’t have to be. Whatever happened to that other version of you… she was a Matoran of Shadow. Like Shadowhawk, like ToaD - evil and corrupted to the core. Maybe in the beginning her intentions were pure, but at the end… she wasn’t you, Taka. That’s what counts, I think.”

 

“It’s frightening to think that I could reach that point,” the Matoran of Light replied, still visibly disturbed. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m glad you killed her.”

 

Despite his best efforts not to, Portalfig cracked a smile. “So am I. If I hadn’t, I’m pretty sure all of us would be dead and she’d be stepping over our corpses.”

 

“That is true.”

 

The two of them lapsed into silence, gazing down at the other survivors milling about below. Portalfig watched Pulse and JMJ fiddling with the wiring in the back of Maxilos; occasionally the robot would chime in, advising them on what to do. The Onu-Matoran was just about to speak when Letagi plopped down beside him, also watching the robot.

 

“Do you think they’ll do it?” the Bo-Matoran asked. “I mean, normally those robots aren’t able to use Kanohi Masks.”

 

“They don’t usually become self-aware either,” Portalfig replied, “but Quisoves did it. I’m sure that Pulse and JMJ will succeed soon enough.”

 

They watched as Pulse stomped his foot and stalked off; Maxilos and JMJ glanced at each other before following the Su-Matoran around the mountain of Vahki Dread units and out of sight.

 

“Are you sure, though?” Taka Nuvia asked. “About the Olmak?”

 

“I am,” Portalfig responded. “I had Maxilos check it over, and Smoke Monster - both confirmed that it was real. It certainly explains how the White Council might have been capable of dimensional travel… and also why Control set up base in the Coliseum immediately rather than waiting for what might have been a more strategically viable opportunity.”

 

He glanced down at the mask in his hands - the mask that had belonged to the Shadow - as the Po-Matoran TBK clambered up to them.

 

“And you’re certain that you can get us-” Letagi started.

 

“Maxilos already said he can,” Portalfig responded. “It might take us a few tries. We might have a few false landings. But eventually…”

 

“WE DID IT!”

 

All four Matoran glanced down to Pulse as the Su-Matoran raced towards them, jumping up and down with excitement.

 

“WE DID IT!” the Matoran of Plasma repeated, looking impressed. “He can use them! We can leave!”

 

“Gather everyone,” Portalfig ordered, standing. “Someone needs to… go grab Voltex.”

 

“I’ll go,” TBK said quickly. “It’s… been awhile. I’d like to catch up. Or at least show him that I’m there if he needs me.”

 

“Go on ahead. We can gather everyone and we’ll wait until you return.”

 

---[VOLTEX]---

 

Within the depths of the Coliseum, Voltex entered the medical bay, tentatively glancing at the various unoccupied beds until he found what he was looking for. Again, the words of Tekulo repeated themselves in his mind; reminding him that he had never actually finished what he had set out to do.

 

The body was still, hooked up to a machine that, according to Control’s notes, had the being locked into their dreams.

 

Hesitating for only a second, Voltex limped over to the bed, leaning heavily on his new walking stick. The loss of his left leg in the final battle weeks before had been something even the advanced healing systems contained within his armor could not fix, and it had slowed him down permanently… although it might not do so for much longer.

 

With a sigh, he lay down on the bed right next to the other body and hooked himself into the dream machine, shutting his eyes as sleep instantly overtook him.

 

---

 

When he opened them, he found himself standing on the small platform at the top of the Coliseum, staring out over Metru-Nui with his body back in perfect shape - but something was wrong with the city he was staring at. It was all dull and gray.

 

Lifeless.

 

Everything was absolutely silent until he heard the voice from behind him.

 

“So you join me at last.”

 

He slowly turned to face the figure, who stood with their back to him on the opposite side of the platform. Idly, Voltex realized that it would be easy to just push them over - but then he remembered that doing so would be pointless.

 

“I’m not joining you down here for the reasons that you think, White One,” he replied.

 

White One turned to him. “No?”

 

“I just wanted to let you know that we won,” Voltex continued, shrugging. “We defeated you and your armies. Every other member of the White Council is dead.”

 

“Fascinating,” White One whispered. “But I already knew that.”

 

“Of course you did,” Voltex said. “Control told you. And I imagine that Control said that they had crushed us - I’m sure they explained their plans for you. They hinted at it when they tried to kill me.”

 

“Tried?” White One asked, sounding curious.

 

Voltex shrugged. “It’s like I said. We won. Technically speaking, at least - only thirty of us are left, plus a sentient robot. But it’s better than nothing, I suppose. All of our enemies… all of those tyrants… they’re all dead. Every single one of them except for you.”

 

“You just couldn’t resist keeping me alive,” White One said, chuckling. “Of course not. You and I, we are the same; obsessed.”

 

“No,” Voltex replied, shaking his head. “It’s not that I want you alive, White One, or that I want you dead. I just… felt like you deserved a bit of an explanation, I guess, and a second chance. I’d like to believe there’s some good in you - after all, there was some in me.”

 

“What are you trying to say?” White One asked, sounding tired.

 

“Look at all of this,” Voltex said, gesturing towards the empty, open expanse below them. “All of it empty. This is your dream, White One. To control all of Metru-Nui; but even when it’s just in your mind, there’s nobody here. Nobody to brainwash, nobody to control. Just you - all alone, for eternity. That’s what I gave myself, you know. It killed me.”

 

The leader of the White Council remained silent, so Voltex continued.

 

“You could redeem yourself. Like I did,” he said. “Help us on our quest - help us save another universe. Help me save another universe from us. Your cause - our cause - was always an empty one… and now here you are. Trapped in a dream for eternity, left alone to go insane until somebody outside pulls the plug.”

 

White One did not reply. The leader of the White Council instead turned away, and Voltex sighed.

 

He had tried.

 

“You’re stuck here too,” White One said, sounding hopeful.

 

“No,” Voltex responded. “All I have to do is jump. But you… you’ll be here forever, White One. Until you finally realize what you’ve done.”

 

Voltex turned around and stepped towards the edge. He did not hear a sound from White One as he jumped.

 

---

 

As he awoke, Voltex blinked, slowly sitting up and grimacing as the pain he had become accustomed to swept over him again. He glanced over to White One on the other bed, sighing before reaching down and resting his hand on the machine. He could end the White Council leader’s life - all he had to do was turn off the machine.

 

But even still… maybe there was some light inside of him. Somewhere locked away. Voltex pulled his hand back.

 

“Hey.”

 

He turned at the sound of a voice and saw TBK. The Po-Matoran gave him a small smile.

 

“Hey,” Voltex responded, coughing into his hand and wiping away the specks of blood before TBK could notice. “What’s up?”

 

“They did it,” TBK said. “Maxilos can use Kanohi Masks - he can get us out of here.”

 

“Then let’s return to the group,” Voltex said, grabbing his walking stick and slowly edging himself off of the bed.

 

TBK grabbed him as he pitched forward, helping him to catch his balance.

 

“I won’t tell anyone what was down here or what you’ve been doing the past few weeks,” the Po-Matoran said quietly. “Not unless you want to.”

 

Voltex was silent for a second before nodding. “Thanks.”

 

---[PORTALFIG]---

 

Portalfig watched as TBK and Voltex exited the Coliseum, sharing a worried glance with Taka Nuvia as he realized that the Po-Matoran was practically carrying Voltex. His fears were confirmed when he heard TBK’s shout.

 

“Help!”

 

The group rushed towards the Po-Matoran as Voltex collapsed; the robot Maxilos reached the two Matoran first and caught Voltex with one arm. The Ba-Matoran slowly closed his eyes as Portalfig reached them with the others close behind, cradled in the mechanical arm.

 

“Voltex? What’s going on?” Portalfig asked, before glancing up to Maxilos. “Diagnosis. Now.”

 

To his shock, the robot merely stared at him impassively with its glowing red eyes before turning its attention to Voltex, whose bright blue eyes opened as the Maxilos unit spoke.

 

“Permission to inform the group of your true condition.”

 

“Granted,” Voltex said hoarsely.

 

“Voltex is dying,” Maxilos said shortly, before Portalfig could interrupt. “The injuries he suffered during the battle with Control were serious enough that recovery was questionable, and he has foregone the proper treatment necessary. He will live only a few minutes longer.”

 

Shock, betrayal, grief, and rage all swept over Portalfig, rendering him speechless. He gaped at Maxilos for several seconds before slowly glancing down to Voltex; the Ba-Matoran nodded grimly, his blue eyes slowly starting to dim.

 

“I… wish to die,” the Ba-Matoran said quietly. “I remember so much, Portal… I remember a lifetime spent as a tyrant, and thanks to this universe’s White One, I remember his lifetime as well. And in between both are twenty-six short years spent as me… as Voltex. I am weary, tired, weak, and broken. For a long time, I have longed for peace… for quiet. I shall find that in death. This is what I want. Please do not begrudge me this.”

 

“But…” Portalfig started, trailing off as TBK crouched beside him, shaking his head.

 

“It’s what he wants,” the Po-Matoran said. “I know what you want to say - but it’s already been said. And at the end of the day… well, what would you want to do if every living moment was torture, spent trying to convince yourself that you’re still you? Let him have peace at last. Let him rest.”

 

“TBK,” Voltex interrupted, weakly grabbing at the Po-Matoran’s arm. “I… never knew you. Not until… the conference. Not even in my old universe… but I’m glad that we became friends. One of… one of the lights in the darkness of this war.”

 

Before TBK could respond, Voltex was staring at someone behind them - Portalfig glanced over his shoulder to see Taka Nuvia, Valendale, Shadow Ignited, JMJ, Smoke Monster, Letagi, and Pulse all gathered around them.

 

“Smoke Monster,” Voltex continued. “If you hadn’t been there when I got to the Red Star… I would not be here right now. We might not have won.”

 

The Av-Matoran inclined his head silently as Voltex turned his gaze to JMJ.

 

“JMJ… you and Chro were the two final Matoran standing in my way back in my original universe. I am… glad to see that one of you survived this time.” The Ba-Matoran paused, coughing, before speaking to Shadow Ignited. “He betrayed us in the end, but… your alliance with Luroka… it saved us. Saved us from Control. Allowed us to hit them from… two fronts.”

 

“I wish I could have done more,” the Matoran of Psionics replied. “I should have seen it coming.”

 

Voltex shook his head, turning to Letagi. “Letagi… you are a… survivor. Like me, in a way. I can sense it… see it in your eyes. You can take on the world and win… don’t waste it.”

 

The Bo-Matoran looked shocked as he nodded. “O-of course!”

 

“Valendale… back on BZ-Koro, in the jail… you brought me to an army… to hope. United me with Xaeraz in the name of freedom. Thank you.” Voltex broke off again, shutting his eyes as he coughed up blood before forcing himself to continue, speaking now to Pulse. “I… remember hating you. Blaming you.”

 

“It might have been justified a little,” Pulse replied, shrugging.

 

“But then the Conference happened,” Voltex continued, pushing onwards, sounding a little desperate. “It was you, me and Ehks. We were never close, but… I’m glad you’re alive. Discovering that Control had spared your life… it was a beacon in our darkest hour.”

 

With a shuddering breath, the Ba-Matoran turned his attention to Taka Nuvia with a small smile. “There is… so much I could say. You… kept so many of us alive this past year. When I left, you led the Rebellion in my absence. And I hope that… you will help my best friend lead everyone just as well.”

 

“I will,” she promised, a look of determination replacing a look of grief on her face as Voltex finally turned back to Portalfig.

 

“Hello, my friend,” he said softly. “Ready to lead?”

 

“I don’t understand,” Portalfig said, shaking his head. “I-I can’t-”

 

“You can,” Voltex replied. “We have been friends for almost my entire life here as ‘Voltex’, Portal. You took down Operation Rainfall… survived the Conference… survived BZ-Koro… survived the war… survived Control… and here you are. Alongside me you lasted through isolation. Reached extraction, started an uprising… and when Control tried to exterminate us all, you struck the final blow.”

 

The Ba-Matoran broke off with a chuckle that turned into another coughing fit. It lasted for several long moments before subsiding, Voltex gingerly resting his hand over the hole in his torso from the Shadow’s attack as he continued.

 

“Lead the survivors on a new journey,” he said. “For me… please. Lead them to better fortunes. Allow me to know peace at last.”

 

“I…” Portalfig trailed off, closing his eyes and sighing before nodding. “I… can. I will, Tex.”

 

“That is… good to hear,” Voltex said softly, smiling. “Maxilos… I do believe… that it is time.”

 

Maxilos nodded, glancing around at the group with its glowing red eyes before informing the rest of them. “He is dying now.”

 

Portalfig opened his eyes again, staring down at Voltex’s glowing blue ones.

 

“So long friends,” the Ba-Matoran said faintly. “Maybe we shall meet again. Perhaps… the next time around….”

 

Portalfig watched as his best friend slowly fell limp, his bright blue eyes fading away.

 

“He is gone,” Maxilos said.

 

They were not granted more than a second to grieve as the tell-tale sounds of helicopters taking to the skies could be heard. Sharing a glance with TBK as they both stood, Portalfig frowned and glanced across the city to where a line of black specks were advancing on the Coliseum.

 

“It looks like the rest of the universe has finally caught up,” he said, turning to the survivors. “Everyone, gather your things! I want us to be gone before they get here!”

 

As the Matoran all scrambled to gather what few possessions they would be bringing with them, Portalfig tasked the mask of the Shadow to Maxilos; the robot caught it easily in its free hand as it lay the body of Voltex to the ground.

 

“Scan that as quickly as possible,” Portalfig ordered. “Once you have, open the gate up.”

 

While the robot turned away to do just that, Portalfig joined Taka Nuvia, Pulse and TBK in a semi-circle around the body of Voltex.

 

“What do we do with him?” Taka Nuvia asked. “We can’t take him with us.”

 

“No, we can’t…” Portalfig said slowly. “And after everything that we’ve been through, I don’t trust anyone to not desecrate his corpse. Which… leaves one option.”

 

“What are you suggesting?” asked Pulse.

 

In answer, Portalfig raised his right arm and pointed it directly at the body of his best friend. At a mental command, the rust cannon activated, the various pieces spinning as they all locked into place. Without hesitating, the Onu-Matoran fired; the blast hit Voltex’s body in the chest. All four Matoran watched in silence as what was left of Voltex rapidly disintegrated, until there was nothing left at all.

 

“It’s… what he would have wanted,” Portalfig said quietly, turning away. “And it… puts to rest any false hopes that we could bring him back.”

 

Before the others could reply, Maxilos brushed past them and tapped the Onu-Matoran on the shoulder.

 

“I have scanned the mask and am ready to activate the portal.”

 

Portalfig glanced at the line of helicopters rapidly drawing closer. “Open it.”

 

The robot turned to face the ruined Coliseum tower; the Olmak glowed as it was activated, and the entire group watched as a shimmering portal opened up before them. Portalfig turned to the other survivors, waving them forward. “Come on! Everyone in!”

 

He waited beside Pulse, TBK and Taka Nuvia as the other twenty-five Matoran entered the portal one by one; the last to enter were Shadow Ignited, Valendale, JMJ, Smoke Monster, and Letagi. The Bo-Matoran nodded to them before stepping into the portal.

 

“Well, here goes nothing,” TBK said.

 

“To a new universe,” Pulse replied, nodding.

 

“A new adventure…” Taka Nuvia whispered.

 

“To new hopes and dreams,” Portalfig said, “and to better fortunes. Let’s go. Maxilos… once we’re through, follow us and shut down the portal.”

 

“Of course. I’ve got your back… always.”

 

The robot nodded as all four of the Matoran turned away - and as they entered the portal, none of them noticed as the red eyes of Maxilos briefly flashed a brilliant bright blue.


The End.

 

ASK ME ANYTHING!

 

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  • 3 months later...

[FROM THE FILES OF PORTALFIG]

How many days has it been?

How many universes have I seen?

 

I am beginning to lose count. The Shadow has left a bloody trail in her tracks, and it is a trail that we must follow, if we hope to ever reach her universe.

 

To find the Staff of Unlimited Power. Perhaps with it, we could reverse the damage done to our universe. Or at the very least, save the universe of someone else.

 

Two newer Matoran have proven themselves to be rather resourceful during our travels. While I had originally assumed that only those I knew personally - Taka Nuvia, TBK, Valendale, Letagi, Shadow Ignited, JMJ, Smoke Monster, Pulse - would be of any use, I was obviously mistaken. Both Hubert and Tiragath have been invaluable in keeping all of us alive so far.

 

Some universes that we visit have been touched by the Shadow. Others have not.

 

Some have been free from the tyranny of the White Council for years. Some are still trapped within it. But in others, the White Council never existed at all.

 

We have yet to cross Control in any of these locations.

 

It’s hard.

 

It’s so, so hard.

 

When Voltex died, I did not understand why he wanted it to happen. But now… now I do. I have lost track of how many times I have watched Blade get eviscerated, or seen Voxumo’s skull bashed in. The number of times I have witnessed myself stabbing RG in the back.

 

It’s hard to see them die over and over again. A new death in each universe.

 

But in the end, we win.

 

We always do.

 

So far, our group survives. All thirty of us.

 

As for how much longer that shall last… well, I am surprised we have lasted so long as it is. But with each universe we become faster. Stronger. Tougher. Harder to beat, harder to kill. Better at killing. We can tell who to trust and who to betray.

 

This is not the life that I want.

 

But it is the life that I have. The life that I have chosen. It is my duty.

 

It took long enough, but we have managed to calculate just how long we have been on this journey for. It was… far longer than I had expected. Far longer than I had hoped.

 

Seven years.

 

Already seven years since we vanished into thin air and left our universe behind. Seven years since we tore Metru-Nui apart in a civil war, with only thirty survivors to walk away. Seven years of saving one universe after another, some of them alien, some of them not.

 

Seven years of staying alive. Twenty-nine Matoran and a single robot.

 

I suppose that is, in itself, a success.

 

We have reached our destination.

 

They call it the Desolation. The Desolation of the Staff. I can see why they do.

 

This place is hard to understand. Hard to comprehend. It is unlike any other universe to which we have been. Worse than Karzahni. Here, we live. We die. We live again. Death is impermanent, resurrection a part of everyday life.

 

So far, we have yet to encounter any locals.

 

I hope to keep it that way.

 

We have lost.

 

We have lost everything.

 

I should have known that we could never use the Staff. It was not meant for us, not designed for us.

 

We reached it… and all I succeeded in doing was reviving the Shadow through her mask. The mask I have foolishly carried with me ever since I destroyed her. She used the Staff to send us far away, telling us to hide. To run.

 

Run and hide before she comes after us again.

 

We may have found a new home.

 

This island, it is… different. The beings here, they are like Matoran, but more… organic. They call themselves ‘Protectors’.

 

They were terrorized by beings known as the Skull Army. Their ‘Toa’ were all dead.

 

We saved them. We always do, after all.

 

Our original mission ended in failure. But this island paradise… this island called ‘Okoto’… perhaps this is where we shall stay. Live out the rest of our lives in peace.

 

 

Perhaps this is the place we can call home.

 

 

Edited by Lucina
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  • 2 months later...

BONUS: TRUE SURVIVOR

 

The lithe Toa of Water walked through the ruins of the Coliseum, rocks crunching and crumbling under her feet. Her light blue armor was pitted and scarred from countless battles, her Kanohi mask an ornate design. A spiked mace and a large shield were strapped to her back, and a line of throwing knives hung from her waist.

 

Every few steps she would stop, crouch, and grab a nearby object - sometimes a rock, sometimes a piece of armor, or bits of a mask. She would remain there for several seconds, her gaze turning blank as she stared at the item in her hand, before awareness would seem to return to her and she continued upon her journey.

 

A swirling purple whirlwind appeared before her, the gusts of air from it blowing dust across the stone. The Toa of Water stopped in her tracks, looking at the whirlwind expectantly; she was not disappointed. A large, imposing figure wearing blue and gold armor stepped out of the dimensional portal, two silver swords clutched in his hands.

 

“Well?” she asked.

 

“We picked up traces of a dimensional portal, but we have been unable to track their landing point,” the Titan answered, his voice a low rumble. “Whoever activated their Olmak was skilled enough in its usage to scramble their coordinates. They do not wish to be followed.”

 

“Unfortunately, that is not their choice to make,” the Toa of Water said, gesturing for the Titan to follow her as she continued walking. “They destroyed the Red Star, and in doing so obliterated half of this city. They overthrew the White Council, the most stable and successful government that this city had seen in hundreds of years. They sank an entire city into the silver sea, and the uprising that they orchestrated has divided most of the universe in two - we are on the cusp of a total war. Thanks to this… ‘Rebellion’, the inhabitants of this universe may very well kill themselves off - assuming that the universe itself does not perish first.”

 

Shaking her head with a resigned and disappointed sigh, the Toa of Water halted again, this time kneeling next to a severed arm, clad in bloodstained white armor. Her gaze went blank once more as she activated her Kanohi, using its power to learn the last moments of the arm.

 

“This belonged to the Ko-Matoran Valendale,” she said quietly, standing and tossing the arm aside. “The White Council had connected him to Project Mayhem on numerous occasions before he was captured by Detective Canis of the BZ-Koro Police Force.”

 

“Did he perish?” the Titan asked.

 

The Toa of Water shrugged. “I find it unlikely. By all accounts, Valendale was an exceptionally clever and devious Matoran. If he is anywhere, it is with the other survivors - wherever they decided to travel to.”

 

They continued on, passing by the mutilated (and spineless) corpse of an Onu-Matoran and a Ta-Matoran nearby that appeared to have died from blood loss. There was a flicker of recognition in both of the being’s minds at the two deceased Matoran, but they did not stop to check on them.

 

“Commander Helryx! Commander Helryx, ma’am! We found someone!”

 

Both of them - the Titan and Helryx, Toa of Water - turned at the sound of the voice to see Mazeka, a white and gray Ko-Matoran. Helryx shared a glance with the Titan before turning back to Mazeka and nodding.

 

“Take us to them.”

 

---

 

Mazeka led them farther away, into the maintenance tunnels that used to run underneath the arena stands.

 

“He’s a Matoran of Shadow,” the Ko-Matoran explained, ducking underneath a partially collapsed ceiling as they walked past various Order members investigating the area. “Fought in the Bionifight tournaments before the Conference, managed to survive a shot during Xaeraz’s little stunt that should have killed him. He worked undercover for the White Council for most of the war.”

 

“Interesting,” Helryx murmured, motioning to the Titan behind her. “Brutaka… return to Daxia. Have a medical team prepped for immediate surgery, possible revival necessary.”

 

“Understood.”

 

As the Titan turned away, vanishing into another whirlwind, Mazeka continued to speak.

 

“Whatever glitch is powering this guy… I don’t even know what to think.” The Ko-Matoran’s astonishment was obvious. “I mean, surviving a point-blank shot to the chest, and then being left for dead for days? And now he’s survived taking two direct hits from some sort of experimental energy blaster, as well as going through half a dozen different walls.”

 

“He may make a useful operative,” Helryx noted. “Are we almost there?”

 

“Right around this corner.” the Ko-Matoran responded.

 

They stepped around - and there he was, the Shadow Matoran. His body was mangled with burns and cuts, most of his armor either cracked or missing entirely. His left arm looked as though it had snapped in several places, and his other limbs were not faring much better. Nonetheless, he was recognizable; as was the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and the glowing heartlight.

 

“I don’t think any introductions are necessary,” Mazeka said quietly.

 

“No… no they are not,” Helryx said, nodding with eyes narrowed. “Get him back to Daxia. Once he awakens… I’d like to hear what Shadowhawk has to say.”

END.

 

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