TNTOS

Whenever this happens for me, it always improves my stories drastically (or at least makes them a lot more fun to write). Yet I do little to actively cultivate it, aside from writing regularly, mostly because I don't want to force it (don't think it's even possible to force it anyway). It's definitely one of my favorite parts of the writing process, though. Sounds like you're having a lot of fun with your story. Good luck. -TNTOS-

Dang, son. That's impressive. The head in particular just screams Rafiki. Good job. -TNTOS-

It's that time of the week again, where I post another chapter of my epic. Here's this week's excerpt from Chapter II: Read the rest of the chapter here. -TNTOS-

Chapter II Ten years ago. . . . The Skrall stepped off the float bus onto the narrow sidewalk. This actually wasn't his stop; however, he had spent the last half hour listening to a crazy, probably homeless Po-Matoran ramble on about how the International Akilini League was secretly in control of all the governments on Spherus Magna and how everyone but him was brainwashed for failing to see the obvious signs of this conspiracy, the clearest of which was the IAL's presence in every country in the world (even though, to the Skrall's knowledge, the IAL only had a presence in every Republic country, not in the countries controlled by the League of Lords). The Skrall had been tempted to punch out the Po-Matoran, but when he realized that would get him kicked off the bus, he decided to get off early and search for the place he was looking for on foot. He looked at the place he had gotten off at. It was a rundown area of New Atero, located in the southeast end. He saw burnt out apartment buildings, homeless beings sleeping on stoops or inside trash cans, and smelled the stink of rotten food everywhere. The Skrall wondered if this was actually where his employer had told him to go or if he had accidentally gotten on the wrong bus. He decided to consult the letter he had gotten, telling him the date and location of his new workplace. Fishing the letter out of his bag, the Skrall unfolded it and looked at the address scribbled hastily on the page: 829 East Kanoka Street. He looked up at a nearby sign, which read '828 East Kanoka Street.' That meant he was only about a street away from his destination. He would have to walk quickly if he wanted to make it there on time. Stuffing the letter back into his bag, the Skrall began to walk down the street in the direction he needed to go. He felt vulnerable without his sword and shield, but citizens and visitors weren't allowed to carry weapons within New Atero's city limits. Besides, the scum that lived in these parts was too cowardly even to try to take on a fully-trained Skrall warrior in a fight. They instead preyed on weak Matoran and Agori, which did not bother the Skrall in the slightest. As it turned out, there was not just one someone, but several someones dumb enough to take on a Skrall. As the Skrall turned down the street, he became aware that he was being followed by multiple people, but whenever he looked, he didn't see anyone except a Kinloka digging through an overturned trash can for food. Just as the Skrall decided he was being paranoid, a Gadarian stepped out of a nearby alley. The Gadarian appeared to be a member of the Jungle Tribe, based on his green armor, with a knife in hand that looked like kind of garbage an undisciplined fighter like him would carry. He approached the Skrall with a toothy grin, which might have made him look friendly if his teeth weren't as rotted as the roofs of several nearby buildings. “Hey, there,” said the Gadarian in a falsetto. “Bucket-head. You lost?” The Skrall stopped and glared at the Gadarian. “Hardly. I have an important appointment to attend to and I am in a hurry. Unless you happen to be with Ignika Industries, I have no time to stay and chat.” “Ain't with no respectable company like that,” said the Gadarian. “Name's Vaner. I'm what you'd call a goods dealer. I convince you to give up your goods and no one needs to get hurt.” “You mean you're a mugger,” the Skrall said. “Or are knives standard equipment among respectable 'goods dealers' nowadays?” Vaner's eyes narrowed. “Call me what you like, it don't matter. I'm going to slit your throat and take your money just the same.” The Skrall shook his head. “You think you can take me on your own? Look at you. You're skin and bones.” Vaner chuckled. “I'm no fool. I know better than to pick fights I can't win. That's why I'm not alone, see.” The Skrall heard movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder. At least half a dozen other Gadarians had emerged from the alleyways and were already forming a loose circle around the Skrall and Vaner. They all looked as skinny and food-deprived as Vaner, but with them all together like this, the Skrall began to doubt his own abilities. “We can do this the easy way,” said Vaner. “You give us your money. We let you go. No need for anyone to get hurt.” Instinctively, the Skrall wrapped his fingers around his money bag. “I would be a dishonorable coward if I let a bunch of dirty crooks take my money without a fight.” “I forgot,” Vaner said with a chuckle. “You're a Skrall. Honor is all you ever think about. Maybe you shouldn't be so uptight. Learn to enjoy life a little.” “Perhaps you should learn to make an honest living,” the Skrall said. “And maybe see a dentist while you're at it.” Vaner scowled and raised his knife. “Enough chitchat. Looks like you aren't going to do things the easy way. Time to do it the hard way, then.” The other Gadarians had knives as well and began advancing on the Skrall. Unarmed and unprepared, the Skrall doubted he could beat them; however, Grandfather had taught him to fight no matter what, even if the odds were strictly against you. At least that way he would go down fighting, maybe even take a few of them with him in the process. Just as the Skrall was beginning to figure out his first move, a fire bolt came out of nowhere and struck Vaner's hand. The Gadarian let out a string of foul curses as he dropped his knife. The other Gadarians looked around in surprise, as if trying to find out where that fire bolt had come from. Amateurs, the Skrall thought. He knocked Vaner's legs out from underneath him and kicked the fallen Gadarian in the gut even as more fire bolts flew out of the darkness. Some struck the crooks, while others merely hit the street. Nonetheless, they all had the same effect of frightening the muggers, making them run away in fear from the sudden onslaught of fire and heat. The only one who had any guts was Vaner, who rolled away from the Skrall and was on his feet in an instant. He didn't even look around for the assailant. He charged at the Skrall, drawing another knife from the belt around his waist as he did so with his unburned hand. With a wicked smile, Vaner stabbed at the Skrall, which the warrior dodged. Vaner kept at it, stabbing and slashing at him with shocking speed. “You should have run when you got the chance,” said the Skrall, twisting his body to avoid getting skewered by Vaner. “Your friends did.” Vaner snarled. “I ain't afraid of fire. I-” Without warning, another fire bolt shot out from the darkness and struck Vaner's face. The Gadarian howled in pain as he dropped his second knife and ripped his now-burning helmet off his face and threw it away. This gave the Skrall the opportunity he had been waiting for. He headbutted the helmet-less Vaner and knocked him to the ground. Then the Skrall pinned Vaner underneath one foot, scooped up the fallen knife, and pointed its tip directly at Vaner's exposed face. Without his helmet, Vaner looked even uglier than before, with a long, thick scar running across the bridge of his nose. The Skrall didn't let down his guard, however, knowing as he did how dangerous this mugger could be if given an opening. “Don't move,” the Skrall said. “I am a trained Skrall warrior. I know more ways to use this knife to cut out your throat than there are Kanohi. Don't think for even a moment that I won't use them all on you if I have to.” “That's enough, Mr. Skrall,” said a feminine voice from one of the alleyways. “No need to scare the moron. As fun as that is, it's usually unfair to the moron.” As Vaner didn't seem eager to get up and fight, the Skrall spared a glance upward as a Ta-Matoran walked out from a nearby alley. She wore a Mask of Strength and had red and yellow armor. How she had managed to hide in the shadows with such a bright color scheme, the Skrall didn't know, although at the moment that wasn't as important as the Ta-Matoran's identity was. “Who are you?” the Skrall demanded. “Are you the one who saved me?” The Ta-Matoran stopped several feet away from them, folded her arms, and smiled. “Yes. Those fire bolts were all me.” “Wait,” said Vaner. “I thought Matoran couldn't use elemental powers.” The Ta-Matoran sighed. “Mr. Skrall, will you please knock out the gangster? There's no need for him to learn anything he doesn't need to know, after all.” The Skrall didn't like the bossy tone she used to make that request. He considered putting aside his enmities toward Vaner and teaming up with the criminal briefly, if only to teach the Ta-Matoran a lesson. He had not come to New Atero to be bossed around by arrogant villagers. He had had enough of that back home. But when he realized that Vaner was a Gadarian – which made him slightly worse than a Matoran in the Skrall's eyes – he slammed his foot into Vaner's face, knocking out the would-be mugger instantly. Stepping off Vaner, the Skrall turned to the Ta-Matoran and said, “Who are you?” The Ta-Matoran scratched the back of her neck, like it was itchy. “Call me Taniru. If you want, you can also call me Blaze. That's what everyone else calls me.” “I'm not everyone else,” the Skrall said. “So I'll just call you Taniru.” “Fair enough,” said the Ta-Matoran with a mischievous smile. “By the way, what's your name?” “I don't have a name,” said the Skrall, looking down at his feet. “Haven't earned one yet.” “You haven't?” said the Ta-Matoran. Then she snapped her fingers (creating a small spark that vanished quickly) and said, “Oh, right. You Skrall aren't born with names. You gotta earn them by doing something remarkable, right?” “Yes,” said the Skrall, still not looking at her. “My grandfather has faithfully served and defended the Skrall tribe for his entire life and yet has not been granted a name by our leaders. I do not expect to get one before my death, either.” “How odd,” said Taniru. “If you don't have names, how do you distinguish among yourselves?” The Skrall glared at her with all his might. “My culture isn't up for critique here, Matoran. I don't even know why I am talking to you like this. I have more important things to do than listen to your ignorant questions.” “Sorry,” said Taniru, and she sounded like she meant it. “But actually, I think you're the guy I'm supposed to meet.” Folding his arms, the Skrall said, “Explain yourself.” “You're here looking for the place you're supposed to work at, right?” Taniru said. “My company, Ignika Industries, just hired a Skrall. Today is supposed to be his first day at work, but he's late, so they sent me out to see if he was nearby. Are you that Skrall?” The Skrall nodded. “I did apply for work at Ignika Industries. I was also told that I was supposed to come down here. So yes, I am that Skrall you are looking for.” Taniru clapped once. “Great. Thought I'd have to do some more sneaking around, watching gangsters mug anyone who looked like they were from North New Atero. Really sad how rampant crime is right underneath the noses of the Toa, isn't it?” “Enough chitchat,” said the Skrall. “If you work for Ignika Industries, then surely you must know where I need to be. Lead me there.” “All right, all right,” said Taniru, holding up her hands. “Follow me. I know a shortcut.” With that, Taniru turned around and walked back into the alley. The Skrall followed her, but not before sheathing Vaner's knife into his own empty sheath. A part of him told him that he couldn't risk walking into what might be a trap. And even if it wasn't, that Ignika Industries had sent a Ta-Matoran apparently capable of controlling fire to fetch him was all the Skrall needed to know in order to justify a defensive position. - “That one looks good.” “I don't like it.” “Why?” “It feels awkward in my hands and is too heavy. I need something that feels more natural.” The black-armored Gadarian known as Jetrupi dropped the sword he had been holding back into the crate from which he had retrieved it. It landed with a clattering sound on top of the crate's other contents; dozens of knives, a few axes, a handful of shields, and various other weapons that had not seen use in who-knows-how-many years. Standing on the other side of the crate was the Skrall codenamed Night. He watched as Jetrupi pulled out a long, curved knife out of the crate and handed it to him. “How does that one feel?” Jet asked. Night grabbed the handle, which was too large for his hands, and threw it back into the crate. “The handle is too awkward. If we're going to be fighting Masqouth and his cronies, I'll need the best weapons I can get.” Jet sighed and said, “We've been at this for half an hour already. Why don't you check one of the other thousands of crates the Almighty Ones have?” The Gadarian gestured at gigantic shelves that surrounded them. Each shelf seemed to run on forever, carrying boxes and crates of various sizes. While Night didn't doubt they all held a fantastic variety of weapons, the sheer amount of choice he had paralyzed him. Not that he was going to tell Jet that, of course. Night grunted his response and grabbed something at random from the crate. “What's this?” Night had fished out what looked like a wristband. Curious, he tied it around his wrist, but it didn't do anything until he noticed and pressed a button on the side. As soon as he did, a shield spiraled out of it and hit him in the face, causing Night to swear quite strongly. “A wrist shield,” Jet observed. “Not very common, but useful because of their compactness. You might want to think about carrying that with you.” Pressing the button again, the shield spiraled backwards into the little compartment it had popped out of. Night glared at Jet and said, “Are you being sarcastic with me?” “Hardly,” said Jet. “I'm just stating a fact. Wrist shields are useful. As a matter of fact, I used to own one a long time ago.” “What happened to it?” Jet shrugged. “I fought a metal-eating tunnel worm and it ate it. Never got around to getting a new one, so I simply went shield-less.” Night glanced at the wrist shield and said, “Maybe I will keep it. I don't have my original shield anymore, after all. As good as this wrist shield is, however, it is nowhere near as good as a Skrall buzz saw shield.” Jet quirked an eyebrow. “How so?” Being careful this time, Night spiraled out his shield and said, “No edges. I can't throw it at my enemies and behead them or even cut them. I suppose this will have to do until I can go home and get a new buzz saw shield.” “You do know that shields are supposed to be for protecting, right?” said Jet. “Not for beheading your enemies?” Night hefted his shield and said, “And that's why Gadarian shields were always pathetic. I don't know what your culture taught you about fighting, Jet, but where I come from, you have to be able to use everything on your body as a weapon. Swords, shields, and yes, even armor have to be able to harm your opponent.” Jet leaned against the shelf and looked at Night's armor with surprise. “Your armor doesn't look any more combat-ready than mine.” “That's because you haven't seen it in action yet,” Night responded. “Not that I would expect a non-Skrall like you to understand that.” “I spent a good part of my youth among your people,” said Jet. “And I never heard about armor being used as a weapon.” “Oh, that's right.” Night grimaced. “You trained with some pacifist monks, didn't you? I don't think they really count as Skrall, in my opinion.” “Just because they chose not to fight didn't mean they couldn't,” Jet responded. “For all their flaws, they keep in practice every day. I bet even their weakest member could go toe-to-toe with you.” “Maybe when this is all over, you can introduce me to your friends,” said Night as he retracted his shield. “So I can show them what a real Skrall looks like.” Jet opened his mouth to respond, but before he did, Kiriah appeared around the corner, looking at the floor as if lost in thought. She seemed so lost in thought that she almost walked into Night. “Hey,” said Night, glaring at Kiriah. “Watch where you're going.” “Sorry,” said Kiriah, looking at him sheepishly. “Wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” She looked him and Jet over briefly before saying, “Hey did you two get new armor already? It looks . . . different.” Night glanced down at his body. He had indeed replaced his old armor, which had been cracked and smashed by the rubble that had fallen on him, with a new set that the Almighty Ones had provided him with. It looked similar to his old armor, but its smooth surface and spiky helmet reminded him of the kind of armor Grandfather wore. As for Jet, he had, too, had been forced to get some new armor due to the hole in his abdomen. His new armor was similar to Night's, but clearly designed for the lean body of a Gadarian instead of the stout body of a Skrall. Adjusting his helmet – which never seemed to fit quite right on his head – Night said, “Yes, we did. Haven't picked out any new weapons yet, however, aside from this wrist shield.” “Okay,” said Kiriah. “The Almighty Ones just gave me a report on what's happening back home in Spherus Magna.” “Let me guess,” said Night. “Things are getting worse?” “Unfortunately, yes,” said Kiriah. “Large numbers of Skrall and Skakdi have teamed up with the Kra-Matoran army. Even many non-Skrall and non-Skakdi are showing their support. The army is heading toward New Atero and will probably reach the city by the end of the week.” “What about Masqouth?” Night asked. “What's he doing?” “Well, aside from sending out a broadcast on the tele-network showing his support, no one knows where he is,” Kiriah said with a shrug. “At least, most Spherus Magnans don't. The Almighty Ones say he and the other Echoes are in Wyoko.” “What are they doing there?” said Night. “I thought there was nothing there anymore, now that the Kra-Matoran are free.” “They still have the Toa prisoners,” Jet pointed out. “As well as your friend, Kafor. Perhaps-” “Kafor is not my friend,” Night cut him off. “She's just an acquaintance.” “Right,” said Jet, who appeared annoyed at being interrupted. “Still, I can imagine they'd want to keep them somewhere they could keep an on them. And what better place than Wyoko? After all, no one lives there. With the Kra-Matoran ravaging Spherus Magna, I doubt anyone even cares about Wyoko. It is the perfect place for a revolutionary leader like Masqouth to hide, in my opinion.” “Well, it's clearly not the best hiding place in the world if we know where it is,” said Night. “Masqouth will learn that when my fist meets his face.” “Can't go until you pick out a new sword,” said Jet. “Real Skrall don't go into battle unarmed. Right?” There was something about Jet's tone that annoyed Night, but instead of responding, he bent over and looked through the box for about a minute before finding an interesting-looking weapon. Standing up, Night held up his find and said, “What's this? It looked like a normal sword, except for the trigger on the handle. Night had heard of gun blades before and had seen quite a few in his time as a Dark Hunter; however, this sword didn't appear to have a barrel to shoot bullets from. “No idea,” said Jet. “Why don't you find out?” Night nodded and pulled the trigger. Without warning, the blade erupted into flames, causing Night to drop it involuntarily and making Kiriah and Jet start. As soon as the blade left Night's hand, however, the flames ceased and the sword clattered to the ground with little fanfare. “A flame sword,” said Jet, peering at the sword with interest. “It must have its own internal supply of elemental energy to work that way.” Kiriah – who had jumped back the farthest – said, “Okay, but you're not going to actually keep that, are you, Night? Night?” Night paid her little attention. He bent down and slowly placed one finger on the blade itself. He immediately pulled back when he felt the heat, which was so powerful that he was certain he would have gotten a permanent burn on his finger if he had let it linger for a significant period of time. He wondered why the weapon seemed so familiar to him until he remembered Taniru and her chosen weapon. Then Night snatched the sword up by its handle and swung it back and forth briefly before saying, “I want it.” “Want it?” Kiriah repeated. “But you aren't a Toa of Fire. You're going to hurt yourself.” “I've played with fire before,” said Night as he lowered the blade, careful to keep its still-hot blade from touching the rest of his body. “You should be warning Masqouth about this. He's not going to be smiling and joking when his head is no longer connected to his neck.” “Night,” said Jet. “We promised the Almighty Ones we would take Masqouth in alive. They don't want him dead.” “Fine,” said Night. “I'll try not to behead him. But do you remember if they mentioned anything about decapitation?” Before either Jet or Kiriah could respond, a multitude of voices spoke in Night's mind: Very funny, Night, but we want Masqouth brought back in one piece. “Can't make any promises,” said Night with a shrug. “Anyway, we gotta go. Do we have any other preparations we need to make? Because I want to kick Masqouth's smug behind and-” We've dealt with everything that needed to be put away or arranged, the Almighty Ones confirmed. This time, we are going in with you. If Atuje finds out you're still alive, he will crush you all like ants. We will back you up and do what we can to counteract his power. “Good, because I'm not about to cover your butts,” said Night. “I just want to go in and avenge Heavyweight.” It's good to see you are excited to go, said the Almighty Ones. We'll teleport you three– wait, what is that? At first, Night didn't know what the Almighty Ones were talking about. As far as he could tell, the warehouse looked much the same as it always did: Towering shelves filled with boxes and crates that contained far too many objects to count. That was, until he felt a strange presence fill the area. It was like water, except as far as Night could tell, none of them were wet and he did not hear any water rushing nearby. Jet and Kiriah seemed to feel the presence, too, because they were looking around, weapons at the ready. Night had no idea what was going on, but if those two thought something was up, then he figured he had to prepare for battle, too, and so activated his wrist shield. Just as Night's wrist shield finished spiraling out, a nearby shelf exploded. He raised the shield to protect himself, but the massive amount of debris knocked him over and buried him underneath its weight. Something cracked nearby, but Night didn't what it was until he tried to move his shield arm, which burned like fire at the slightest touch. Ignoring the pain – he had felt worse – Night used his good arm to dig out of the debris and looked around at what happened. Jet and Kiriah were nearby, looking better than he did (at least they didn't have a broken arm), but they were still covered in dust and piles of rock and metal. Their faces registered expressions of astonishment that mirrored Night's own, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was the new being who stood where the old shelf had stood before it exploded. The newcomer was a Gadarian, wearing blue armor and a rounded helmet with spikes running down the back. He had powerful green eyes that seemed to command respect, attention, and authority. His hands were glowing with what appeared to be suppressed energy. It was like standing in the presence of a god, so Night knew who they were dealing with immediately. “Atuje,” Night said in a low voice. “I see you have a body now.” Atuje flexed his muscles and said, “I do. It is great to be back in the physical world, capable of seeing and eating and touching and doing everything else people normally do.” “Impossible,” said Jet, who crouching amidst the rubble. “We didn't know your resurrection was already underway. We thought we could stop you before you got too far.” Atuje smirked. “Do you think I'm just going to be a fair sport and give you three the chance to kill me before I become too powerful? Hardly. As the King of Life, there is no reason I need to be fair toward those who cannot match my power, especially if they happen to be my enemies.” Night grabbed his dislocated shoulder and popped it back in. It hurt like crazy, but he didn't mind. He just stood up, swung his shield, and said, “For being so powerful, you sure do brag a lot.” “Why wouldn't I?” said Atuje, folding his arms. “When you are as powerful as I, you have every right to brag about your prowess.” “True power does not need to announce itself,” Night answered. “Among the Skrall, the best leaders, the strongest fighters, are the least talkative. Anyone who spends more time talking than fighting is, more often than not, a braggart.” “Then I assume you must be the biggest braggart of them all, Night,” said Atuje. “Because you've spoken far more than your comrades have since I arrived.” Night smiled. “There's another saying among the Skrall, one that goes something like this: 'As the Skopio rampages, you never notice the sand bat coming up behind you.'” For a moment, confusion passed over Atuje's face before being replaced almost immediately by realization. He whirled around just in time to get blasted by a gigantic burst of energy. The blast sent him flying over the heads of Night, Jet, and Kiriah, over the top of the tall shelf behind them, and onto the other side loudly, a string of vicious curses exploding from his mouth as he flew. Standing not far from where Atuje had been standing just a few seconds ago was a group of five beings, all wearing the same ancient, gray cloak that hid their bodies, except for their dull, organic hands. All five of them held up their right hands, which still smoked from the blast of energy they had hit Atuje with. “That was dramatic,” said Night. “But useful.” As Jet and Kiriah got to their feet, Kiriah asked Night, “How'd you know the Almighty Ones were going to show up and attack Atuje?” Night shrugged. “This is their home. I figured they had to show up eventually, so I simply stalled until they did. As you can see, it-” “Jet, Kiriah, Night!” the Almighty Ones shouted in alarm. “Watch out!” Without hesitation, all three of them turned around to see the tall shelf falling toward them. There was no way they could dodge it or break through it. If it fell on them, they'd all be crushed. Then a domed barrier appeared around them; just in time, because the shelves crashed down on them so hard that Night feared the barrier would not hold. But it did and, when they were no longer under threat of being crushed, the barrier disappeared. They had no time to relax, however, because a whip of energy whipped out from the dust cloud, forcing Night, Kiriah, and Jet to jump back to avoid being hit. Night glanced over his shoulder at the Almighty Ones and said, “Thanks for the save. I owe you guys twice now.” Before the Almighty Ones could respond, Atuje stepped out of the dust and debris. Despite having been launched dozens of feet into the air and having been blasted by a bunch of pseudo-deities, the King did not look worse for the wear. He crushed rock beneath his feet as he strode toward them with energy blazing in his hands. “You old fools,” Atuje said. “Still every bit as deceptive as I remember. It is remarkable how little changes in over one-hundred fifty thousand years.” “Atuje, stand down,” the Almighty Ones said. “We do not want to fight you. We don't want anyone to die.” Atuje sighed. “Do you think I like killing? Of course not. But even I must acknowledge that death is necessary at times. And this is one of those times.” Moving faster than Night's eyes could follow, Atuje slammed his fists into the floor, sending a shock wave that knocked Night, Jet, and Kiriah off their feet. The Almighty Ones, on the other hand, teleported and reappeared right behind Atuje, but the King whirled around and slammed his fist into the lead One's head, forcing the entire group to skid backwards, away from Atuje. Shaking his fist, Atuje smirked. “That felt good. It is almost enough to sate my rage. Almost.” The King of Life launched himself into the air. So did the Almighty Ones, who collided with Atuje in a flash of power and energy that almost blinded Night. He could only watch as a sphere of what appeared to be light and energy swirled around the six beings, who based on the sounds of combat emitting from within the sphere were clearly in the middle of an intense fight. “What do we do?” Kiriah asked, who had gotten back to her feet. “How can we help the Almighty Ones?” “Easy,” said Night as a shadow orb appeared in his free hand. “I'll hurl shadow balls at Atuje.” Night reared back to throw it, but Jet grabbed his arm and shook his head. “Hold on, Night. We can't see the Almighty Ones or Atuje in this battle, so you might miss and harm our allies. Better we wait for them to separate than attack immediately.” Night yanked his arm out of Jet's grasp, the shadow sphere dissipating like smoke in the wind. “All right. I guess that makes more sense. I just hope we don't have to wait very long because I want to punch Atuje in the face.” Kiriah looked at him quizzically. “I thought you wanted to punch Masqouth in the face.” With a shrug, Night said, “Either one works for me. They're both about equally responsible for all the trouble we've gone through. Maybe I'll get a chance to punch them both in the face at the same time.” Jet rolled his eyes, but then started and pointed up at the sphere. “Look! Something's happening!” Jet was right. The energy ball expanded and then exploded. All of the Almighty Ones flew out of the explosion, scattering in different directions, while Atuje continued to hover in the air. He held one of the Almighty Ones by the neck, black lightning running up and down the King's form like he was a living lightning rod. “You have failed to realize my true power,” said Atuje. “I am far above any of you Almighty Ones. Even collectively, you cannot hope to match me in combat. I suppose that's what happens when you become complacent and fat.” Atuje hurled the Almighty One to the floor, who crashed into a pile of crates loudly. The King landed on the ground and began walking toward the Almighty One, his fingertips crackling with black lightning. “We can't let him do this,” said Night. He glanced at Jet and Kiriah and said, “What are you two standing around for? Let's kick his butt.” The two nodded and soon all three were running across the piles of smashed shelves and crates toward Atuje, their weapons drawn. They were yelling as loudly as they could, but Atuje didn't even glanced over his shoulder. He simply continued walking toward the fallen Almighty One, as if he were taking a casual stroll through the park. Night's first thought was that Atuje had to be an cool dude not to notice them, but it soon occurred to him just what Atuje was planning. He tried to shout at Jet and Kiriah to stop, but it was too late. The King whirled around, a smirk on his face, and snapped his lightning-laced fingers. As soon as he did so, black lightning bolts shot out from his fingers and struck Night, Jet, and Kiriah simultaneously. Even though Night had been struck with lightning once before, this was different. It felt like someone had taken had large, jagged knife and was cutting his insides apart with it. Even worse, the knife was boiling hot and burned with each application of it to his skin. It was all over in an instant, but Atuje didn't stop there. Night and the others were still staggering from the blow and they fell straight into the dimensional portal Atuje had opened. As soon as they passed through it, Night found himself falling through the void between dimensions, spinning head over heels at a fast speed. Lights . . . textures . . . colors . . . all of it flashed before his eyes as he fell. He felt someone grab his arm, but he didn't know if it was Kiriah or Jet. Not that it mattered, because they soon passed through a white light and slammed into something hard and wet. Gasping for breath, Night opened his eyes and sat up. Every inch of his body was screaming in pain and he himself just barely managed to contain his own scream. Even the cool rain that splattered on him did little to alleviate the pain coursing through his entire body. He looked to his left and saw Kiriah and Jet lying there, both looking just as worn as he felt. They were still breathing, so they were thankfully still alive. Despite being struck with black lightning, they didn't look like they had been fried. They just looked like they would never walk again, which was how Night felt. The Skrall staggered to his feet, his hands on his knees, and looked around at their surroundings. As far as he could see through the thick rain, they were on top of a large skyscraper in the center of what appeared to be a gigantic city. In every direction he looked, he saw buildings of stone and steel and glass rising from the ground, but oddly, no lights glowed from within or on them. He did not hear the omnipresent bustle of the city's inhabitants. He just heard the sounds of the rain as it pattered against the stone roof of the building they stood on. He wondered briefly where they had ended up, but quickly dismissed the question as trivial. They had to get back to the warehouse, had to confront Atuje, had to help the Almighty Ones. There was no doubt in Night's mind that this was what they had to do. So he raised one hand, remembering the proper stance Kiriah had shown him for dimension-hopping, and willed a portal into existence. Nothing happened. Frantic, Night waved his hand again and again, but he received the same results as before. For the first time in a while, panic rose in his chest, intermingling with his pain in such a way that he felt like a small child again, lost and alone in a large place with no one around to help or comfort him. The idea paralyzed him before he heard Kiriah and Jet stirring behind him. Turning around, Night said, in a voice of controlled calm, “Guys, I can't open a dimensional portal. I can't dimension-hop.” Kiriah shook her head and looked at him as if not quite sure what she was seeing. “What?” “I mean I can't dimension-hop,” Night said. He hated repeating himself, especially now when repeating himself meant saying aloud the very thing he feared the most. Jet was sitting up now, one hand on his head, and he said, “Then let me and Kiriah try.” At the same time, the Toa and the Gadarian raised their arms. And like before, nothing happened. “Why can't any of us dimension-hop?” Night said. “I thought the Almighty Ones had granted us those powers. How can we just lose them? They don't run on any energy source, do they?” “I don't know,” said Jet, looking at his hands as though they were broken. “I don't know. This shouldn't be happening. What-” “Atuje did it,” Kiriah said, causing Jet and Night to look at her. “That black lightning somehow stole our dimension-hopping abilities. Atuje was never planning to kill us at all. He just wanted to get us out of the way, knowing we're his biggest threat outside of the Almighty Ones.” Night slammed his fist into his other hand. “That fool. How do we get back, then?” Jet stood up, shaking slightly, though whether because of the cold rain or because of the situation they were in, it was impossible to tell. “Unless we can find another dimension-hopping device in this universe – wherever we are – I'm afraid there is no way for us to return. We're stuck here. Potentially forever.” Night was not one to break down and get emotional about anything. Letting others see your emotions – even your close allies – was a surefire way to embarrass yourself, maybe even get yourself killed. Under ordinary circumstances, he would never shed so much as even one tear around Kiriah and Jet. But now, Night didn't care. With his tears intermingling with the rain, he looked up at the sky and cursed everyone he could think of: Mata Nui, the Great Beings, the Almighty Ones, and especially Atuje. He cursed them as loud as he could with everything he had until his voice became hoarse and even then he kept going, while Jet and Kiriah merely stood by silently, their expressions saying everything that they were thinking for them. Review Topic

Hey, everybody. Back in the old days, I used to do this thing on my blog where I'd announce a new chapter of whatever epic I was in the process of posting. This usually included a summary of the chapter in question or an excerpt, depending on what I was posting at the time. It was always a lot of fun, even though I am not sure how much it actually helped raise awareness of my epics. Because In the End is my last epic, I thought I'd bring this feature back. "In the End Mondays" will include a short excerpt from this week's chapter, as well as a link to the chapter itself for those interested in reading the whole thing. Thought it would be fun and might even get me some more readers for all I know. Anyway, here's an excerpt from this week's chapter: Read the rest of the chapter here. -TNTOS-

Chapter I Present day. . . . Masqouth, revolutionary leader and lover of all things theatrical and dramatic, walked down the narrow, dank stairwell, his Mask of Night Vision allowing him to see where he was going. Behind him walked Jeran, Wavica, and Asroth, the latter of whom thought this entire thing was a waste of time and had wasted no time herself repeating that thought for the last ten minutes. “Why did Atuje order us to go down here?” Asroth asked. “Is he just trying to suffocate us underneath tons and tons of rubble?” Masqouth briefly glanced at the ceiling before returning his attention to the stairs before them. “I didn't know you were claustrophobic, Asroth.” “I'm not,” said Asroth, although even Masqouth could tell she was lying. “I'm just saying I'd rather be back on the surface fighting with the Kra-Matoran. Has anyone even been here before?” Masqouth looked at the slimy, old walls on either side and said, “Something about this place is awfully familiar to me, but I can't quite place it.” “I didn't even know this placed existed until Atuje told us about it,” said Jeran, fingering the handle of his new scythe, which he had received as a gift from the Kra-Matoran after freeing them. “It was rather well hidden in the castle basement, wasn't it? I doubt even the Kra-Matoran knew about it and they've lived in this castle for years.” “And that's why I'm so worried about it,” Asroth said. “What if there's something dangerous down there? And why'd he wait a week to call us down here, if it's so important?” “Asroth, stop being paranoid,” said Wavica. “Atuje would never send us to our deaths. Though he may be tough, he's not cruel.” “You're only saying that because you know he can hear us,” Asroth muttered. Wavica tapped the stone walls as she said, “I've simply learned to respect true authority and power. It's something you might want to think about doing yourself, Asroth.” Evidently, Asroth didn't like that, because she and Wavica argued the rest of the way down. Masqouth ignored them, as he was fascinated by the mysterious nature of the stairwell. Where did it lead? Who made it? Why did it seem so familiar to Masqouth? What did Atuje intend to show them? So many unanswered questions, Masqouth thought. I must have the answers. Jeran, for his part, kept quiet. More than once, Masqouth wondered what was going through the gray hunchback's mind. Two of the Toa they had kidnapped for their plan had been Jeran's friends in another universe. Not to mention that Jeran hated the Kra-Matoran (a fact Masqouth knew, despite his friend's attempts to hide it). Masqouth always wondered what Atuje had promised Jeran to get him to work for him, but whatever it was, Masqouth decided it was irrelevant to their current situation. After several more minutes of walking (and Asroth and Wavica arguing), the four Echoes finally reached the bottom. They now stood before a large wooden door that looked like it had been standing there for eons. It stood flush with the stone around it, making Masqouth doubt he could open it, even though it didn't appear to be locked. “A door,” said Asroth. “If I wanted to see a door-” “Atuje wants us to see what's behind the door,” said Masqouth. “Let me see if I can open it.” His Kanohi Animus transformed into the Mask of Strength, he grabbed the door handle, and pulled. It didn't budge. So he tried to push. Still didn't budge. Taking a step back, Masqouth gestured at the others to retreat. “Step back. I think you're going to see more splinters flying today than you've ever seen in your life.” The other three Echoes backed up around the corner. Once they were out of sight, Masqouth turned back to the door and charged at it. He slammed both of his fists into the door with all of his might and the old, wooden door – as strong as it must have been in its day – snapped off its hinges and fell backwards with a loud, echoing boom. Dust and splinters flew into the air, some of it dirtying his robes and getting into Masqouth's eyes. As soon as they heard the boom, the other Echoes cautiously peeked around the corner. When Masqouth waved at them, they rejoined him and entered the new chamber beyond the fallen door. Like everywhere in Wyoko, the chamber was pitch-black, so dark that even Masqouth's Mask of Night Vision seemed incapable of truly piercing the shadows. Then, without warning, the lights turned on. Masqouth had to close his eyes to avoid getting blinded. As soon as he was sure his eyes had adjusted, he opened them up and looked around curiously at the chamber they had entered. It was a large, round chamber, like a cylinder, with straight walls that went all the way up to the dome-like ceiling. A string of glowing lights hung on the walls, which was the source of the light. It was a less claustrophobic room than the staircase had been; at least, Asroth didn't look quite as anxious as she had before. The chamber's most striking feature, however, was the Toa-sized coffin propped up on a table in the middle. It was that coffin that caused Masqouth's memories to explode and start flooding his brain like a rushing river. “I know where we are,” said Masqouth, snapping his fingers. “Atuje told me to go down here once. I remember.” “What did you do down here?” Jeran asked. Before Masqouth could answer, a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once spoke. It reminded Masqouth of roaring waterfalls and the swaying of trees in the wind, like nature itself was speaking to them. Atuje's voice always made him feel that way. “I am pleased to see you all made it promptly,” said the disembodied voice. “Today will be the day of my resurrection and you shall be witnesses to my return to glory.” A presence like water filled the room, making Masqouth's every movement feel like walking underwater. Yet it was a comforting presence, as he recognized it for whose it was and so felt safe. “What are you talking about, Your Majesty?” Asroth asked. “How are you going to come back to life?” “It's simple,” said Atuje's voice. “Or rather, it is simple to me. Your minds lack the training necessary to comprehend what I am about to do. But do not worry; it is the results that matter, not the method. Now watch and be amazed.” Masqouth felt a great surge of energy build up in the center of the chamber, right above the coffin. It was like water was being held back by a great, big dam, but this dam was about to break any minute. And when it did, it would flood them all. Without any sort of warning beforehand, a gigantic, a black lightning bolt struck the coffin, creating a shock wave that knocked all of the Echoes back. Black electricity – at least, that's what it looked like to Masqouth, although he didn't really know what it was – arced up and down the coffin. The coffin was shaking, shaking so hard that it looked like it was about to explode. But Masqouth knew it wouldn't. And then, just like that, the coffin ceased shaking entirely. It lay on the table quite still, almost as if it hadn't been struck by a black lightning bolt at all. The four Echoes watched it with held breath. At least, the others seemed to be holding their breaths. Masqouth wasn't, as being a robot he was incapable of breathing air at all. The lid of the coffin creaked open and a figure slowly sat up. He shook his head and then looked at his own hands in amazement, as if he couldn't believe what he was looking at. Then he turned to face the Echoes with a wide, triumphant smile on his face as he swung his legs over the edge of the coffin and jumped out. Unfortunately, Atuje was less graceful on his feet than he had been sitting down. He staggered and fell to his knees, using his hands to cushion the blow from landing on the floor. He slowly stood back up, but he was now holding onto the coffin itself to help him balance. Atuje's new body was familiar to Masqouth, although it looked a lot better than it did when he had put it here. It was that of a Gadarian, of the Water Tribe if the blue armor was an indication. He wore a rounded helmet with a few spikes sticking out of it. All in all, he was probably not much taller than Masqouth, but the sheer power he controlled still radiated from his being like the heat from the sun. Atuje raised his hand as the Echoes watched. “Look at my new body. It is not as grand or magnificent as my old body, perhaps, but for now it will have to do.” “I had no idea you had something like this prepared,” said Asroth. “Where did that body come from? Never seen it before.” “Let me explain,” said Masqouth. “You see, Asroth, this body used to belong to a Gadarian named Eiflda. She died, however, and no one claimed her body. I took it, as per Atuje's orders, and placed it here. It was such a long time ago that I had forgotten all about it until now.” “She?” Asroth questioned. She looked at Atuje and said, “No offense, Your Majesty, but it doesn't bother you as a male that you have a female's body?” “Why would it?” Atuje asked. “Life is life no matter what its gender may be. All I needed was a suitable body to place my spirit in. Eiflda's was a good as anyone's, so I took it. It was even more useful because no one had buried it.” Asroth shrugged. “Just kind of freaks me out. Does that make you male or female?” “It makes me, me,” said Atuje, still gazing at his own hand. “I have been without a body for so long that I forgot how amazing one is. All these sensations will take some time to adjust to.” “Excuse me, sir,” said Jeran, “but I think we're all a bit puzzled here. How did you put your spirit in this body?” Atuje lowered his hand and took a few tentative steps away from the coffin. When it was clear that he wasn't going to fall over, he started walking toward the Echoes. As he did so, Jeran, Asroth, and Wavica clasped their hands over their noses, causing Masqouth to look at them in surprise. “What's the problem?” Masqouth asked. “Do you smell something?” “It's . . .” Asroth coughed before she could continue. “Atuje's body. It smells like death.” Atuje stopped about halfway over to them and said, “I suppose we didn't really do much to preserve the body before we put it here. I will bathe at a later point; for now, let me explain to you how I pulled this trick off. As my loyal subjects who have followed my dictates to their letter, I will reward you with the knowledge to cheat death, although I admit I can only give you a basic explanation, lacking as you do the training and experience I have in these matters.” The King of Life put one hand over his heartlight and said, “You see, prior to my first death, I learned of a technique known as soul-splitting. To put it in ridiculously simple terms, the technique allows the individual to divide their soul however many times they want. The individual can then place parts of their soul in anything; objects, land, even inside of other beings.” “Really?” said Asroth, her hand still covering her nose. “Sounds to me like you could live forever that way. Wanna teach me how you do it?” “It's hardly as glamorous as it sounds,” said Atuje. “Soul-splitting is painful to the extreme because it requires dividing the one thing that is supposed to remain whole: the spirit. Most beings who do it, perform it only once, and never consider it again for the rest of their life, as the very memory of it is like experiencing it again. I did it only once.” Asroth grinned. “I can take a lot of pain, Your Majesty.” “There are other dangers to it as well,” Atuje continued. “For one, you are never quite the same person after you've done it once. I do not know all the ways in which my personality has been changed, but I am certain that I am no longer the same Atuje I once was. There is also the danger of splitting yourself too widely; if you do that, you will essentially cease to exist.” “Cease to exist?” said Asroth with a gulp. “That sounds, um-” “Furthermore,” said Atuje, gesturing at the chamber, “you can't always be certain your other half will survive. Assume, for example, you place half of your soul in a jar. If that jar is smashed, you will lose half of your soul forever. It is irretrievable, which is why I placed half of my soul in Wyoko itself. It was the only way to be certain I would survive if I died.” Asroth looked a bit put off by Atuje's words, but Masqouth said, “That is so cool. But if you could just do this whenever you wanted-” “Hardly, Masqouth,” said Atuje, shaking his head. “The problem with placing one's soul in the land is that resurrection is impossible unless the land is devoid of its sentient inhabitants. That is the primary reason I had you free the Kra-Matoran; so long as the Kra-Matoran lived here and called it home, my soul would never be able to take back a new body. Believe me, I tried and failed before that. I know what I am talking about. Hence why I waited a week for all of the Kra-Matoran to leave the land.” “Oh,” said Masqouth. “I always wondered why you wanted them free. I mean, of course, I knew why I wanted them free, but I never understood why you wanted it, Your Majesty. If that makes sense.” Atuje shrugged. “Now you know. Anyway, it is time I leave, I believe. With my body in hand, I have some urgent business to attend to that I simply cannot ig-” Without warning, Atuje's eyes widened and his hand flew to his chest. He staggered, almost fell to his knees, but managed to catch himself without much trouble. He looked down at his chest, a mixture of terror and realization dawning on his face. Worried, Masqouth asked, “My lord? What happened just now?” The King looked up at his Echoes and said, with a grunt, “Nothing. My half-soul is just . . . adjusting to this new body. I am feeling perfectly fine. There is no need to worry.” Something in Atuje's voice made Masqouth doubt that, but he squashed those doubts. Why would Atuje not share his problems with the Echoes, if they truly were as serious as they looked? Didn't Atuje know how much all of them cared about his wellbeing? “What is this urgent business, my lord?” Jeran asked. Atuje looked up at the ceiling as if lost in thought as he said, “I have to go meet the Almighty Ones; you know, my old friends. It has been such a long time since I last saw them. In fact, did you know the whole reason I wanted to come back to life was so I could go talk to them again?” “Really?” said Masqouth in surprise. “You knew my parents? I can't believe it. I want to come with you. It's been so long since I last saw them that I can't even name how many years have passed. It's amazing.” But Atuje held up one hand. “Sorry, Masqouth, but I must do this alone. After all, you haven't killed nearly as many beings as your parents have. It seems a bit premature, in my opinion, to go and brag to them about your kill list when it is so small. Do you understand?” The feelings of excitement and hope that had filled Masqouth previously died out just then, causing the Echo to slump his shoulders and sigh, “Oh, I guess you're right, Atuje. It's just been so long. . . .” Atuje placed one hand on Masqouth's shoulder and said, “I know. And eventually, you will meet your parents. I simply want to see them again first, to make sure we're all on the same track, and that there is no confusion about our intentions.” “What confusion could there be, my lord?” Masqouth asked. “If you're friends with my parents, then surely they will be thrilled to see us again.” Atuje sighed. “This is where things have become complicated, I am afraid. You remember Toa Kiriah and the Gadarian, Jetrupi?” “Yes, sir,” said Masqouth, nodding. “They're both dead, aren't they?” “Not quite,” said Atuje. “They have both survived. They were rescued at the last minute by the Almighty Ones.” “What?” said Masqouth. “Impossible. I know Kiriah was saying she worked for my parents, but she had to be making it up. Why would my parents hire someone to get in our way?” “It appears to have been a simple misunderstanding,” said Atuje. “I've kept this whole thing a secret, so it would be a wonderful surprise when the time came, but alas, it appears to have backfired. Hence why I am going alone to clear things up.” “That's a rather big misunderstanding if you ask me,” said Jeran, folding his arms. “Yes, well, sometimes people make big mistakes,” said Atuje with a sigh. “Such is life. Anyway, before I go, I need to discuss another important matter with you four: The future of Wyoko, or, as I shall now call it, Heratone.” “What about it, my lord?” said Masqouth. “What are you going to do with it?” Atuje walked up to the walls of the chamber, dusted off part of it, and said, “Tell me, my Echoes, what do you see?” The four Echoes crowded around Atuje to look at the section of the wall he had dusted off. It looked like a carving of a forest to Masqouth, although it was old and faded. Yet even while faded, its realistic design reminded Masqouth heavily of the Wyokan forests. “You may not know this, but Wyoko was not always a land of shadow,” said Atuje. “At one point in the past, it was a land of light and life. It was only after a series of unfortunate circumstances that I failed to prevent that resulted in Wyoko becoming the desolate wasteland it is today.” “What were these 'unfortunate circumstances' that you speak of, sir?” asked Jeran. “They are unimportant,” said Atuje, waving him off. “The point is, with the Kra-Matoran gone, I can finally begin the long process of restoring Wyoko to its original glory. This is my ultimate goal. After so many years of watching the Kra-Matoran ravage my home, I am now prepared to return it to its true self.” “Right away?” Jeran asked. “Because Wyoko is a big place. Not that I doubt you can do it, sir, but-” “It will take a while,” said Atuje. “Which is why I first wish to speak to the Almighty Ones. I might even be able to convince them to help me. With their wide range of knowledge, powers, and skills, surely they must know something to help restore my land, to rid it of the shadow that has cloaked it for untold thousands of years.” “I'm sure they will help,” said Masqouth. “They're always willing to help a friend. They're the best.” “Yes, indeed,” said Atuje in agreement. “Now I must leave.” A dimensional portal opened not far away, which Atuje stepped toward before Asroth said, “But Your Majesty, what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” Atuje stopped and looked at them, as though he had forgotten who they were. “What?” “Us,” Asroth said, pointing at herself and the other Echoes. “While you're out talking to the Almighty Ones, what are we supposed to do? Sit around here and do nothing?” For a moment, irritation flashed across Atuje's eyes, only to be replaced by his solemn, understanding gaze a moment later. “Stay here and protect Kafor and the Toa prisoners. Make sure no one gets to them. I have plans for those six, plans I cannot allow to be derailed. Understand?” “Yes, sir,” said Masqouth, saluting the King. “We won't let even an ant get to them, Your Majesty.” “I am sure you won't, Masqouth,” said Atuje. “I will be sure to mention your diligence to your parents when I see them. They will undoubtedly be proud to hear that their son is doing a fine job.” Masqouth beamed. “Okay, but don't yet tell them how many people the Kra-Matoran have killed yet. I don't know yet myself, but I want it to be a surprise. I'll be just like them.” “Of course,” said Atuje. “I would never think to do that. I will be back hopefully shortly. In the meantime, remember my words, my Echoes. Because when this is all over, I will need those Toa and Kafor in order to do what I must do very soon.” Review Topic

Just removed the ".txt." extension and ePubPack decided to work. Guess that must have been the problem. Thanks for your help . Really appreciated it. -TNTOS-

Here's a screenshot of the file structure list. -TNTOS-

Congrats, Zatth. -TNTOS-

Okay, thanks. I'll try it out later and update this comment with my results. Edit: I downloaded the program you linked to with no trouble. Also, it does open and stays open, too, which is great. But for some reason I cannot select my mimetype file, even though I am fairly sure I have constructed all the files correctly. I could be wrong, though, so if you have any ideas I'd be willing to try 'em. -TNTOS-

Hey, guys. Recently I downloaded the zip.exe program from this website in order to compress my files into the EPUB format (I'm learning ebook formatting, BTW, and the guide I am using said I needed this program in order to make my ebook). But while I managed to download the program with zero problems, it's acting up on my Windows 8 computer. Every time I try to open it, it opens and then immediately closes before I can use it. It just won't stay open for some reason. I did some googling and found a website that said it might be Norton's fault, so I uninstalled Norton from my computer and tried again but that didn't work either. So if you think it's has something to do with Norton, it doesn't. I've spent hours looking for a solution online and I couldn't find anything relevant to my problem, so I decided to post this on my blog in case any of the more tech-savvy members here know what the problem is or can at least point me in the right direction so I can figure it out on my own. Any and all help is highly appreciated. And if I wasn't clear enough, feel free to ask for more info. This is really important to me and I really would like to get it figure out as soon as possible. -TNTOS-

I am pleased to announce that today I have posted the first chapter of my newest (and last) epic, In the End. Read it HERE. Epic will be 20 chapters long once it's finished. Schedule will be one chapter a week every Monday, unless otherwise noted. -TNTOS-

Welcome, all, to the review topic of my most recent (and last) epic, In the End. Read the epic itself here. This epic serves not only as the finale to the Dawn Duology (consisting of this epic and the last, Dawn of the New Century), but also as the finale to my Bionicle fanfic universe (aka the Shikaverse) in general. It's been a fun ride, but with me putting more time into establishing my professional writing career, I feel like the Shikaverse's time has come. There's not much to say here, except that I suggest reading Dawn of the New Century first, if you haven't already. Some familiarity with the Shikaverse* in general would help, but it's really only Dawn that you need to read first, which can be found here. Comments, criticism, reviews, etc. are all welcome . *You can find links to other Shikaverse stories in the red link to my library in my sig. -TNTOS-

Hi and welcome all to my newest epic, In the End, the final book in the Dawn Duology and the final epic set in my Bionicle fanfic universe (aka the Shikaverse). This epic is a sequel to Dawn of the New Century, which you can read here. I highly recommend that you read Dawn first, otherwise this epic won't make a lot of sense. Table of Contents: Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Epilogue With that out of the way, enjoy: Prologue 150,000+ years ago. . . . The tiny Sawori named Jinka ran through the castle hallways as fast as her short legs could carry her. She ran by guards, who recognized her as the King's messenger, servants scrubbing the floors (almost tripping over a bucket of water in her haste to reach the throne room), and a Heratonian noble who under normal circumstances she would have stopped to greet. Instead, she shoved him aside and muttered a half-apology, even with the knowledge that she would probably get in trouble for that later. Right now, she needed to find the King and tell him about the visitors who were waiting for him outside the castle. She had no idea who they were; however, she sensed that to stand against them would be every bit as foolish as standing against the storm, and probably more lethal. She eventually reached the large double doors coated in gold that protected the King's throne room like a pair of sentinels. It took her a few more minutes to argue with the actual guards to let her in. They insisted that the King wanted complete privacy, whereas she insisted that the King could not afford to ignore her message. They eventually relented, although she caught them muttering foul curses at her under their breath as they opened the doors. When Jinka entered the throne room, she couldn't help but glanced around in awe even as her feet carried her forward. Unlike the rest of the castle, the throne room was bathed in life. Instead of a carpet, a fine layer of grass covered the floor, while vines of various colors covered the walls and ceiling, twisted together to resemble paintings or wallpaper. A tiny stream with a bridge built over it flowed through the center of the room, emerging from the right wall and going down the drain at the other end. It was like stepping outdoors. At the other end of the room, the throne was bare. Worried, Jinka almost turned around to leave before a soft, though authoritative, voice said, “Jinka, what brings you here?” Startled, Jinka looked around until she spotted a large, well-armored being kneeling in the center of a small garden of flowers and vegetables in the lower left corner of the room. She wondered how she had missed him, because he was so much larger than anything else in the room, although she reminded herself that the King's armor was capable blending in with nature in ways none of the Sawori understood. With the King's eyes on her, Jinka bowed deeply and she said, “King Atuje, you have six visitors who wish to speak with you.” The King of Life lifted a small watering can and poured some water on his flowers as he said, “Who are these six, Jinka? Emissaries from the south?” “No, my lord,” said Jinka, shaking her head. “They're, well, they're hard to describe. I have no idea who they are or where they even came from. They simply demanded an audience with you.” Atuje looked up at her. His eyes were searing, searching, as if he knew every secret she had ever held in her entire life. Few Sawori were capable of standing underneath that gaze and Jinka was no exception, shrinking back under his burning eyes as she would from a large fire. “Six strangers show up on my doorstep demanding an audience with me and you don't bother finding out their names, at the very least?” said Atuje. “I am disappointed with you, Jinka. I thought you knew better.” The disappointment in his voice was perhaps worse than his gaze, prompting Jinka to say hastily, “Well, my lord, I can describe them to you. They're tall, but not as tall as you, and wear black cloaks. And they, well, they radiate this power that reminded me of yours, so I thought-” “I have no equals,” said Atuje. “I would know about them if I did. You must be mistaken.” Jinka wanted to agree with Atuje under the weight of his gaze and words, but something inside her – that stubborn spirit that had earned her a beating more than once as a child – kept her mouth going. “No, my lord, they really do radiate the kind of power you wield. It's different, obviously, but I can tell it equals yours.” Atuje stopped watering his flowers. For a moment, Jinka feared punishment for her insolence, but then the King said, “Yes . . . you are right. I sense their power now. It is not insignificant, to be sure.” Jinka breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you wish for me to go down and retrieve them, sir?” “No need for that,” said an unfamiliar voice behind her. “We're already here.” Startled, Jinka looked over her shoulder and saw the six visitors from before standing in front of the closed double doors. She didn't know how they had gotten there. She hadn't heard the doors open and they certainly hadn't climbed in through one of the windows, as those were closed shut. “I should be a more considerate host,” said Atuje as he placed his watering can down and stood up. “My name is King Atuje, the King of Life and ruler of Heratone. What are your names?” The lead visitor took a step forward, causing Jinka to scramble out of his way so as to not be in the middle of things, like a good servant. “You can call us the Great Beings. My name is Angonce.” “You did not introduce the rest of your friends,” Atuje said. “Are they simply your servants or are you forgetful?” The one named Angonce shook his head. “Their names aren't important right now. At least, they won't be until we're done talking.” “And what makes you assume I wish to speak with any of you?” Atuje asked. “You rudely barged into my throne room and refuse to tell me your names. To me, this seems like the genesis of an invasion.” “Rest assured, King of Life, that we have no intention of taking your realm from you,” said Angonce, gesturing to one of the windows. “We are already the rulers of our own world, anyway. And honestly, one world is more than enough to occupy our time, so why would we ever want another world?” “There are some beings who do not use reason,” Atuje said as he picked a flower from his garden and sniffed it. “In my time, I've met more than a few power-hungry fools who let their desire to be the king of the hill blind them from logic and reason. How can I be certain you are not the same?” “Because you don't even know us yet,” Angonce said. “But we have heard of your power and knowledge, Atuje, and that is why we are here.” “Explain yourself.” “There's one thing you need to know about us Great Beings,” said Angonce, gesturing at his group. “The one thing we value above all else – above money, above power, above even our own people – is creation. We are creators by nature, scientists who want to figure out how the universe works. It is our duty as creators to learn as much as we can about everything. Ignorance rarely created anything worthwhile, after all; at least, that is our belief.” “So you have come to me for training or knowledge?” Atuje asked. “You sound like experienced creators already.” “Both,” said Angonce. “We wish to be your apprentices for a short while, at least long enough to learn the one secret we know you hold.” “And what might that secret be?” Atuje asked, dropping the tiny flower into the flowers at his feet. “The secret to creating life,” Angonce answered. “True life, not just a robotic imitation. We have heard that you create beings and creatures that are every bit as living those birthed by nature, identical down to the last particle. We believe that the next step in our growth as creators is to create life.” Curious, Jinka glanced at Atuje. All the Sawori knew about Atuje's secret, but none of them knew what it was. It was a secret Jinka was well-acquainted with, having had direct experience with it in the past. She only wished she could remember how Atuje had done it, although she supposed ignorance was for the best, as knowing how it was done would probably be useless information to her anyway. Atuje stepped out of his tiny garden, carrying a carrot that Jinka had not seem him pick, and sat down on his throne, which was made entirely of tightly woven branches grown to resemble a chair. When he sat down, he took a bite out of his carrot and crunched on it thoughtfully for a moment before addressing the Great Beings again. “That is perhaps the largest request anyone has made of me in the last ten years,” Atuje said. “And it is also the largest request I will have to deny in ten years.” A shift in the room's atmosphere made Jinka look at the Great Beings. Though they didn't appear to have moved from their current position, she sensed they were ready to act at any moment. Considering the sheer amount of raw power their forms radiated, Jinka figured a conflict between them and Atuje would level the entire land or at least the castle and the surrounding countryside. She just hoped it wouldn't come to that. “You deny our request?” Angonce said, the disbelief in his voice obvious, even though it was equally obvious he was trying to hide it. “Of course,” said Atuje. “The knowledge needed to create true life is powerful. In the wrong hands, it could lead to untold destruction and chaos. Only a fool would hand out this knowledge to whoever asked for it. And I am no fool.” Angonce took a deep breath and said, “Rest assured, Your Majesty, that we Great Beings have no intention of using this secret for malice. Our only desire is to create. Nothing more.” “Have you heard the story of the logger?” Atuje said. Angonce shook his head, as did the other Great Beings. “Let me tell you it,” said Atuje. “Once, a long time ago, there was a Sawori logger who discovered a large forest previously unknown to his people. It was a beautiful forest, so beautiful that he didn't want to cut down any of the trees, despite the high quality wood that was abundantly available. He chose to keep this knowledge a secret until one of his friends convinced him to tell the rest of the world about it. 'Think of the money you could make,' his friend said, 'by selling this wonderful wood to the rest of the world.' “Having spent his whole life on the edge of poverty, the logger agreed. He spread this knowledge far and wide to every corner of Heratone. When everyone heard of it, loggers from all over the country made a mad dash for the wood and leveled the entire forest in the process. Not a single tree survived the onslaught of wood-hungry loggers. The beauty that the logger had once loved so much was gone, so the logger – having nothing to look forward to but a continued life of poverty – killed himself, as these stories usually end.” “I'm afraid we're not much for stories,” said Angonce. “Nothing you say will dissuade us from getting that knowledge.” “The moral of the story is that good intentions often have bad consequences,” Atuje said. “Besides, I haven't even perfected the technique yet. All of my creations have never been truly living. They have always required some mechanical parts on my end so they can function. Jinka, come here.” Trembling, Jinka nonetheless obediently approached her master. When she reached his throne, she stopped and stood with her back to the Great Beings. She tried not to look up at Atuje's face, as she had an idea of what he was about to do and looking at him would just make it worse. “Jinka is one of my creations,” said Atuje, patting her gently on the head with one of his heavy hands. “One of the best, in fact. She is the only one who has managed to successfully integrate with Sawori society. I can sense you are surprised. She does look very much like your average Sawori, doesn't she?” In spite of herself, Jinka began breathing hard. She reminded herself that Atuje was a fair and merciful ruler, that he hated killing, and that whatever he was planning to do to her wouldn't be cruel or unnecessary, probably wouldn't even hurt in fact. None of that calmed her in the slightest. “That is an illusion, however, crafted by my ingenious hand,” Atuje continued. “Watch.” Atuje wrapped his thick fingers around her right arm, causing Jinka to whimper. “What are you going to do to her?” Angonce said. “She whimpered.” “It is nothing, I assure you,” said Atuje. “She is going to be fine. The way I built her makes what I am going to do possible without leaving any permanent damage.” Without warning, Atuje ripped off Jinka's right arm. Behind her, the Great Beings let out various noises of disgust and surprise, but Jinka didn't join them. She just looked at the socket where her right arm had been. A hollow socket was all that was left, but Jinka didn't cry out, even though she wanted to. She just waited patiently as Atuje lifted her disconnected arm up for the Great Beings to see. “Behold,” said Atuje in the voice of a creator explaining the intricacies of his craft. “Her entire body is like that. About the only part that cannot be taken off in that way is her head; otherwise, she would die.” “So she's not really alive at all,” said Angonce. “Just a puppet.” Those words stabbed at Jinka's heart like a knife as Atuje said, “Hardly a puppet. While she may not be perfectly organic, she is nonetheless one of my subjects and I will not tolerate such an insult to her being.” Atuje reconnected her right arm. Jinka swiveled it several times back and forth, trying to make sure he had put it back on correctly. She realized she was holding her breath, which she let out rather more loudly than she intended. “Do you still want to know how to create life?” Atuje asked. “After what I just showed you?” Jinka glanced over her shoulder at the Great Beings. Though they still faced Atuje, she sensed they had all come to some sort of agreement without saying a word. “Of course,” said Angonce, without a hint of hesitation in his voice. “We want more than anything else to improve our craft. Besides, we can already see ways to improve your work, if Jinka is representative of your ability.” Atuje stroked his chin. “If I accept you as apprentices, what will I get in exchange? What do you have to offer me that I cannot get on my own?” “Another secret of our own,” said Angonce. “One we know you don't know. It is called soul-splitting.” Atuje's interest was apparently piqued at the mention of that technique, as he leaned forward in his throne, although Jinka didn't know what the term meant. “You mean you know how to split souls?” Atuje asked. Angonce nodded. “All of us do. And we've agreed to exchange that secret for yours. We believe the exchange is fair. Do you agree?” “It is more than fair,” said Atuje. “It is generous. You are going to tell me how to cheat death, how to survive long after my physical body has given out in exhaustion. Do you realize what that means?” “Of course we do,” said Angonce. “But cheating death is useless if we do not know how to bring about life, wouldn't you agree? We can complete one another's mental libraries with an exchange of knowledge.” “Oh, yes,” said Atuje. “Yes, yes, of course. I will teach you what I know and you will teach me what you know. Deal?” “Deal,” said Angonce. “Now where shall we begin?” “I will take you to my laboratory,” said Atuje. “I can only perform my experiments down there. Jinka, I want you to inform the rest of the castle that we have guests whose will require accommodations similar to my own.” “Yes, sir,” said Jinka, bowing. “I will make sure everyone in the castle knows.” With that, Jinka dashed away from Atuje's throne, perhaps a bit quicker than she should have. She passed the six Great Beings, who barely acknowledged her, and reached the large double doors. When she stopped to look back, she saw that Atuje and the Great Beings were already deep in talk about matters she couldn't possibly comprehend. What am I doing? Jinka thought. I've got a job to do, one that doesn't involve gawking at our guests. Still, as Jinka exited the throne room and dashed down the stairs, she couldn't help but sense of feeling of ominousness hang over her head like a dark cloud. She ignored it, however, as she came upon the first of her fellow servants and began explaining to him what Atuje had told her. Whatever happened would be under the King's power. She had no right to worry about it. Review Topic

Congrats to all the winners. I especially liked Octodad's Honedge, but the Link and Ganondorf one was pretty cool, too. -TNTOS-

Hey guys. I just posted the epilogue to An Unlikely Alliance in the Shika Trilogy Omnibus topic a few minutes ago, That means that the entire Shika Trilogy has been reposted, which means anyone who was putting off reading it until it was all up can read it now. Yay! Unfortunately, I am feeling really sick right now, with only enough strength to post AUA's epilogue. Unfortunately, that means I've decided to put off In the End's release date a week. That means, instead of being posted today, In the End's official release date is now Monday, April 7th, 2014. I severely apologize to anyone who was looking forward to reading the prologue today, but right now I am in no mood to mess with the links and writing up a summary for the library and posting and other issues I usually deal with when posting a new epic. There's a good chance I'll mess up if I post it now, when I'm sick and tired, so I've decided to do it when I'm feeling better, which should hopefully be by next week. Again, I really sorry. I was looking forward to posting In the End today, too, and I know this announcement was extremely last minute, but frankly I didn't plan to get sick and I don't trust myself to get everything right when I'm feeling this way. Barely even trust myself to write up this blog post, actually. So just to be sure everyone knows, I will post In the End on Monday, April 7th, 2014, exactly one week from today. No later and no sooner than that. My apologies, -TNTOS-

Epilogue The streets of Stelt were quiet and empty of beings tonight, save for some of the brutish species that the late Dark Hunter known as Krekka had belonged to. They were mainly acting as guards for a small, rather unimportant-looking building, not talking much, keeping their eyes open for any signs of potential intruders. Their axes glinted in the glow of their lanterns, which gave them just enough light to see most of the surrounding area. A cloaked figure that was roughly the same size as they were appeared out of the shadows, as if he had been born from within the darkness. At first the two brutes raised their axes high and made threatening grunts, obviously thinking he was a threat of some kind. However, he held up a stone tablet, identifying himself, and the two, lowering their axes, stepped aside to allow him to enter the building. One of the brutes glanced curiously at the cloaked figure, but one glare from the being was enough to make even the brute turn away in fright. The cloaked figure closed the door as he entered and scanned his surroundings. He was now in a small room, decorated simply, with a soft red carpet in the middle, a table that held a few light stones sitting upon its surface. The figure noticed two pillows at either ends of the round table, which were obviously meant for sitting on. The room smelled terrible, in his opinion, though he assumed his inviter liked the smell of dead stone rats, which he couldn’t quite understand. Then again, he had never understood her in the first place. He seated himself at the table on one of the pillows and took off his cloak, which had been enough to keep him warm outside but was totally unnecessary in here, for the interior of this building was very warm. Raider glanced at the other end of the room, where he saw a closed stone door. He knew that the person he was supposed to see here was behind that door, but it didn’t stop him from feeling impatient and resentful towards her. What could be so important that we have to meet here, in this Zyglak dump, when I could be heading back to Odina with news regarding the status of Shika Nui? Raider thought, annoyed. He felt around in his bag for the pieces of his rifle, which he had yet to repair since leaving Shika Nui a few days ago. I could be informing the Shadowed One of what happened and getting my gun repaired, too. I don’t even know how she knew where I was; my mission was top secret and only the Shadowed One, Ancient, Darkness, and Sentrakh knew about it. The door on the other side of the room creaked open then and a bizarre-looking creature slithered out, her small, reddish eyes on him. Raider was used to her appearance; she had no legs, only a long snake tail that she used to slither along with, though she had the upper body of a humanoid being, with two arms and head as well as a torso, though her face looked like a serpent to him. Her armor was colored black which helped conceal her in the darkness, right before she struck her enemies down when they least expect it. However, today the one known as Syala was not going to be fighting anyone. Raider did not know what she was going to tell him, though her messenger had claimed it was important. Once again, he wondered what could be so important that he had to be here, rather than at Odina. Of course, Syala usually had reasons for calling people, so he decided to at least hear what she was going to say, whatever it was. Syala was, like himself, a Dark Hunter, and a rather crafty one at that. Raider did not particularly like her, however; she always seemed like the type that would betray the Hunters in a heartbeat if given the chance. Disloyalty to the Dar Hunters was something he heavily disliked, being a senior member of that organization, so he usually tried to keep an eye on her whenever they happened to be together on Odina or on a mission. But she did have her uses. She was the kind that could easily think of a way to break into the most heavily guarded fortress in the universe without ever being noticed once. Her illusion powers helped her quite a bit with that. That was the main reason she had been recruited about 3,000 years ago or so, when she had directly approached a Dark Hunter and offered to join. Raider did not know her reasons for joining (the Shadowed One hadn’t bothered to tell him), but she had been accepted once her strategic mind was discovered and had thus far proven herself a cut above the others, though not, he knew, as good as himself. “What is this about, Syala?” asked Raider harshly, adjusting his seat uncomfortably. It was true that this pillow was softer than the treetops of Shika Nui that he had been sleeping in for about a week and a half, but he preferred actual chairs to sit in just the same. “I am supposed to be at Odina, not here discussing the weather with filth like you.” Syala coiled her snake-like tail on the pillow and looked at him with a smug expression on her face. “Indeed, you would be at Odina, informing the Shadowed One of the mysteries of Shika Nui, wouldn’t you? Well, I can tell you that the Shadowed One is no longer on Odina. He left, along with a small army of Dark Hunters, for Xia some time ago and has taken over the place.” Raider looked at her in disbelief and anger. “But I thought he had postponed the decision to do that until I came back from Shika Nui with the report of what had happened there! He told me himself!” “Making sure our enemies do not get their hands on Xian weapons and tools is far more important than whatever happened on Shika Nui, Raider,” Syala replied. “That is what the Shadowed One believes, and what he says, goes.” “I am sure that he would have said differently had he heard my report first,” Raider snapped, slamming his fist on the table in frustration. “The situation on that island is entirely different than what we imagined. He must know immediately that the island is ripe for conquest once more.” Syala, who had been idly twiddling a stone between her fingers looked up at Raider and said, “Oh, really?” “Yes,” said Raider, impatiently tapping his fingers on the stone table between them. “We need to strike now. There are only a few Hunters still left on the island, Syala, and they have allied with Toa.” Syala laughed. “Toa? The only Toa left on Shika Nui is that Toa Joha, and he’s hated by all Dark Hunters there. Explain what you mean.” Raider hesitated at first. He had wanted the Shadowed One to be the first to hear what he had learned, not Syala or anyone else. He really did not want to tell her; what if she found a way to tell the Shadowed One before he did? He wanted to earn the credit for what he had learned, especially considering he had nearly been killed on this mission. His personal dislike of Syala didn’t help matters, either. Still . . . he could just give her a brief outline of what happened and later on give the Shadowed One all of the details. At least that way he might still be able to take credit himself. So Raider briefly outlined what he had learned to Syala, who listened intently to his story. Once he finished, the Huntress looked incredulous, much to his satisfaction. “Tuikas? Makuta Hajax, alive?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Your old age must finally be catching up with you, Raider, because it is a known fact that Makuta Hajax is dead. Plus, these Tuikas sound rather . . . imaginative. How could six talking Rahi slay hundreds of Dark Hunters, even if they were stronger than most Rahi?” “It is the truth, Syala, and you’d better believe it, because once the Shadowed One sends troops to recapture Shika Nui, you will be able to see with your own eyes what I have just told you,” Raider said shortly, folding his arms and glaring at her. “I have no idea what state Hajax or the Tuikas may be in at the moment; last I saw, they were battling the Toa and rogue Hunters who had allied with the heroes. I left early because I knew my presence was known to the Tuikas, and if they won the battle, they would surely have come after me next.” This was a blatant lie. Raider had actually stayed and watched the whole fight from beginning to end from the safety of a ruined hut and had left after the Toa of Fire and that black-armored female Toa had emerged from the mines with Hajax’s body. He didn’t want to tell Syala this because he wanted to spite her. He would share the complete story with the Shadowed One once his meeting with Syala was over with. “Well, if what you say is true, Raider, we must send a message to the Shadowed One immediately,” said Syala seriously. “We cannot let a bunch of overpowered Rahi and what might be a resurrected Makuta Hajax foil our plans, now can we?” “No, we can’t,” Raider agreed. “Now that I have told you my story, tell me why I am here now instead of at Xia where I can be telling this to the Shadowed One in person, as I am certain that our leader would want to hear my report directly from the source.” Syala grinned, rather smugly in Raider’s opinion, and said, “The Shadowed One has asked me to give you your new mission once you have informed me of the Shika Nui situation.” “What?” Raider demanded with wide, shocked eyes. “What do you mean my new mission?” “I mean that the Shadowed One’s spies have recently reported something strange happening on the island of Tanjo Nui, not too far from here, actually,” she answered sharply, placing the stone on the table and leaning back a little, as though relaxed. “According to the spies, the guardians of the Time Stone – which is Tanjo Nui’s most sacred treasure, you know – have gone missing, and so has, according to the rumors, the Time Stone itself. The Shadowed One – whom you know has held a great interest in the Time Stone ever since he learned about its existence – wishes to know more about the situation, but knows that we Hunters are not treated kindly on Tanjo Nui and also knows that if anyone else were to land there, they would be slain immediately. Thus, he asked me to tell you that he wishes for you to go to Tanjo Nui and figure out what happened to the Time Stone and its guardians and then report back to him once you are finished.” “I will not,” Raider snapped angrily, slamming his fist on the table again, this time causing a small crack to appear where his fist had smashed it. “I wish to see the Shadowed One personally. I know how much he has desired the Time Stone, but the Shika Nui situation is far, far more important. Shika Nui was one of our greatest island bases; we can recapture it with the right amount of troops lead by a good leader.” By a ‘good leader’ he meant himself, of course, though Syala didn’t appear to catch that. “But you have already told me everything about the Shika Nui situation there is to know,” Syala replied, eyes glinting maliciously in the glow of the light stone. “Haven’t you? I will simply repeat what you told me to the Shadowed One and he will decide the best way to act on this information. And you, being under his leadership, will obey his commandments without question and go to Tanjo Nui immediately.” “You scheming little snake,” Raider hissed. “The Shadowed One holds me in higher esteem than you. If I disobey his orders to inform him of the Shika Nui situation – and by the way, this mission was considered top secret, which shows how much he believed in its importance – then it will not matter whether I followed orders or not. As you said before, what the Shadowed One says goes.” “But I suppose, in all of your arrogant boasting, you weren’t listening, were you?” asked Syala, who seemed to be enjoying tormenting him like this. “The Shadowed One told me to learn all that there is to know about the Shika Nui situation from you, then relay the information directly to him, and after that send you off to Tanjo Nui. Those were his exact orders and he expects you and me to follow them.” “There is still much more to be told about the Shika Nui situation!” Raider protested. “I have only told you the bare bones of what happened there, Syala. The Shadowed One needs to know everything – and I mean everything – that happened there, and I am the only one who can tell him about it all.” “What prevents you from telling me about it?” she asked. “As I said before, the Shadowed One gave me the job of finding out what happened there from you so I can relay it to him. That is what he said. That is what I intend to do. You can tell me everything you know, I’ll tell the Shadowed One, and then you can go to Tanjo Nui and figure out what happened to that pretty little stone of theirs.” Raider was trembling in anger, but he realized she did have a point. As much as he would love to have the honor of being the one to recapture Shika Nui for the Dark Hunters, he realized that what the Shadowed One said was law, at least among the Hunters, and should be followed without question. And if what she says is true, he would have to tell her everything he knew, regardless of his personal feelings, and then head off to Tanjo Nui. He hated her with a fiery passion right now, but the Shadowed One had done similar things in the past by having other agents take information from those on missions to be relayed directly back to him, so perhaps he was doing this sort of thing now, meaning Raider’s anger and disbelief were unnecessary. So, after taking a deep breath, Raider told Syala the whole truth about the Shika Nui situation for at least an hour; what happened there, what he suspected might be happening right now. He was exhausted, but he kept himself awake knowing that what he was telling her now was important for the Dark Hunters as a whole. Syala, meanwhile, took notes as he spoke, probably for future reference, he thought. Once he finished, Syala looked back up from her notes, with no discernable expression on her face, and said, “Is that all?” “Yes,” said Raider hoarsely. He was beginning to feel thirsty and thought about getting a long drink of water at one of the all-night Steltian bars once the meeting was over. “I have left nothing out. If you are indeed going to tell the Shadowed One what happened, then I have no reason to hide anything from you, for hiding anything from you would, in this situation, mean I am hiding something from the Shadowed One. I am quite aware what the price for greed in the Dark Hunters is, for I helped write that law.” “Well, then,” said Syala as she rose from her seat. She pointed at the door behind him and said, “If that is all there is for you to tell me, then your presence here is no longer necessary. Go, and I shall send the Shadowed One a message tonight with everything you have told me.” “Fine,” said Raider, standing up and wiping the dust off his armor. He pulled his dark cloak over himself and said to her, “I never enjoy conversations with you, Syala, so the faster I get out of here, the happier I’ll be.” “And I you, Raider,” she replied, without sarcasm. Raider, feeling slightly better, turned and began walking towards the door. What he really wanted to do was find an inn to spend the night before beginning his journey to Tanjo Nui. Though he was much more resilient and physically stronger than the average Dark Hunter, he had been through a lot in the last week or so and felt like taking a nice, long rest. After all, the Time Stone and its guardians were missing; chances are he would not be able to locate them all in one night, especially in his current exhausted state. Right before leaving, he paused and looked over his shoulder. Syala was no longer there; she had vanished, most likely to send the Shadowed One his message. Raider wondered briefly if she might have been lying, since the Shadowed One hadn’t told him about this arrangement before he left Odina a week and a half ago. But then he decided she probably wasn’t, otherwise there wouldn’t have been a need for all of this secrecy in the first place. So he finally left, passing the two guards, who merely grunted as acknowledgement that he was leaving. He clutched the cloak tightly around himself, feeling confident. The mission he had just been given was right up his alley. He figured it would probably involve a lot of stealth and eavesdropping, maybe even a little bit of thievery as well, all of which he was very good at. Things like this made him feel better about himself, even if he had gotten the mission from someone like Syala. He decided he would simply complete the mission as quickly and efficiently as possible just to spite her. His eyes sagging, Raider headed for the nearest inn. He was going to need some rest before the mission. After what he’d been through, he figured he deserved it. Review Topic

Chapter 30: In Memoriam What would life have been like, I wonder, if Nastan were still alive today? Akuna wondered, sitting on top of the highest tower of Koro Nui, her legs swinging off the battlements in the cool wind that blew. If he had survived . . . if Hajax hadn’t killed him . . . Then maybe this would feel more like a victory rather than . . . rather than a defeat. It had been about a week since Nastan’s death. She remembered how Jokao and Oggak had emerged from the mine near Ironos, heavily wounded but still alive, with Barilo’s corpse in tow (much to Akuna’s horror). They had explained all about the conflict between Hajax and Barilo over control of the latter’s body; how Barilo had repeatedly requested for the two to kill him; and finally, how Oggak had been forced to kill him. Akuna didn’t hate Oggak for this (at least, not anymore than she did, anyway). If their story was true, Oggak had had no choice but to kill him. Still, Barilo had been a good friend of hers and to see him dead just after discovering Nastan was dead had hit her pretty hard. As for what happened when they had returned to Koro Nui with the news of Hajax’s and the Tuikas’ deaths, there hadn’t been a huge celebration held, like she had expected there to be. Though the Matoran were all glad and relieved to hear that they would no longer have to hide in the fortress, knowing that every day could be their last, they held a solemn double funeral for Nastan and Barilo, both of whom had been buried alongside Addis and Nonzra in the proto forest. The funeral had been difficult for her to get through. Half the time she wanted to be back in her room in Koro Nui, to be alone in her misery. Somehow, she had found it much easier to battle a group of potential universe destroyers than to attend a funeral, even (or perhaps especially) a funeral for the one she had loved the most. Still, she had given the eulogy and had buried Nastan with some help from Chimoy and the Ta-Matoran Dusa. Then she helped Chimoy bury Barilo, which had been almost as equally hard to do as burying Nastan. After that, Turaga Joha began making plans for re-colonizing the rest of the island, starting with Ironos. Some Matoran were already living there now; Akuna had personally led a group of about two or three dozen villagers to start the rebuilding. Right now, she knew that the Dark Hunter named Igici was at the settlement, overseeing the reconstruction of the village. She was grateful for that. She needed time alone to think and mourn Nastan and Barilo, even if it had a week after their deaths. Her thoughts drifted to Kigin, who had left Shika Nui almost the day after the defeat of the Tuikas. He had built a small boat out of whatever bits and pieces of wood he could find and had set off immediately. He had stayed long enough, however, to tell them that he was leaving for Odina, the main base of the Dark Hunters, since he still considered himself a member of that organization. Akuna didn’t mind, since she had never liked him much in the first place, though she sometimes wondered where Kigin was now and whether he had yet to reach yet Odina or not. She would also wonder if Kigin would return leading an army of Dark Hunters, but she hoped not. Perhaps he will be stationed on another island somewhere far away, Akuna thought, peacefully breathing in the cool winter air, the gelidness not bothering her at all. Maybe we’ve all earned his respect now and the Dark Hunters will leave Shika Nui alone for a while. Or maybe I’m being too optimistic. Whatever. Chimoy had rested up for the first half of the week, but was now up and working, despite his injuries. Telka the doctor had tried to make him rest, but he had insisted that his power over metals was needed for the re-colonization of Shika Nui and so was now working, she knew, in Ironos. She half-wished he had stayed in Koro Nui; she missed him and felt terribly lonely in here, since they were the last surviving members of the Toa Shika and all. Of course, they were not the only Toa left on Shika Nui. Jokao and Oggak were still hanging around, helping as much as they could with the re-colonization process. Jokao, however, could not do much, since he had been severely wounded in his battle with Hajax and was now resting in his room in Koro Nui. Telka had said that, so long as he didn’t overexert himself, he would recover, though probably wouldn’t be able to walk ever again considering the damage done to his legs unless they could get him new ones. That made Akuna feel slightly happy; he was still alive, at least, even if he would lose the ability to walk. As for Oggak, Akuna only saw her now whenever she visited Ironos. Oggak was helping clear rubble and debris for the Matoran and had personally taken care of the corpses of the Tuikas. What she had done with them was unclear to Akuna, though she suspected that Oggak might have dumped them in the ocean, for she remembered seeing the Toa of Shadow return from the direction of the sea shortly after taking the bodies with her. Akuna also wondered if Oggak felt lonely without Jokao, since the Toa of Shadow was currently camping out in Ironos with the Matoran and Igici. She decided that Oggak must’ve thought helping the Matoran was more important than being with Jokao right now, which she supposed made sense. But she couldn’t know for sure. She remembered, too, how Oggak had gone back to the mines after Nastan and Barilo’s funeral and returned a few hours later covered in dirt. When Akuna had asked her where she had gone, Oggak had said she had buried the Matoran named Kavi and his pet Fryke, Ramoth, in the mines out of respect. This struck Akuna as very strange, since according to Oggak and Jokao Kavi and Ramoth hadn’t been very friendly towards the two Toa when they had first encountered them about two weeks ago. Although she supposed that, since Kavi and Ramoth had apparently saved Oggak’s life when Hajax had kidnapped her, they did deserve a proper burial, however unkind they may have been towards Oggak before. Thinking about Oggak inevitably made her think about Nastan and how rude his remarks towards the Toa of Shadow had been. She really did not want to think about whether she trusted Oggak or not, for it always made her think of what Nastan said to Oggak, which even if they were true were rather hurtful things to say. Oggak had made no mention of Nastan’s comments and remarks towards her during the past week and had mourned with them over Nastan’s death when she had learned that he was dead. Her sadness at Nastan’s passing had seemed genuine to Akuna, but she just didn’t know . . . Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, Akuna was surprised to see Turaga Joha walking towards her with a small smile on his face. She remembered that Joha had taken the deaths of Barilo and Nastan hard as well, which made her wonder if that was what he wanted to talk with her about. She really didn’t want to, at least not right now. Their deaths were still too recent, too vivid in her memory for her to want to talk about at the moment, though she thought it would be rude to tell Joha to go away, so she didn’t. “Hello, Akuna,” said Joha, stopping a few feet away from her. “I see you are thinking?” She said, “Yes, Turaga. I was thinking about Nastan and Barilo and . . . and other things as well.” “I see,” said Joha, nodding. “What other things were you thinking about, Akuna?” Akuna, slightly taken aback, said, “Oh, just . . . other things.” But when she saw the way he was looking at her, she added, “Just the events of the past week.” Joha stroke his chin and said, “Yes, a lot has been happening this week. We have all had to work even harder than ever before, but it will be worth it in the end. I have worked for the better part of my life trying to bring Shika Nui back to its former glory, and now that the Dark Hunters no longer control it with an iron fist, perhaps that dream will come true. I never thought I’d live to see the day when Shika Nui would become a sovereign land free of oppression again.” “Free, perhaps, but still in shambles,” Akuna muttered, pulling her legs up onto the stone tower as she turned back to look into the sky. “It will take a long time to rebuild it completely.” “It certainly will, but that does not discourage me,” said Joha brightly behind her. “I have waited 25,000 years for this. I am willing to wait another 25,000, if necessary.” Akuna laughed, which was something she had not done in a while. It felt wonderful, even if it was only for a brief moment. “Well, hopefully it won’t take that long to fix everything.” “Hopefully not,” said Joha in agreement. “With everyone working, I daresay the reconstruction of Shika Nui will go along as smoothly as possible, though it will still take a while before we’re completely back on our feet, I think.” “Turaga, I . . .” said Akuna. She wanted to talk about Nastan now, for a reason she could not immediately identify. She wanted to talk about how life would never go back to normal for her since he had died and how miserable she really was. Yet she didn’t really want to ruin the moment with her troubles, so she shook her head and said, “I guess so.” There was pause, and then Joha said, “You miss Nastan very much, don’t you?” “Yes,” she admitted, turning around to face the Turaga, who hadn’t come any closer since he had arrived. “It’s just that . . . I don’t think my life will ever be the same without him. We’ve been friends for many, many years and were in a real relationship for what, only a week? I loved him more than anyone or anything else in the world, and he loved me back the same way. Just to see him gone like that – without even letting me say one last good bye – it’s just too much for me to take.” “I understand your feelings well, Akuna,” said Joha. “When my team was killed all those years ago, I did not think that I could live with myself. I cared for all of them deeply, especially dear Siso. They did not even get heroic deaths; I remember Serixo being surrounded by three Dark Hunters at once, all of whom had been stronger and faster than he had. When they were done with him, there wasn’t much left to let you know that a Toa of Sonics had even been there in the first place.” Akuna was surprised to hear the merest trace of bitterness in his voice. It sounded to her like he had still not gotten over their deaths, even after 25,000 years. But Akuna could understand this perfectly. She did not know if she would ever be able to forget her sad feelings about Nastan, Addis, Barilo, and Nonzra, especially Nastan. It just seemed an impossible thing to do, to forget about the sorrow you felt when a loved one – or multiple loved ones – died. At this moment, Akuna felt she related to Joha far more than ever before, since they had both suffered the losses of so many dear friends so very quickly. He understood how she felt and she understood how he felt. There was another pause, punctuated only by a chilly wind that blew in from the north, causing Akuna to shiver a little, though Joha appeared completely unaffected. This was not surprising, since he had lived in the cold mountains for 25,000 years and was probably used to the gelid wind by now. She had to admit, however, that she felt a little unnerved to not see even the barest of a reaction from him, since she was used to seeing others shiver when they were very cold. During the silence, Akuna suddenly remembered something that had been very important to Nastan, but wasn’t sure if she should bring it up. It was somewhat personal, and she really didn’t want to get Joha angry with her if she happened to say the wrong thing. But regardless of her own personal thoughts about it, she tentatively asked the Turaga of Stone, “Joha . . . if you are still bitter about the deaths of your teammates, at the hands of the Dark Hunters, then why did you allow Kigin and Death- er, Igici, to help us against the Tuikas?” Joha sighed heavily, his robes swaying in the wind, and said, without looking at her, “The main reason, at first, was because we needed defenders. Those two happened to be the only ones who had survived the Tuikas’ slaughter of the Dark Hunters, so we let them in. At first, that was all I saw them as; expendable fighters who, if they died, would not be considered a great loss to anyone, for who loves or cares for Dark Hunters? No one did, so I did not worry too much about their personal safety. Coupled with my own personal prejudice against the Dark Hunters in general made me distrust them and not wish to grow too close to either of them in case they attempted to stab my back, both literally and figuratively. Yet now, I think, my opinion has changed and I do not think of all Dark Hunters as the evil, power hungry murderers that I have always perceived them as.” “But why would you change your opinion?” asked Akuna, in a slightly heated voice. She was vividly remembering the way Nastan was so open about his distrust for the Dark Hunters and Oggak and wondered how Joha, who had been battling the Hunters for far longer than Nastan, could have ever have changed his mind or how he could have even considered doing such a thing. “Kigin didn’t seem too kind or heroic to me.” “True, Kigin wasn’t very kind to anyone,” Joha agreed. “But I think it would be wrong of me – and you – to assume that all Dark Hunters are the same as him. Igici, who you know better as Death, is actually a very kind, caring soul who fought just as much as Jokao and Oggak to protect the Matoran. Almost Toa-like in some ways, really. It is mainly because of him that I have changed my views regarding the Dark Hunters. Maybe not all Hunters are saints, but certainly not all of them are like Icetraz and those others who slew my team. I do not necessarily trust the organization as a whole, but I do not view them all as the same anymore and am more willing to give individual members a chance now.” “Oh,” said Akuna, who, while not entirely convinced, somewhat understood Joha’s reasoning. “Well, okay. I just thought it was a bit odd that you of all people had come to accept the Hunters. That’s all.” “Indeed, it would seem impossible for someone like myself to ever even care for a Dark Hunter, considering my own personal history with them, but I suppose all people can change,” Joha said, with a slight smile. “Would it be safe for me to assume your own views regarding Oggak haven’t changed much?” “I . . . can’t say,” said Akuna, shrugging. She wrapped her arms around her body in the chilly wind and said, getting to her feet, “I mean I know she isn’t evil. She fought the Tuikas and Hajax, protected the Matoran here, and saved the lives of countless beings by preventing the Tuikas to get her. But I also still vividly remember my past experiences with the Shodios and Kra-Matoran, Turaga, and I think those memories will always taint my view of Oggak. I mean,” she continued, walking past Joha, who turned to look at her as she passed, “I don’t know if I can truly trust her. She kept the true purpose of the Tuikas a secret from us, just because she was afraid we would hate her or dislike her if she told us! Does that mean that she doesn’t trust us? I mean, only people who have a difficult time with trusting others hold secrets like that for so long, right?” “Perhaps,” said Joha. “I think, at first, Oggak had a hard time trusting others. After all, she had betrayed her whole tribe all those years ago and had lived in isolation from the rest of the world in the main base of a secretive organization that for many years did not even allow her to get out of the base every once and a while, living in secret and never really learning how to fully trust someone. So it would seem obvious to me as to why she may have had a harder time trusting us in the first place than she normally would have. But now, I think, she trusts us, because we did not reject her or hate her when the secret was finally revealed. And we, in turn, trust her.” Akuna whirled around and said, pointing sharply at the Turaga, “You mean you trust her. I don’t know if I can safely say whether I do trust her or not because I have so many conflicting feelings. On one hand, I know she isn’t evil and that she never intended to harm any of us by keeping that a secret, but on the other hand. . . .” She sighed heavily and said, in a lower voice, “My own prejudice keeps me from accepting her as a fellow Toa and ally. Ever since Nonzra’s death, I learned to hate those who associated with the shadow, even if they themselves weren’t evil. I don’t know if I will ever learn to trust or even like her.” “Maybe not now,” Joha said, placing one hand on her arm. “But perhaps in the future, you will.” “Maybe,” said Akuna. “I don’t know . . .” “Do you remember what the Three Virtues are, Akuna?” asked Joha abruptly. Akuna, not knowing what this had to do with their current discussion, said, “Of course I know what they are. The Three Virtues are Unity, Duty, and Destiny. It’s what we’ve based our lives around, after all, so I’m not likely to forget it anytime soon, right?” “Correct,” Joha replied. “But note how it starts with unity. You know what unity means; it’s what keeps us together, makes us all a team who work as one to protect the Matoran and honor Mata Nui. So I think if you can keep this in mind – this one tiny word, unity – then perhaps in time you will learn to trust Oggak. Even someone as old as I am must remember it occasionally. Indeed, I would say unity is the main reason I trusted Igici and Kigin in the first place.” Akuna looked into Joha’s eyes, and saw that he seemed to honesty believe what he had just said. Akuna believed in Unity, Duty, and Destiny as well, but she wondered if even the Three Virtues would be enough to help her learn to trust Oggak. It just seemed incredible to think that, after being hunted down, attacked, frightened, and nearly killed by the Shodios for a few days, she was expected to learn to trust a Toa of Shadow, even if this one wasn’t particularly evil like the Shodios had been. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she was capable of doing it. But maybe I should give it a chance, she thought. I mean, Unity is just as important as Duty and Destiny, right? Maybe I should try to stop seeing Oggak as another, wicked, faceless Toa of Shadow and instead try to see her as her own person. Even if I fail, I can at least say I tried. I suppose I would rather be friends than enemies with her, anyway. Nodding, Akuna said to Joha, “Okay Turaga. I think . . . I think I will try to remember unity every time my thoughts become negative towards Oggak from now on. I’ll try to remember that she is a Toa, a hero, not a villain. I’ll try my best to remember that, even if I do fail.” Joha smiled widely at her and said, “That’s good. Unity is always better than disunity, you know. Now come,” he added briskly, walking past her towards the door that led into the fortress itself, “it is chilly out and getting dark. You need rest, for I think we shall be very busy in the coming weeks. We’ll need all the energy we can get.” “Sure, Turaga,” said Akuna. “I’m coming.” Right before she left, however, she turned around to see the setting sun, which was casting an orange-ish red glow over the entire island of Shika Nui. It was the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. She had never taken the time to appreciate just how amazing a sunset was and wished Nastan was here to enjoy it with her. She had the distinct impression that she would be feeling this way a lot over the next few weeks, months, maybe even years. She would always be remembering and mourning Nastan and the others, but she wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing, she told herself. She was going to go out there and help rebuild Shika Nui with everyone else, one stone at a time. It was what Nastan would have done, she knew, and it was what she would need to do herself, no matter how sad she became. Review Topic

Chapter 29: A Hero’s Sacrifice The pain Barilo was now experiencing was growing steadily worse. Though his soul was still vital for his body’s survival, he could already feel Hajax’s spirit going through what appeared to be the final steps to becoming the primary soul of Barilo’s body. The Toa of Gravity had no idea how long that would take, or what would happen to him when that was all over with – would he die? Become a wandering spirit, perhaps, like the ghost known as Wanderer that he had met back in Wyoko? He didn’t know, though he could hazard a guess, since he seemed to be on the thin line between life and death and thought he could catch glimpses of the beyond, though he wasn’t sure if he really was seeing the afterlife or if he was simply going insane. The latter seemed more likely to him. Despite this pain, he realized that Hajax was about to kill Jokao and Oggak. He had heard Hajax repeating the things he was weary of and how Hajax planned to kill the two Toa and he did not like the sound of it at all. Barilo wanted to save them both, even Oggak. Yet he was stuck in a situation where he held no power to stop Hajax. The best he could do was sit back and watch as the Makuta delivered the final blows. And if Jokao and Oggak died, the hope of the universe would die with them. Or so Barilo thought, anyway. He doubted the other Toa Shika – if they were even still alive – would be able to stop Hajax once he was finished with Jokao and Oggak. But then, I am only beating them to the afterlife by a few minutes, Barilo thought bitterly. He tugged at the chains that bound his arms and legs, but it was no use. No matter what he did, he simply could not break them. My very consciousness is starting to become nonexistent . . . I doubt I will live long enough to see Hajax rule the universe. All I can do is sit back and watch as our world tumbles head over heels into oblivion. He didn’t want to give up just yet, though. Something in him prevented him from doing so. He was a Toa, after all, and had been independent and strong-willed when he had been in control of his body. He had been able to stop the Shodios from conquering the universe, all of whom had almost been worse than Hajax. He was a hero, and heroes, he realized, did not give up very easily. The other Shika didn’t give up when Nonzra died, Barilo thought, looking up at the stone ceiling in wonder. They didn’t give up when Addis died. Joha went on even when his entire team was slaughtered right before his eyes, when he was hopelessly outnumbered by hundreds of Dark Hunters and lived each day with the awareness that he could die a horrible death. Jokao, Oggak, and the others didn’t give up when the Tuikas struck. They fought on, even though the odds were strictly against them and lost dozens of people every day to those monsters. And if they didn’t give up in impossible situations like that, then maybe I shouldn’t, either. True heroes don’t give up when the going gets tough; they just get tougher and braver. He glanced at the chains binding his arms and legs. They were not real, physical chains, but merely symbolic representations of his confined state. Likewise, the small, stone room he was jailed in was not real, either. And if they were not real, then perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could free himself. Then he could figure out a way to stop Hajax. But the question was, how? How was going to free himself when he was growing steadily weaker every minute? As far as he could tell, there was no way to break free of his mental prison. So long as he kept thinking like this, the chains, the stone room, would all continue to exist, no matter how hard he may tug and pull at his bindings. That’s the answer, he thought suddenly, a small smile creeping onto his lips. It’s so simple – stop thinking depressing thoughts like I’ve been doing and begin thinking positive. Like, instead of thinking that I am going to be trapped forever, I should be thinking how I could escape . . . how I will escape. This was easier said than done, however, for almost as soon as he thought this the chains seemed to increase in weight and the chamber grew smaller. He tried his best to think positive thoughts and positive thoughts only, but he kept returning to the dark, gloomy, and depressing state of mind that had been his for the past week. How could he ever even think of escaping? he wondered. Was he ever going to escape? What’s the point of doing anything, he asked himself, if it will all just end in my death? Why not just lie down and let things head to their depressing yet logical conclusion? No, he thought defiantly, struggling to sit up, heaving the heavy metal chains off the ground with impossible strength. I will not fall prey to these thoughts. I will escape . . . I will be free! With an almighty roar of strength, Barilo wrenched his arms upward, shattering the chains bounding his limbs. Immediately, the stone room disappeared like a mist, as though it had never existed in the first place, which technically it hadn’t since it had only existed in his mind. Now he was floating above a huge, wide-open green field that seemed to go on forever in every direction, with a bright sun shining down on him in an endlessly blue sky that looked just as eternal as the field below. He was free and this field represented his newfound freedom. Though he was still weak – Hajax’s soul was trying to uproot his spirit and there was no way of stopping it – he felt like he could take on anything now. Even (or perhaps especially) Hajax, he thought. That was all he needed to do; all he could do, was defeat Hajax, even if it meant his own death. He didn’t care. If he died, so be it, so long as Hajax went with him. Then he would be able to rest peacefully, knowing he had helped rid the world of someone as evil as the Makuta of Shika Nui, perhaps making the universe a safer place to live in the process. - This is is, Oggak thought, watching as the energy swirling around the tip of Hajax’s sword grew larger and larger with each passing moment. Once Hajax releases that blast, we’re all dead. She looked at Jokao, who was looking at her now, too. She grabbed his hand, squeezed it tightly, and closed her eyes. True, she could have told him ‘I love you,’ but she figured that sometimes actions speak louder than words, especially in situations like this. Hajax began speaking again at the same time Jokao tightened his grip on her hand. It was a vile sound, the Makuta’s voice, but Oggak knew that soon even the vilest of voices wouldn’t matter to her anymore. Indeed, soon, nothing would matter to her anymore. “Almost big enough,” she heard Hajax mutter. “Nearly there . . . In a few seconds, Toa, you both shall be dead and I shall escape. Your silence is irritating; have you finally run out of annoying Toa clichés to spout at me, as though they would make even the slightest bit of a difference? I suppose, then, it is wise for you to be so quiet, for why would anyone wish to ruin the last moments of their life with pathetic insults and clichés?” She kept her eyes tightly closed and felt Jokao pull her a little bit closer to him, which she didn’t mind. She had lived for 100,000 years, but looking back, she could say that she hadn’t truly lived before. She had been kept on Daxia, like some criminal, for most of her life never allowed to go anywhere off-island even with other members protecting her. And though the Order agents hadn’t hated her, she had only considered a few of them to be true friends. Most just ignored her or were completely indifferent to her presence on the island. She had kept to herself mostly, without anyone to really talk to or share experiences with. It was true that she knew much more about the inner-workings of the universe than most beings did because of her time with the Order, but she didn’t consider all of that very important compared to doing things and talking with the people she cared about. Ironically enough, it had only been when she had arrived on Shika Nui that she had really begun living, at least according to her definition, when she first met and befriended Jokao. True, they had had to fight the Tuikas day and night, with the awareness of death hanging over their heads all the time, but at least she had met someone she actually cared about and loved very much. That was worth all of the knowledge in the universe, in her opinion. It was for that reason alone that she decided she had no regrets in life. She had at last met someone she loved and was going to die with him. Though she would have preferred it if they could have lived together for a little longer, in different, peaceful circumstances where the threat of the Tuikas no longer hung over their heads like a dark cloud every day, she decided that dying with Jokao was better than dying alone, at least. Mostly out of curiosity, she glanced up at Hajax, just for one last look at her killer before she died. To her surprise, he did not look triumphant, insane, or angry anymore. In fact, he looked to be more in pain than anything. He actually staggered backwards, dropping Oggak’s sword as his hands flew to his head, causing the shadow energy to harmlessly disperse as the blade fell to the ground with a dull clang. “Jokao, look,” she whispered, pointing one battered arm at Hajax, who had fallen on his hands and knees and was gasping for breath hard. “What’s happening to Hajax?” “What?” said Jokao distractedly, looking around. “What do you mean? You mean we’re not dead yet?” “He’s staggered and fallen over,” she said, pointing at Hajax again. “Now he’s acting . . . strange.” Even Oggak had to admit that ‘strange’ was a vast understatement. Hajax was pounding the ground with his fists repeatedly and without stopping, making odd choking noises, and acting as though he was having some kind of fit. Blood was dribbling from his mouth even faster than before, falling off the chin of his Mask of Stealth and onto the ground as he reached for his own throat. Oggak began to feel frightened; what did he think he was doing? Was he trying to scare them or something? If so, it’s definitely working, she thought as she and Jokao pushed themselves a little bit away from the bizarre Hajax, who was now beginning to moan loudly, his face at the ground. Finally, Hajax looked back up at them, hatred and pain in his features, and bellowed, “Stop it!” Oggak and Jokao both recoiled. What was wrong with him? Was he going completely insane now? “You . . . I will not let you . . .” Hajax said, as if he were addressing some invisible figure known only to him. “I will crush you . . . forev- No!” Hajax’s body hit the ground with such force that his mask nearly fell off. Then he rose abruptly to his hands and knees, looking up at Jokao and Oggak with a vastly different expression on his face now than the one had worn before. He looked urgent, with not a hint of the hatred he had worn earlier, though he looked to be in just as much pain, if not more so. “Kill me . . .” he muttered hoarsely, in a voice very much unlike his own. “Kill me now, before he-“ the Makuta shook his head violently and said, in Hajax’s voice again, “I am in control of this body, Toa, not you! Now stop or I’ll-“ Again, he shook his head and actually punched himself hard in the face before looking back at Jokao and Oggak and saying, almost pleading, “It’s me, guys. I-I’m Barilo and he’s st-starting to takeover ag-again! Kill him – kill me – before he . . . before he . . .” Barilo smashed his head into the ground with such ferocity that Oggak was certain he had cracked his skull. But when he looked up, with a battered, nearly smashed Volitak, his eyes were once again that of Hajax’s, who said, in a trembling, weak voice, “D-don’t listen to that fool. His soul is-“ “-Still there!” said Barilo again, changing with such abruptness that it actually caused Jokao to swear quite loudly in surprise. “Don’t worry about me . . . Just strike! Now! Hit me with everything you’ve got before he crushes me completely!” “What the Karzahni is going on?” asked Jokao, who brought Oggak closer to himself, as if to protect her from Barilo. Oggak was confused, too. She remembered Hajax saying that he had crushed Barilo’s spirit long ago, but evidently the Toa of Gravity was still alive, if just barely. She quickly concluded that Barilo’s spirit was battling Hajax’s spirit for supremacy over Barilo’s body, though it was still a frightening scene to behold even with that knowledge in mind. “Don’t kill me,” said Hajax, whom Oggak recognized now because of his voice. “Kill me, and your precious friend Barilo goes, too.” “It doesn’t matter!” Barilo shouted, pounding the ground hard with one of his fists for no discernable reason. “Kill me now! I’m willing to sacrifice myself if it means Hajax’s death! He’s too dangerous to keep alive! And if I have to go, too, then so be-” “Down, weakling,” said Hajax sharply. He grabbed a nearby rock and smashed it into the side of his head, though he didn’t appear to feel it. “Or I shall make you go down!” Meanwhile, Oggak’s – and presumably Jokao’s – confusion just kept mounting higher and higher as the scene progressed. Oggak, despite having studied and talked with many members of the Order over various issues and ideas over the centuries, had never heard of two beings sharing a body like Hajax and Barilo were. As far as she knew, nothing like that had ever happened before, so she was unsure if there might be a way to save Barilo while killing Hajax, though it seemed unlikely to her, otherwise Barilo would probably have told them about it by now. “What do we do, Oggak?” Jokao asked her over the shouting and arguing between Barilo and Hajax. “Do we kill him, or-?” “I don’t know,” said Oggak, trying her best to keep her head. It was deeply disturbing watching Barilo/Hajax beat himself up in an effort to get rid of the other and even more so, somehow, to hear both of their voices coming from the same body. She took a deep breath and said, “Nothing like this has ever happened before, I think. The Order has no documents about this, nor have any agents ever reported seeing something like this on any of their missions. So I can’t say what we should do, Jokao.” “Don’t wait!” Barilo roared as he threw himself to the side hard, crashing into Ramoth’s corpse with enough force to cause his cracked Kanohi to fall off his face. “Please, just kill me! It’s growing increasingly difficult to keep him down and I can’t do it much longer!” Jokao and Oggak rose unsteadily to their feet, still watching Barilo with frightened and confused eyes. While Oggak would have had no qualms with killing Hajax, she was not sure if she had it in her to kill Barilo, too. Killing Barilo’s body would probably get rid of Hajax for good, she thought, but Barilo himself would apparently die, too. She could not say she had it in her to kill a fellow Toa, even one she barely knew. She glanced at Jokao, who looked as disturbed and unsure as she felt. “Do you think-“ “He says he wants us to . . .” said Jokao, with a shrug. There was no need to finish the sentence. “But I’m not sure if I should or if you should. I really would prefer it if we didn’t have to do it at all, but-” “Kill me, and I will haunt your dreams for the rest of your long, miserable lives!” Hajax bellowed so loudly that Oggak started. “Now, Barilo, stop. You are clinging to the last bits of your life. It is only through your sheer, stubborn willpower that I have yet to crush your pathetic spirit like the weak insect it is!” Hajax lashed out with his leg, which connected with nothing, and said, in Barilo’s voice, “Not yet, Makuta! The game’s over. It will be either Oggak or Jokao who will finish us, taking you with me!” “But we can’t just kill you,” said Jokao to Barilo, his voice heavy with emotion. “That’s-“ “-the only way to take out Hajax for good,” Barilo finished for him. He closed his eyes hard, but opened them abruptly and said, in as calm a voice as he could muster, “This is the only way to stop him. I have realized this. I don’t care if I die in the process; so long as you take him out, I’m fine. Just hit me with everything you got now and no holding back!” “We can’t,” said Jokao hopelessly, the tips of his fingers rubbing his forehead, obviously frustrated. “We’re your friends. We can’t just kill you like that.” “He’s right,” said Oggak, nodding. She noticed her tone was different; heavier with emotion than before, though she ignored it. “There’s got to be a way to save you.” “I’m afraid there isn’t,” the voice of Makuta Hajax echoed from Barilo’s mouth. “He will be crushed and my spirit shall reign supreme!” “No, you won’t!” Barilo shouted and then he suddenly screamed in pain, so loudly that Oggak and Jokao actually had to cover their audio receptors to avoid damaging them. Barilo looked at the two Toa and said, “Do it! Kill me! I’m going to die anyway, so just get it over with already. I can’t . . . I can’t last much longer than I already am. I’m fading . . . please do it now. The universe itself depends upon you . . .” “Fine!” snapped Oggak, tears in her eyes, and now unable to control her emotions. She raised her hands immediately and said, “Forgive me, Barilo!” before firing twin bolts of shadow at him that flew straight and true towards their target. The shadow bolts passed through Barilo’s chest as if it was water, leaving a dark gaping hole where his heart should have been, shattering his heartlight instantly. He then screamed loudly, painfully, for several seconds in both the voices of Barilo and Hajax before falling to the ground in a pool of his own blood. He was no longer moving; he was undoubtedly dead. There was no way anyone could have survived that. She had put all of her power into those last two bolts of shadow, which would have been enough to kill anyone who wasn’t shadow-resistant. “Barilo . . .” said Jokao softly, tears flowing out of his eyes and onto his feet, though he appeared not to notice. “It’s the only thing I could have done,” said Oggak, wiping the tears out of her eyes. She didn’t understand her feelings; she hadn’t known Barilo very well, so why had it been difficult for her to kill him and why was she crying now, too? “There was no other way, otherwise, I think he would have . . . would have said so.” She looked down at her hands. They felt filthy now; she had killed another being, just like that. Though she had never followed the Toa code like Jokao or any of the Toa Shika, she had never actually killed anyone before herself. As a Matoran, she had been the Chronicler of the Kra-Matoran Empire, so had been exempt from fighting in the army. On Daxia, both pre- and post-Toa transformation she had never killed anyone there, either. She had known beings that had killed, but had never thought to ask them how it had felt doing the killing and hadn’t done much thinking or research on the subject itself, either. Oggak looked at Jokao, whose eyes were still focused on Barilo’s corpse. She wondered if he hated her now. After all, he had been friends with Barilo and was obviously sad about the Toa of Gravity’s death. She had been the one who killed Barilo, too. Would Jokao hate her now, or at least love her a lot less? She sincerely hoped not because if he did she didn’t know what she would do with herself. The only way to know for sure was to ask him, she decided, however difficult or awkward it may be. “Do you hate me?” she asked quietly, “for killing Barilo, I mean. I didn’t want to do it, but since you weren’t acting, I-“ “I don’t hate you, Oggak,” Jokao interrupted, looking back at her, though she thought his eyes looked a little colder than before. “Barilo wanted to die because it was the only way to kill Hajax for good. I can’t say that I liked it, but my love for you has not wavered in the least, Oggak. You know that.” “But why?” asked Oggak, unable to stem the flow of questions that had burst from her mind. “Why don’t you hate me? Hadn’t he been your friend? I killed him, after all. Doesn’t that mean-“ “It just means you did what you had to do,” said Jokao firmly. He groaned. Oggak remembered his wounded legs. She was surprised he was standing up for as long as he was without support of any kind. “I mean . . . look,” he added, his eyes back on Barilo, “I feel sad for him now. I suppose I can’t say I liked Barilo as much as the others, but I also can’t say that you killing him hasn’t rattled me a little. I just never thought you were capable of . . . you know, killing others like that.” “Well, I really, really didn’t want to do it,” said Oggak, shaking her head. “I mean, it just sort of happened. I let my emotions get the best of me and acted without even letting him get a chance say good bye to us. But if I had hesitated for even a minute longer I think Hajax would have crushed his soul for good. And who knows what happens to souls when they are destroyed? I just couldn’t think of something as bad as that happening to . . . to Barilo and . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Kavi and Ramoth, both corpses lying near Barilo. She knew how weak her justifications sounded, how she almost seemed to be trying to make light of her killing another intelligent being like that. It disgusted her and made her wonder if she really was any different than the Shodios. She knew she was, but for some reason, at this moment, she really didn’t feel much different from them at all. It was a deeply disturbing feeling that made her feel extremely uncomfortable. “I understand, I guess,” said Jokao, one hand on Oggak’s shoulder. She looked up at him; he was still not looking at her. “I mean, I guess Barilo’s a little better off now than he was before. He was a brave Toa and his sacrifice will help to make the universe a slightly safer place, I think. He wanted that to happen because he knew that was the only way to save not only us, but the universe as a whole as well. Let me reiterate, Oggak, that I still love you with all my heart. I hold no bitter feelings towards you at all.” “Okay,” said Oggak, who really didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I agree, though I just don’t understand why I feel this way when I am . . . when I didn’t know Barilo all that well. I didn’t think I would be feeling so sad afterwards. It just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.” “It’s because, Oggak, - and I know this is going to sound cheesy, so bear with me – I think you have a big heart,” said Jokao with a small smile, now looking at her. “You care a lot for other people, even those you don’t know. I mean, you can be pretty vicious towards your enemies and all that . . .” He laughed there. “But you are overall a good person. That is why you feel so sad despite not knowing him. You care for others very much. That’s all.” Oggak really didn’t want to think about or discuss this anymore. Every time she did she felt even worse than before. Somehow not even Jokao’s encouragement made her feel any better, though she admitted she appreciated it just the same. “Look, I think we should bring Barilo’s body back to the surface now, to prepare it for burial,” she said, gesturing at the corpse. “And later, I think, Kavi and Ramoth.” “What? Why them, too?” asked Jokao in surprise. “Because they saved me from Hajax, in a way,” said Oggak. She had just realized this now, but it made sense to her. “Because they appeared at the moment that they did, they gave me the opportunity to fight back. They had done it inadvertently, perhaps, but they had helped me just the same. We should . . . I think Kavi would have wanted to be buried underground, maybe even here in this mine, I don’t know. We can do that later, right after we bury Barilo.” “Okay,” said Jokao, though he didn’t sound entirely enthusiastic about the idea. “Well, I think you’ll have to do most of the carrying, Oggak. My legs still haven’t healed up, though I could help a little, I guess.” “That’s fine,” said Oggak, nodding. “In your present state, I don’t expect you to help. Just stay by my side until we reach the surface, okay? It’s going to be a long climb, but I think we’ll make it, just like we always have.” Review Topic

Chapter 28: Reunited at Last Igici, also known as Death, swung his sword at Skik, but the Tuikas swiftly dodged it and then shot a beam of energy at him. Igici deflected it with his sword and jumped backwards to dodge a slash from Skik. Panting hard, Igici fired a lava ball at Skik, but one blast of disintegration from the leader of the Tuikas destroyed it completely. I can’t keep this up much longer, Igici thought wearily, lifting his sword to block another vicious swipe from Skik. Unless I get some help soon, I’m a goner. Skik tried to hit him again, but Igici managed to dodge it and clumsily thrust his sword at him. But it was pointless, for the next moment, Skik grabbed the sword and snapped it in half, causing Igici to stumble backwards in surprise, caught off-guard by this unexpected move. Skik struck again with another devastating blow, sending Igici flying a few feet. He crashed into the ground hard, his breath ragged, though still conscious. Igici was actually surprised that Skik was lasting as long as he was. Skik had already suffered two wounds to the chest area and had blood splattered all over his armor. Yet he was still fighting as though he had just woken up from a good, long nap. Igici didn’t have the time to wonder about the Tuikas’ stamina, however, for Skik was flying towards him at top speed, screeching loudly as he drew ever closer. “Today the Tuikas have won!” Skik shouted, blooding pouring out of his chest as he flew. Igici had no strength left to raise his arm and try to shoot Skik out of the sky. So he merely lay there, waiting for the moment when Skik’s claws would sink into his chest and rip out his heart. He had been expecting to die someday, but he wished he could have lived a little longer to someday return to his people back on Niji. He supposed they wouldn’t want him back anyway, since he sold them to the Dark Hunters in the first place. Perhaps it would be better to die here after all like the traitor he was. But then all of a sudden, a lightning came almost out of nowhere and struck Skik in the side, sending him spiraling off course and into the ruins several feet away from where Igici lay, crashing loudly in the debris. Who did that? he wondered, looking in the direction that the bolt had came from. He soon discovered the source of the attack: It was Akuna, with Kigin at her side, running towards him, their weapons raised high as they yelled. He felt his spirits rise; perhaps he really wouldn’t have to die. Maybe they stood a chance of survival after all, if Akuna and Kigin were still alive. He hadn’t been so sure about their status, so absorbed he was in his own fights. But at least they weren’t dead, and that was all that mattered now. Of course, killing Skik matters as well, Igici thought as he forced himself to rise to his feet, panting hard and leaning on a large piece of debris. Wonder how he is. That crash looked pretty painful to me. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Skik rise out of the pile of rocks he had been buried under, shake his head as though to clear his senses, and then, growling with rage, shoot towards him, moving faster than Igici had ever seen him move before. Skik was going too fast for the ex-Dark Hunter to dodge. In seconds the Tuikas would be upon him. Igici knew he wouldn’t survive a direct hit from Skik at such extreme speed. But he was not about to die today. He had been through too much, both before and after joining the Dark Hunters, to die right now. He still had so many things to deal with; so many problems and conflicts he hadn’t resolved in his life. To just die, leaving them unresolved like that . . . well, he didn’t like it. It left a bad taste in his mouth, one he wished to replace with a better taste. So, raising his broken sword to shoulder level, Igici shot a ball of lava at the oncoming Tuikas. Unable to dodge it, Skik flew straight into the lava ball and burst into flames. Screeching in pain, the leader of the Tuikas swerved out of Igici’s direction and crashed into a nearby crater, sending up a huge wall of flames that reached for the sky, like the claws of some fiery behemoth attempting to free itself from its burning prison. And as far as Igici could see, Skik was not going to be getting up for a long time, if ever, for he neither saw nor heard movement from within the fiery pit from which smoke billowed into the air. “We did it!” shouted Kigin as he and Akuna approached from behind, startling Igici, who had briefly forgotten that they had been coming to him. “They’re all dead! Every single one of the Tuikas – they’re all dead! We killed them all!” “Really?” asked Igici, glancing around curiously. He did not see any of the other Tuikas up, so he assumed Kigin was correct. “They’re all dead?” “Yes,” said Kigin, his voice filled with savage triumph. He raised his arms towards the heavens and said, “Can you see any of them in the sky, flying above us, taunting us, trying to scare us with their big blades and sharp teeth? Not anymore! We are free now. It shows that, even when all others fall, the Dark Hunters will always rise up as the champions and conquerors of the universe!” “Er, right,” said Igici, nodding, though he wasn’t so sure he agreed with Kigin. Mostly, he just felt relieved that the entire thing was now over. He wondered briefly if he would be able to return to Niji soon when he suddenly realized that Akuna was frantically searching the debris for something. “What are you looking for, Akuna?” he asked her. She didn’t respond. Instead, she just began searching even harder than before, kicking over stones or blasting debris apart with her lightning powers. He had no idea what she was looking for, but then he heard a groan somewhere nearby and, glancing over his shoulder, saw Chimoy rising slowly and painfully out of the ruins, looking battered and half-dead. In fact, Igici was quite surprised to see Chimoy even still breathing. He had thought that the Toa of Iron might have died because of all the injuries he had sustained earlier in the fight. Akuna, apparently also aware of Chimoy, ceased her digging and ran over to him. She quickly caught the Toa of Iron before he fell and asked, in a soft yet urgent voice, “Are you okay?” “No,” Chimoy gasped, one of his hands over the now-dried up wound in his abdomen. “I’m n-not. But thanks for a-asking anyway.” Igici quickly ran over to help, but as soon as he put his hands on Chimoy’s arm, Akuna quickly let go, said, “Thanks,” to Igici, and then ran off to find whatever it was she was looking for again. Igici, taken by aback by her quick movements, almost let Chimoy fall to the ground before doubling his grip on the Toa of Iron. He then gently led Chimoy over to a fair-sized rock, which the Toa sat down on, his breathing hard and ragged, with his hands on his knees and his eyes closed, as though he were thinking. “Thanks,” Chimoy muttered, without looking up at Igici. “Don’t mention it,” said Igici, looking at Kigin, who still seemed to be basking in their victory. “We are the best!” Kigin roared, swinging his mace rapidly through the air as he spoke. “The Tuikas believed they could destroy the Dark Hunters, but they fell to our might! While they lost all of their warriors, we lost only-“ “Nastan!” shouted a frantic, panicking voice. “Yes, we lost- Huh?” said Kigin, looking curiously in the direction of the voice. “Who said that?” Igici and Chimoy both looked in the same direction as Kigin and saw Akuna, digging frantically in a pile of rocks nearby, looking frightened and hysteric. Igici now realized what she had been so desperately been seeking; Nastan. Igici remembered seeing Hajax – or Barilo who claimed to be Hajax, anyway, he wasn’t really sure – toss Nastan somewhere in that direction before Akuna and the others arrived. He had completely forgotten about the Toa of The Green until this moment, and judging by the looks on Kigin’s and Chimoy’s faces, so had they. “We’ve gotta help her,” said Chimoy, trying to rise to his feet. Igici tried to make him sit down, since he didn’t seem to be in any condition to walk, but the Toa merely shrugged him off and began walking towards Akuna. “She might’ve f-found Nastan.” “You mean that Toa of The Green?” asked Kigin, frowning as he joined Igici and Chimoy in walking towards the frantically digging Akuna. “Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about him. I thought he must’ve run away or something-“ “You don’t know Nastan very well, then,” Chimoy replied. Igici was amazed at the way he was able to walk and speak like that with such a bad wound that was surely causing him intense pain. “Nastan is always the first in a fight and is usually the last standing. If anything th-thing, I am quite surprised that you didn’t run away, Kigin.” “Dark Hunters never run away unless they absolutely have to, Toa,” Kigin snapped. “We do not fall on our knees and worship whoever happens to appear more powerful than us. If that was true, the Brotherhood would have won their war with us long, long ago.” “Besides, not all Dark Hunters are cowards, Chimoy,” Igici added. “I don’t care enough to argue with you two about whether Dark Hunters are cowards or fighters,” said Chimoy dismissively, shaking his head. “We’ve gotta help Akuna. Nastan n-needs our help.” But, as it turned out, once they had finally reached Akuna, she had already managed to clear most of the rubble away and was already pulling a large blue-ish green colored thing out of the hole she had made in the debris. Finally, after much tugging and heaving, she had managed to get Nastan out and pulled him a few feet away from the hole before stopping. For a split second, she looked happy, if somewhat worried as she looked at Nastan. That only lasted a moment however. Next minute she was bawling her eyes out, crying so loudly that the other three jumped at the sudden and unexpected sound. Her hands were hiding her face, though they did nothing to stifle the earsplitting noise she was making, nor disguise the tears running down the side of her face and onto the ground. Just one look at Nastan told Igici exactly why she had hidden her face in her hands and was crying so hard. Nastan was nearly unrecognizable. His armor was cracked and totally crushed in several places, many sharp rocks had embedded themselves in his skin, which appeared to be the cause of the immense amount of dried blood that covered his armor, and his mask was split straight down in the middle and slightly flattened, as though a heavy rock had been sitting on it for an extended period of time. His arms and legs were bruised and flattened in many places, making his limbs look as though they were part of the pavement itself. Even with all of these injuries, one might have been able to believe that Nastan was still alive, albeit very badly injured. But one glance at the Toa of The Green’s heartlight said otherwise. It was fractured, almost completely broken, and a dead gray color. He was, without a doubt, dead, meaning all Akuna had managed to dig up was the corpse. “Why . . .” Akuna sobbed, her tears streaming between her fingers. “Why did he have to die? Why? Why?” Igici glanced at Chimoy, who at first looked shocked. But then the Toa of Iron began sobbing, though not nearly as hard as Akuna. There were groans of pain mixed in with the sobs, since the wound in Chimoy’s abdomen was still hurting. Kigin, however, seemed completely unaffected by Nastan’s death and said, shaking his head, “You Toa are pathetic. Crying won’t bring him back. All it does is make you look like the weak fools you really are.” “Weak, are we?” asked Chimoy over Akuna’s loud crying, evidently trying to hold back his tears now, though failing, for some were still leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “We’re weak because we are mourning the friend we loved and cared for? Because we’re showing compassion? I’m sorry, but I didn’t know that made me weak.” “It does,” Kigin snapped. “And if you want to fight, I’m ready for it.” “This is no time for fighting,” Igici said, quickly getting in between the two before they could trade blows. “Not when one of us is dead. Fight later, if you must . . . but for now, hold your tongues and your swords. Got it?” “Got it,” Kigin mumbled, turning away to look back at the forest. “You always were a goody two shoes, Igici. That’s probably why I’ve never liked you.” Chimoy merely nodded without saying anything, and then broke into renewed sobbing. Igici took a step back to let Chimoy join Akuna, which he did, falling to his knees like Akuna at Nastan’s corpse. The ex-Dark Hunter watched the two Toa crying, but could not say he actually felt the same kind of sadness they were experiencing. It wasn’t that he hated Nastan; he simply hadn’t known Nastan as long as they had, so could not weep with them. All he could do was stand there and watch, not really sure what to do or say, if anything. - If Kavi had been given the ability to wish for anything in the world right now – literally, anything at all – he would have wished that Ramoth was alive and that he and his dear pet Fryke were back in their underground cavern, away from all of the violence that had erupted in this stone chamber. Unfortunately, since Kavi had no access to a genie’s lamp at the moment, he would have to deal with the reality of his situation, however much he detested it. He was currently crouching low behind Ramoth’s huge corpse, watching as the Makuta known as Hajax battled the Toa of Shadow called Oggakia. They were trading blows so fast that Kavi had a hard time keeping track of who was shooting at whom and often he had to duck to avoid having his head blasted into a million pieces by a stray – and sometimes deliberately aimed – shadow bolt. Kavi had no desire for either of them win. He hated both of them, Hajax for killing Ramoth and Oggak for simply being a Toa of Shadow. But if he had to choose, he would say Oggak, for he had to admit, she did not seem to be nearly as bad as the Shodios, so perhaps he would survive should she manage to finish Hajax. Of course, the ideal ending for this battle would be for both of them to kill each other, Kavi thought, both hands over his head as he crouched as low as possible behind Ramoth’s corpse. Then I can return to my underground home, though I will be very lonely. Perhaps I can try to tame one of the many blade burrowers that live here; they shouldn’t be too difficult after Ramoth. Still, I don’t think any Rahi will ever be able to replace Ramoth for me. Of course, in order to tame a blade burrower, he would have to survive this battle, and right now, he knew that if one stray bolt hit a weak spot in the mine, the entire place could come crashing down on them. He just hoped the battle would be over quickly, though considering the current progression of the fight that seemed unlikely, for both Hajax and Oggak were obviously good fighters. He glanced over Ramoth’s corpse again and saw a bolt of shadow heading straight for Oggak. He was sure she had no time to dodge it, but to his surprise, she managed to duck as it struck the wall behind her. He then saw her send a bolt of shadow straight towards Hajax. Hajax teleported out of the way – rather unnecessary to Kavi, though he figured the Makuta was just showing off – and then countered with a bolt of his own once he reappeared a few feet away from where he had been standing. This was how the battle was mostly going and why Kavi thought it would only end when one or both of them simply got too tired to continue any longer. They both kept shooting shadow at each other, both kept dodging – it was so boring and predictable. He was slightly confused at why Hajax was not using all of the other powers a Makuta was supposed to have. Though Kavi had never met a Makuta before, he remembered hearing legends and rumors about them and how they had a vast array of powers at their command, besides shadow and shape shifting, and how they could easily crush their opponents under their heels as if they were insects. Maybe he’s afraid, Kavi thought as he crouched low again. Maybe he thinks that if he uses one of his other powers and misses, he might bring the entire place down and not only kill Oggak, but himself, too. That would explain a great deal why he seems to be going easy on her; doesn’t want to die so quickly, especially since he already has plans of world conquest. He glanced at the tunnel that he and Ramoth had emerged from previously. It was very close by, yet he knew that there was a distinct possibility of getting hurt or dying if he was noticed by Hajax if he tried to enter it. But if he managed to make it, then he would be able to return home and lose anyone who might try to follow him. It would be incredibly risky, but then, living underground was always risky, so he decided that it was one risk he was going to take. But he had barely taken even one step forward when a mixture of lava and ice flew over his head and smashed into the wall opposite him, creating a gap hole that burned, yet was icy around the edges as well, giving an eerie unreal look to it. Startled, Kavi fell on his bottom, but quickly glanced over Ramoth’s corpse to find out just who had tried to blow his head off. It might have been Hajax, but something was telling him that it wasn’t even before he saw Hajax and Oggak, standing on opposite sides of the chamber, looking around in bewilderment before another projectile came flying out of the right tunnel and crash in the same spot as before, deepening and enlarging the original hole several times. Kavi wondered who the shooter was when a huge, bulky monster in teal and white armor came lumbering out of the tunnel, its pale eyes scanning the area as it dragged along a large club. Its eyes finally landed on Oggak, who had taken a step back and actually looked a little frightened. Perhaps she knew this . . . thing? Whatever it was, Kavi didn’t like it, mostly because he didn’t know what it was. But based on the way it looked at her, he thought it might not be the friendliest of Rahi in the universe, if that was what it was. “Come here, Sacrifice,” said the creature suddenly, in a soft voice, raising one hand and beckoning Oggak to join him. This startled Kavi, who had assumed the creature was a Rahi incapable of speaking Matoran. “We don’t need to fight any longer. The Great Beings created us so we could fulfill our destiny – and if neither you nor I ever complete it, we will be purposeless beings. The Dividing is a necessity in current times and if you refuse to join us again . . .” “Never!” snarled Oggak, hurling three bolts of shadow at him. “That is not the way I want to be remembered!” But the creature merely raised his club, which seemed to somehow absorb the energy, and threw it right back at her with the force of a hurricane. Oggak managed to get out of the way, but when the redirected shadow energy hit the wall she had been standing in front of, it caused a small tremor. Kavi was beginning to feel panicky. If the cavern caved-in now, none of them would survive, including him. He had survived under here for a while now, but that was because he had been wise and not stupid enough to cause a cave-in even accidentally. Kavi looked for a way out again, but this time saw Hajax raising his sword, which glinted in the feeble glow that the surrounding light stones offered. He saw, on Hajax’s face, an expression of anger and concentration. Even Kavi could tell that one blow in the right place and the monster – who was apparently ignoring Hajax – would fall. Suddenly, the creature whirled around and slammed his club into Hajax’s midsection, sending the Makuta flying. He crashed into the doorway at the other end and did not emerge, much to Kavi’s surprise. He thought Makuta were tougher than that, though he wasn’t complaining. That was one less obstacle to deal with. Maybe he is dead, Kavi thought hopefully. And maybe ‘hope’ is something I abandoned a long time ago. Still, while they’re preoccupied, I’ve got to split. Kavi, still crouching low, began walking towards the left doorway, intending to head as deep into the mines and natural underground tunnels of Shika Nui as he could without being noticed. Then he would wait a long time until he was absolutely certain that no one had came after him and that he was safe from all harm. Without warning, he was sent flying and crashed into the wall opposite him hard. His back felt as though it was both frozen and on fire, causing him pain of the kind he had never experienced before. The pain was so bad, so intense that he wished it would be over with quickly so he could die peacefully. The next moment, he got his wish. Another ball of fire and ice crashed into his back, killing him instantly. - “Stop!” shouted Oggak, horrified, watching as another of Zoil’s projectiles crashed into the Matoran’s back, which seemed to have killed him, for Kavi neither moved nor made any sounds to indicate that he was still alive. “Stop killing him!” “He’s already dead,” said Zoil, raising his club high. “And so will you, very soon, once the Dividing is initiated.” He swung his large weapon at Oggak, who ducked to avoid it. She then blasted him with a wave of shadow, knocking the Tuikas over. She tried to hit him again, but he rolled out of the way and fired a ball of lava ice at her. It hit her straight on, but she took the blast in stride and let it roll off her, though it melted her chest armor badly in the process and inflicted her with excruciating pain. She fell on her back and Zoil was upon her. He brought his club down, but she rolled out of the way just in time as the weapon created a huge crater in the ground. She then swept his legs from under him and, rising to her feet, shot several blasts of shadow at the Tuikas. But it was no good. Zoil merely absorbed them with his club and released them at her again, this time as a far more concentrated blast of energy than before. The attack collided, sending her flying into the stone wall. She hit it hard and slumped in a heap at the bottom of the barrier, breathing hard, feeling the pain paralyze her body as she lay there. She thought maybe her arm was broken, but one jolt of pain later told her otherwise. Still, she could not move, for the combination of the blast and collision with the wall caused her pain that was so great she could not do much of anything at the moment. So she merely lay there and watched Zoil as he rose to his feet, looking enraged now. “If you were not such an essential part of the Dividing, I would have killed you,” said Zoil, pointing threateningly at her. “Of course, if I did that, I would have to kill myself, too, for I would have no purpose in this life without my destiny.” “Go ahead and do it,” Oggak snapped, her breath ragged. “You aren’t improving anybody else’s life right now.” Zoil shook his head and said, “No more talking. You are coming with me, whether you want to or-“ A bolt of shadow went flying out of the back tunnel, striking Zoil in the head. The Tuikas screamed in pain as he staggered to the side, dropping his club in the process. It was followed by a shower of shadow, lightning, and many other things that Oggak could not identify at the moment, all of which hit Zoil dead-on. Zoil did not get a chance to fight back and was driven all the way back to the end of the tunnel. One particularly deadly-looking shadow bolt struck Zoil straight in the chest, sending him falling to the ground with a crash that sent a small tremor through the cavern. He didn’t get up. Oggak, panting hard, looked over in the direction of where the attacks had came from and saw Hajax, injured by furious, emerging from the tunnel. His armor was cracked; the color was faded in many places, but he otherwise looked normal from Zoil’s assault on him earlier, much to her surprise. “No one . . . ever . . . hits me and gets away with it,” Hajax said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “For that, you will die, just like all others who dare fight me.” Oggak looked over at Zoil and was not surprised to see him back on his feet, looking as though he had just been taking a nap, despite the fact his armor was cracked, smashed, or outright gone in many places from all of the hits he had taken. He looked as though he had just emerged from a war, though he did not seem to be showing any signs of pain at all. If anything, he looked amused. “That was barely more than a light breeze, Makuta,” said Zoil, casually dusting dirt off of what was left of his armor. “We Tuikas were designed to withstand most anything. It will take a lot more than that to deal with me.” “Funny, I remember one of yours being pummeled into oblivion by a Dark Hunter,” Hajax snapped, shadow energy now running up and down his sword. “It will take even less to defeat you, I suspect.” Hajax suddenly darted forwards, leaping over Ramoth’s corpse with surprising speed and ability and landing in front of Zoil easily. He then thrust the sword, with blinding speed, into Zoil’s stomach area. The Tuikas choked for a minute as Hajax pulled back, blood coating the blade, a vicious smile on his face as he prepared for another attack. But Zoil, evidently ignoring the pain, sent a fist as strong as stone flying straight into Hajax’s face, sending the Makuta staggering backwards in pain and shock. Zoil advanced, pummeling Hajax with wave upon wave of fists and kicks that the Makuta simply could not dodge or defend himself from. Oggak decided that this was the perfect time to move. While those two were busy beating the stuffing out of each other, she rose painfully to her feet and began heading towards the very end of the tunnel, to the entrance Hajax had used to get in here. She needed to escape quickly and join back up with the others before either Hajax or Zoil noticed her leaving. She decided to bring down the ceiling of this cavern once she was out of it, thus killing Hajax and Zoil in one swift strike. She was halfway towards the end of the tunnel before she was roughly pulled into the doorway of the tunnel Zoil had emerged from earlier. Her first thought was that she had been grabbed by another Tuikas, so she struggled to break free until she heard a very familiar voice whisper, “Oggak! It’s me, Jokao! Stop struggling. You’re safe.” “J-Jokao?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Is that you?” “Yes, it’s me,” he said in a reassuring tone. “I’m here, all right. It’s really me; I’m not a Makuta in disguise or anything else like that. Just good old me.” She pulled back a little to get a better look at him. It was indeed Jokao; the same Mask of Spirit, fiery red and orange armor, and those same eyes she had fallen in love with. The only difference was that there was an obvious layer of dirt and mud covering his armor and he looked very weak, as though he had been running for a long time without resting and seemed to be leaning on her a little for support. She felt slightly worried about him, but mostly relief at the fact that he was here. “Oh, Jokao . . .” Oggak said, hugging him tightly, ignoring the sounds of battle behind her. “I am so relieved to see you . . .” “I’m happy to see you’re still safe, too,” said Jokao, who was, if possible, hugging her even more tightly than she was hugging him. “That alone makes my wandering randomly in these dark tunnels for who knows how long worth every grueling step. For a moment I was afraid that Zoil or Hajax had got you.” She shrugged happily and said, “They’re currently trying to murder each other. They seemed to have forgotten about me, I think.” She smiled at him and he smiled back. For a moment, Oggak forgot that she was covered in dirt, tired beyond any kind of weariness she had ever felt before, and in the middle of a dangerous situation that could decide the fate of the entire universe. Right now, she felt as though she and Jokao were alone, back in Koro Nui, enjoying each other’s company as they always did. It was the most wondrous feeling in the universe, but it was one that couldn’t last, for the next moment, glancing over her shoulder, she saw Zoil go flying past the doorway and heard a loud crash that told her he had just collided with the wall. Fear immediately replaced the passion she had been feeling earlier. If Zoil had lost then it could mean one thing and one thing only: Hajax would likely be after her next. She remembered how he had tried to kill her earlier; she had no doubt that he would attempt to do it again very soon unless they got away in time. “We’ve gotta get going,” Oggak urged Jokao, throwing frightened glances over her shoulder as she tried to push the Toa of Fire along, who seemed to be in a kind of trance and apparently wasn’t taking in a word she was saying. “It looks like Hajax just beat the tar out of Zoil; he probably knows I’m gone, but hopefully he doesn’t know where.” “What?” Jokao said in a slightly dazed-sounding voice. “We’ve gotta get going? Now?” “Yes, now,” she said exasperatedly. “Right now, or else-“ Without warning, the two Toa went flying out of the doorway and into the chamber of the battle. They collided with the wall on the opposite side of the room, then crashed into the ceiling and fell to the ground hard and fast. Both of them were completely out of breath and could barely move, while Jokao was busily cursing under his breath from all of the pain he had just experienced. Oggak painfully raised her head a few inches to see Hajax, battered, bruised, and angry-looking, stalking towards them, Oggak’s sword in hand. He looked almost deranged now; his eyes were popping, a mixture of spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, blood spattered all over his armor, and there was a crazed glint in his eyes as he stood before the two Toa, himself breathing almost as hard as they were. “I have grown weary of your escapades,” Hajax growled, in voice as quiet as a low gust of wind. “I have grown weary of your foolish attempts to defeat me. I have grown weary of patience, of waiting for the right moment to strike. Most of all, I have grown weary of having to hold back, for fear of killing those who would help further my plans. “But now, I will not hold back for anyone. Today, I shall kill you and everyone else on this pathetic island who would even conceive of attempting to stop me, which unfortunately means all of Shika Nui’s inhabitants.” He lifted the sword high as shadow energy began crackling around the tip like lightning. “The minute the entire mine caves-in, I shall simply teleport myself to safety,” said Hajax, now aiming his blade directly at the ceiling. Oggak and Jokao followed the weapon, both breathing harder and faster than ever before as they looked at it. “The day shall come when people everywhere – perhaps even the Great Spirit himself – shall speak of my name in fear and respect. Of course, neither of you will live long enough to hear those voices whisper of my power. Perhaps, if you are lucky, you will stay conscious for a couple minutes more underneath all of the rubble that shall bury you alive, so you, too, will be able to speak of my name and the glory it shall signify in the future.” Review Topic

Chapter 27: No More Kigin swung his mace at Draza, who merely grabbed the weapon before it could hit him and yanked it out of Kigin’s grasp. Tossing the weapon aside, Draza charged at the Dark Hunter, swinging his hatchet madly through the air as he ran. Kigin jumped out of the way, dodging the flying hatchet as it sliced through the stone wall he had been standing in front of. Kigin then sunk a solid fist into the side of Draza’s head, sending the Tuikas stumbling onto the ground. Now was his chance. Kigin raised both fists, ready to crush Draza’s head, but suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. Lowering his fists, he gasped for air, but could not get any. Somehow, Draza had managed to take his air away, but he didn’t have the time to think about how that was possible. So distracted was he by his sudden lack of air that he did not notice Draza was back on his feet before feeling a crushing blow crash in the midsection, sending him flying. He landed with a crunch onto the cracked pavement hard, but fortunately the air had returned to his lungs again, which was all he needed to fight. He was back on his feet instantly, but as it turned out, that was unnecessary. A lightning bolt went flying over his shoulder and struck Draza in the chest, sending the Tuikas, screeching in pain, fall over onto the earth again. Kigin glanced over his shoulder to see Akuna, staff held high, running towards him. But he did not feel gratitude towards her. Instead, he felt indignant, annoyed at the fact that he had been saved by a Toa. True, she had just saved his life, but he could have done it all by himself without her interference, he reasoned. “You nearly hit me!” he snapped as Akuna stopped in front of him, looking as though she were about to ask him how he felt. “I didn’t need your help anyway. I was doing fine on my own.” Akuna, looking irritated, said, “I was just trying to- Watch out!” She grabbed Kigin and pushed him out of the way as a huge slab of rock went flying towards them. They hit the dirt as another large stone went flying; Draza was now apparently tossing pieces of the ruined village at them, and Kigin knew he would eventually hit his targets if they didn’t move. “We’ve got to split up!” said Akuna, as another chunk missed them by inches. “He can’t hit us both if we aren’t next to each other!” “I know!” said Kigin irritably, rolling away from her and onto his feet in an instant. “I know!” Another chunk was flying towards him, but Kigin was ready. He unleashed a blast of sound from his mouth that shattered the stone into tiny pebbles. He then ran towards the Tuikas, dodging more large rocks as they were thrown, though with greater difficulty the closer he got. He glanced to his right and saw Akuna running parallel him, heading towards Draza, who had now stopped throwing boulders and instead was firing blasts of energy at them from the palms of his hands. Kigin ducked underneath a blast and, once within range of Draza, tackled him, sending them both to the ground. He put both hands around Draza’s throat and began choking him, focusing all of his rage and anger on his enemy. He had killed one Tuikas before; he could easily do it again. Kigin then realized that he could not breathe; Draza had taken his air away yet again. But the Dark Hunter didn’t care. He didn’t need air to finish Draza off. He wanted to get it over with, even if it killed himself in the process. Just as Draza’s struggling became weaker, Kigin felt two arms wrap themselves around his waist and suddenly heaving him away from Draza, allowing the air to abruptly return to his lungs. He had briefly forgotten how it felt to breathe and realized that he had actually missed it quite a bit during those short seconds of airlessness he had experienced while trying to kill Draza. But the desire to finish off the beast was still burning deep within him, so he struggled against his captor’s arms, shouting, “Let me go! I’m going to kill him! Let me go, or-“ “Kigin!” shouted a familiar voice from behind him; he recognized it as Akuna’s. He was surprised by this; she must be much stronger than he had originally believed if she could pull him off Draza so easily like that. “There’s . . . no . . . need . . . to . . . struggle! Draza’s dead; look. He’s not moving anymore.” Kigin, struggling less now, glanced down at Draza and saw that the Tuikas was indeed lying motionless on the ground. It filled him with an intense satisfaction to see Draza dead. He felt even better knowing that it was he who had killed him, for the same feeling of power and strength that he had felt when he had slain Arija was arising within him now. However, he knew how tricky Tuikas could be. Draza might just be playing. Kigin would not even so much as conceive of the idea of turning his back on the corpse until he was absolutely certain that Draza was really dead. “Sure, he looks dead, but is he really?” asked Kigin, abruptly halting his struggling to carefully watch Draza’s body. “We should be sure, just in case.” Akuna released him without warning and then walked around him to Draza, her staff at the ready. She was examining the creature’s body, poking it occasionally, and then, looking up at Kigin, she said, “He’s definitely dead. His heartlight is gray and he isn’t moving even slightly anymore.” “Good,” said Kigin, satisfied. He looked around and asked, “Where did that dang beast toss my mace?” “It doesn’t matter,” said Akuna urgently, her eyes scanning the rest of the area. “Look – Death’s fighting Skik all by himself. I don’t see Chimoy anywhere; do you think-?” “I think I would be quite happy if he was dead,” Kigin replied curtly. She shot him an irritated look and snapped, “That wasn’t . . . whatever. We’ve gotta go help Death; he won’t stand a chance against Skik by himself, especially since he already seems to be slowing. Let’s go.” After quickly finding and retrieving his weapon, Kigin and Akuna ran towards the direction of the last two fighters, the Dark Hunter experiencing feelings of anticipation and excitement inside of him as they approached what he knew was going to be the final battle that would determine the fate of Shika Nui. - Zoil carefully traversed the abandoned mineshaft, his audio receptors open for any sudden sounds. He could sense that the Sacrifice was in a fairly deep part of the mines; so deep, in fact, that the ceiling actually seemed to be getting lower to him, so he had to duck a little to avoid scraping his head on the rocks protruding above. But as he rounded a corner, he could hear what sounded like the noises of battle going on in a chamber nearby; the same chamber, in fact, that the Sacrifice seemed to be located in. And if his senses weren’t deceiving him, he distinctly thought that the Sacrifice may actually be participating in the battle, too, though who or what it was fighting was a mystery to him. Regardless of who or what it may be, it shall fall before the righteous might of the Tuikas, Zoil thought as he casually knocked a mine cart aside, sending it crashing into a nearby wall. As long as I live, I shall never allow the Sacrifice to escape, nor let anyone keep me from retrieving it and fulfilling my final destiny. He paused for a moment. He thought he heard someone stumbling along behind him, but as soon as he stopped the sound had ceased. Frowning, Zoil turned around, peering into the darkness while ignoring the sounds of battle up ahead. He did not hear nor see anyone but himself. He wondered briefly for a moment if he had been imagining things, but then remembered that imagination was pointless to a Tuikas. He decided it must be some sort of underground animal scurrying along, which meant he had stopped for no reason at all. Every precious minute wasted is another minute that could have been used retrieving the Sacrifice, he reminded himself, turning around and continuing his trek. And if that Makuta is true to his word, every minute wasted here means that he is every minute closer to killing the Sacrifice. And if that were to happen, I would fail the Great Beings forever. That I cannot allow. He felt something hot and burning strike him, melting his back armor and causing him to scream in pain as he fell to his knees. Ignoring the pain, he turned around as about a dozen or so fire bolts went flying out of the shadows towards him. There was no time to dodge, but he didn’t need to. His club was useful for more than just smashing things to dust, after all. It could absorb elemental energy and fling it right back at its originator. He absorbed each bolt as it came within about ten feet of him and then, his club glowing red like the fire it now contained, he hurled a huge ball of flames back into the darkness. They collided with a wooden mine cart, setting it ablaze and illuminating the rest of the tunnel. He briefly saw what appeared to be a Toa move into the shadows out of his sight as the cart burned. Aha. A Toa – no doubt that Toa of Fire that has been a hindrance to our plans these past few weeks – is following me, Zoil thought. Perhaps he thinks he can rescue the Sacrifice from me. He’s trying to kill me so I won’t get my hands on the Sacrifice. Too bad he will be the one dying today. Zoil raised his club and shot a beam of energy from it, aimed directly at the ceiling. It struck the top hard and immediately caused a cave-in. Rocks and dirt came cascading down on the mine tracks between him and the Toa, blocking the fiery, burning cart from his sight as dust blew in every direction. He raised one arm to protect his eyes from the dust until it had finally settled. Lowering his arm, he now saw a huge wall of rock and dirt before him, totally blocking the exit. He knew that he would probably have to find another way out eventually – for, after all, the Dividing could only occur in the ruined village in the mountains – but at least for now the Toa of Fire could not get through, at least not easily. That meant he had one less annoyance to deal with, though he felt as though the Toa had been the least of his problems. Turning around, he decided that he would show no mercy to the Makuta once he found him. Zoil would simply kill him as quickly as possible and take the Sacrifice back to the mountains, where she would be sacrificed, the Dividing initiated, and the destiny of the Tuikas completed. It sounded almost too easy when put that way, Zoil thought as he resumed walking down the tunnel, the sounds of battle growing increasingly louder and louder with each step. But then, he was sure that he would be able to do it, for destiny was on his side today. That he was sure of. - Jokao stood on the other side of the newly-created rock wall, his spirits falling as he watched the flames burn the mine cart, his shadow flickering on the debris before him. There was no way he could safely remove all of this; he couldn’t melt it, and if he moved one wrong block he would be probably buried alive underneath tons of heavy stones. He hated himself now. He had been getting bored of simply following Zoil around, even though the Tuikas seemed to know where he wanted to go, and had decided that if he took out Zoil now, he wouldn’t have to deal with him later. So Jokao, in his stupidity, had tried to kill the Tuikas with about a dozen fire bolts. The first had hit, but somehow the others missed, or had been redirected, for the next instant a giant ball of flames had came flying towards Jokao. Fortunately it managed to hit the now-burning mine cart instead of himself, but it had been a very, very close miss. Jokao had then thought Zoil would charge at him, but to his surprise, Zoil brought down the ceiling between them. Now Jokao had no way of following him, or even getting to Oggak. It looked as though he would have to head back to the surface, leaving Oggak at the mercy of Makuta Hajax and Zoil. Or find another way around, but who knew how long that would take? It could take hours to find another route, and by that time, Oggak might already be- No, I won’t think that, Jokao thought stubbornly, glancing around the area for another route. She’s not going to be dead. Oggak’s faced far worse than a Makuta and a Tuikas before. She’ll survive. I know she will. He sat down on the ground briefly, groaning in pain. His legs felt as though they had turned to lead and were protesting loudly with every step. Though he knew saving Oggak was his top priority at the moment, he decided that he could sit down for a few minutes before continuing on. His legs really needed the rest, after all. He wondered if they had an infection of some kind, but since he wasn’t a doctor, he didn’t know how to deal with that, if he indeed had one. He almost found himself wishing he had stayed in Koro Nui, in his comfortable bed, allowing Telka to heal his legs. Jokao had really thought for a while there that his legs were getting better and that there was no need to stay in bed any longer, despite whatever Telka had told him. Yet now he knew he was wrong. He knew that he very well might lose them if he continued like this, but he had no choice now. Everyone else is tied up with the rest of the Tuikas, Jokao thought as he rose back to his feet, leaning against the stone wall for support as the flaming cart burned on. I’m the only one who can save her now. No one else is in any situation to. Gotta ignore the pain a little longer, that’s all. He glanced around again and saw a tunnel to his left. When he had been a Matoran, he had done some mining work before being made the leader of the slaves, which pretty much meant he was supposed to break up disputes in case they turned violent, to avoid any unnecessary deaths or injuries. However, despite having lived in Ironos, he had never been inside this particular mine before, so he didn’t know it very well. If he chose the wrong path, he might end up lost forever or at least for a very long time, meaning he might never find Oggak ever again. But he had to take the chance. After all, he reminded himself with a small smile, he had taken a chance when he had gotten together with Oggak. True, trying to save a person’s life was a bit different than starting a relationship with that same person, but, he reasoned, Toa take risks all the time. This would simply be one more. Granted, it was even riskier than most, but it was a risk just the same. And like all risks, he would have to take it, no matter what. So, leaning on the wall for support, he began trekking down the left tunnel, hoping against hope that he would beat Zoil to Oggak and that she would still be alive by the time he found her. Review Topic

The other posters have made a pretty complete list already, but I would like to add Togariku. He wrote a comedy called "My Life with the Bionicles" that was really popular for a while there and is still remembered among some of the older Comedies writers. He was probably one of the more popular Comedies writers for a while there. Unfortunately, he never finished the comedy (which was probably lost in the Dataclysm, unless someone saved it off-BZP before that happened), nor is he active on BZP anymore. No idea what he's up to nowadays or whether he's even still interested in Bionicle. -TNTOS-

Chapter 26: The Clash of Shadows Hajax fired a blast of shadow at Kavi, his eyes gleaming in triumph as he watched the attack draw nearer to the Matoran, who was still too stunned by Ramoth’s death to even try to dodge. He had been looking forward to this, to see Kavi die, ever since he had first met the wretched villager. Now, once Kavi was out of the way, he would have to kill the rest of the Tuikas and Toa and Dark Hunters and begin his conquest of the universe without anyone to stop him. While Kavi was not much of a threat to his long term plans, his desire to kill the Matoran overrode his thinking for a moment. But then, to his surprise, the shadow blast stopped in midair and then suddenly exploded, creating a cloud of darkness that startled Hajax, who took a step back, saying, “What the-?” at the same time Kavi said, “Who-?” But then shadow bonds suddenly materialized around Hajax’s body, which lifted him up and slammed him into the dirt floor repeatedly until he was dazed, though not unconscious just yet. His energy was being sapped, which was a feature of the shadow chains, but he knew he could break them just as easily as though they were made out of sand if he wanted to. However, he was still too taken aback by the sudden attack to do anything but be angry at the moment. “Who dared attack me?” demanded Hajax in anger. “Who?” He looked around and saw Oggak, leaning against the stone wall, standing up, looking both determined and angry. So she had been the one to put the shadow chains around him . . . it made sense. But as he looked into her red eyes, he no longer saw the kind, gentle and quiet Toa of Shadow he had known for the past week. Now he saw a rage in her eyes similar to the kind he remembered Barilo had seen in the eyes of the Shodios. He wondered if she was about to kill him. “Did we wake you up from your nap, Oggak?” asked Hajax in a sarcastic, yet threatening, voice. “Why not go back to sleep? You will not have to deal with nearly as much pain if you do.” “Never,” Oggak snapped in a fiery tone. The shadow chains suddenly constricted. Hajax was beginning to have second thoughts about breaking them now. “I won’t let you get away with your evil plans. I’m a Toa; I may be of the shadows, but I am still under the same obligations that all Toa are, which includes defeating creeps like you and saving Matoran like Kavi from creeps like you.” “Hey!” Kavi said indignantly. “I do not need saving from shadow spit!” “Oh shut up,” Hajax snapped at him. Then, returning his attention to Oggak, he added, “Do you think that, if you kill me, you will ‘redeem’ yourself in the eyes of your friends? If so, I wouldn’t be that optimistic. Toa can be very unforgiving towards those who have deceived them, you know. Especially self-righteous fools like the Toa Shika.” “I don’t care what the others think anymore,” said Oggak, her voice ragged and hoarse. “All I care about is stopping you. So long as Jokao still loves me, I could care less if everyone in the universe hated me and was after my blood.” With a simple shrug, Hajax caused the shadow chains to disappear and got to his feet, wiping dirt off his armor as he locked eyes with the Toa of Shadow. He was impressed she still had it in her to fight, considering what she had just been through. However, if she was going to fight him, he decided, he may just have to kill her. He figured it was pointless to keep her alive anyway, since he didn’t really need the Tuikas to help him conquer the universe in the first place. “So you fight for Jokao, is it?” asked Hajax, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You fight for a Toa who you don’t know even still loves you anymore? Last you saw, he loved you . . . but one of the most amazing things about living beings is how quickly they can change their feelings towards one another without even thinking about it. There is no point in fighting any longer, Oggak. You have no friends, your power is completely insignificant to mine, and I could easily crush you underneath my heel as if you were an annoying little insect.” “Even if what you say is true,” said Oggak. “I will still fight. I have stared into the face of evil again and again, over and over, until I’ve gotten sick of it. Over the centuries I faced the Shodios, the Tuikas, and dozens of other villains who have thought themselves superior to all. And none of them were even slightly good enough to make me wish to spare their rotten lives. Thus, I will not hesitate to kill you, Hajax, when we fight, even if the body you now posses isn’t really yours.” Hajax chuckled, disbelieving of her threat. “You, a Toa, willing to break the Toa code just to stop me? Am I really that bad?” Oggak shot a bolt of shadow at him, which had been so fast and so sudden that Hajax could not react in time to dodge it. It struck him in the chest, sending him falling backwards onto the ground, stunned by the blow. “Hajax, I have never abided by the Toa code as strictly as others have,” said Oggak, her voice deathly quiet now. “I have lived with the Order of Mata Nui for over 100,000 years and they, despite fighting for Mata Nui like the Toa, do not abide by it, either. Ever since I have been fighting the Tuikas, I have always aimed to kill them, but have never succeeded. So you see, Hajax, don’t be surprised if I fail to remember the Toa code when I’m trying to kill you. It tends to slip from my mind like that.” “As I have said before, you would be a fine queen if you were to join me, Oggak,” said Hajax, with a smile on his face as he rose back to his feet. Shadow energy was crackling around his hands like lightning then. “Your total unwillingness to compromise with your enemy . . . your disdain of the Toa code . . . You would honestly make a perfect queen, a position I think you would hold with pride. I am giving you one last chance, Oggak, to join me. Join me, and you shall have the entire universe at your command, to do with as you wish. But if you don’t-“ “I do not accept,” Oggak answered fiercely, as shadow seemed to leak from her body and into her hands. “I will never accept. I may not follow the Toa code like the others, but I can still recognize evil. You honestly expect me to think even for a moment that I would become your queen? Ridiculous wishful thinking, that is.” “I knew you would say that,” said Hajax grimly. “I suppose that means you have to die, then. Oh, well; I can always find another queen if I need one, you know.” Review Topic

Chapter 25: How to Save a Life Chimoy swung his thin sword through the air at Skik, who leapt back to dodge it and attempted to tackle him had Chimoy not conjured a shield out of midair and blocked the attack. He forced the Tuikas back, causing Skik to stumble, off-guard. With one fluid motion, Chimoy stabbed him in the gut and pulled the now blood-soaked sword out. At first, he thought Skik was down, but the attack, instead of killing him, seemed only to enrage the Tuikas, who slashed viciously at the Toa with his claws. The attack connected, ripping a large hole in Chimoy’s chest armor and causing him to yell out in pain as he stumbled backwards, his back colliding hard with a rock he landed on. Ignoring the pain, Chimoy rolled back onto his feet just as Skik, still bleeding badly and breathing hard, threw a handful of dirt into his face. Startled and temporarily blinded, Chimoy accidentally dropped his weapons. Skik charged headlong into him, sending him flying. The dirt from his eyes gone now, Chimoy realized he was about to crash into a stone wall, which he figured wouldn’t be a very good thing to happen to himself. So he activated his Calix and managed to somehow twist his body enough to make it slide safely over the wall, rather than collide with it. He landed perfectly on his feet just as Skik sent a bolt of energy flying at him, which just barely scrapped the top of his Kanohi. “Got to try harder than that, Skik!” called Chimoy as a new weapon – this time a large hammer – materialize out of thin air, swinging it through the air threateningly. “Much harder than that, I might add.” Skik merely growled in anger and shot toward Chimoy, firing energy bolts at the Toa. Chimoy ducked, dodged, and leapt over the attacks with ease, though he did not move from where he stood. He was already formulating a plan in his mind. He just had to wait for Skik to get a little closer, which would not be much longer at the speed he was going. It would, however, require careful timing. Move too late and he would miss; too soon and he figured he would probably die. Just got to wait, Chimoy thought, watching the Tuikas draw closer and closer, gripping his hammer tightly in his hand. Just a little closer now . . . Skik was nearly in range now. So Chimoy lifted his hammer, intending to smash it into the Tuikas’ face and hopefully finish him off for good. Chimoy was strong; he had no doubt that if he put all of his strength behind this one blow it would be enough to at least knock Skik out, possibly kill him, depending on how thick the monster’s skull happened to be. However, Chimoy’s plan went wrong almost from the beginning, for Skik shot a bolt of reddish energy at the Toa’s hammer, which struck it and caused its molecules to disperse in Chimoy’s hands. Totally caught-off guard by this move, Chimoy forgot to use his Calix and Skik, swooping in swiftly, slashed at the Toa of Iron’s abdomen as he passed, Chimoy crying out in pain as he fell to the ground again. Tolerating the pain as best he could, he glanced up in time to see Koya standing above him, energy swirling in the palm of her hand. He rolled out of the way just as she fired it, creating a small crater where his head had been previously. Gasping hard, Chimoy rose unsteadily to his feet, but fortunately he did not need to bother with Koya, for Death suddenly appeared, holding what looked like a sharp piece of rock in his hand. As he watched, Death grabbed Koya by the arm and then, pulling her closer, sunk the sharp stone deep into her chest, making her scream in pain as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. Then she reared back – the stone still in her chest – and punched Death hard in the face, making him stumble backwards . . . right into Skik, who grabbed the Dark Hunter and flew up high into the sky with him, blood trailing all the way, though whether it was from Skik or Death, Chimoy could not tell. “Death!” shouted Chimoy, but he had made a grave mistake in worrying about Death, for it left him wide open for an attack from Koya, who charged into him hard. However, Chimoy recovered quickly from this and, activating his Calix again, took the blow in stride and managed to dodge most of the attack, causing her to go stumbling straight into the ground behind him. Chimoy took advantage of this and conjuring a sharp knife from thin air, drove it straight into Koya’s back, making her scream louder than ever before suddenly stopping. She no longer moved or breathed or did anything to indicate she was still alive. She was dead, killed by his hands. Chimoy stood back up, panting hard and feeling shocked, mostly at himself. He had just killed someone, something he had never done before. He glanced down at the knife in his hand; it was bloody and so was the hand holding it. The blood felt warm, though it was rapidly cooling as he looked at it. Somehow, he had never imagined that killing would be that easy. He had thought it would be harder, more difficult to do, yet he had done it, just like that, as though he had been intending to do it all along, without thinking twice. There was no pause, no time for Koya to give her final words or for her to do anything else. He found this disturbing, even though he cared nothing at all for the Tuikas. Killing was so easy, and yet once it was over, he found that, despite knowing what he had done was for the greater good, it left him feeling empty. He didn’t know why; it just felt that way. He didn’t like the feeling. He was snapped out of his thoughts, however, when he remembered that Death was still being dragged through the air by Skik. He glanced up in time to see Skik, now several hundred feet up in the air, chuck Death towards the ground. Death looked remarkably like a rock tossed from a very high place now and was screaming and flailing his arms and legs as he fell. Chimoy knew Death wouldn’t survive a collision with the streets of Ironos; there was no debating it. He found himself wishing to save Death, but with no Mask of Flight, he could not simply fly up and catch him. As far as he could see, Death was doomed. But then he remembered Addis and Nonzra; how they had died, and the feelings of helplessness and frustration he had experienced afterwards. Though he had been unable to save Nonzra or Addis, he realized that he was in a situation to save Death from dying – as much as he hated to do it, considering Death was still a Dark Hunter – it would simply require him to think and move fast. He had a useful mask power; he might as well use it. He ran fast, ignoring the blood bleeding from his abdomen and the rest of the pain he was experiencing, his eyes focused solely on Death, who was falling fast, unable to do anything to slow his fall. Chimoy just needed to go a little faster, and, if he did it right, he would be able to save Death. He just hoped he was fast enough, since the wound he had gained earlier was beginning to become almost unbearable, despite his best efforts to ignore it. He almost wanted to just sit down and rest, but he couldn’t do that. He had a feeling that, whatever his feelings towards the Dark Hunters might be, if Death died, he would never be able to forgive himself knowing that he had allowed something like that to happen. Activating his Calix, he leapt up, as high as he could, and managed to catch Death, much to the surprise of the Dark Hunter. He then used the gained momentum to land perfectly on the ground. But the fall, Death’s weight, and the wound in his abdomen were too much for him; he dropped Death and fell to his knees, breathing hard. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to stay conscious, but he guessed it wouldn’t be that long. “What did you do that for?” asked Death, who seemed honestly surprised that Chimoy had saved him. “I mean, I appreciate it, but I was under the impression that-“ “Shut up and take this sword!” Chimoy gasped, breathing hard. He materialized a long sword out of thin air and slammed it in Death’s hand. One of his legs felt broken. “And-“ He could not take the constant bleeding and pain any longer; with one last gasp of air he fell to the ground, his mind drifting into unconsciousness. He briefly wondered if he was dying, but then decided that there was no need to worry, no need to think; just sleep and do nothing else. Nothing else at all mattered to him now, not even the Tuikas. Review Topic

I think this story is off to a great start. In particular, I think you describes things well, helping me imagine the characters and setting without bogging down the story. That can be hard to do sometimes, so good job there. You did a good job setting up the tone of the story, too. While it's a bit too early to say for certain, I think this story is going to be fairly dark and grim, though not hopeless (although of course I could be wrong). You established that tone in the prologue pretty well, which again is another thing that can be hard to pull off sometimes. I would like to point out, however, that your tense is inconsistent. Early on, until Kana's appearance, you use the past tense ("He walked to the grocery store"), but for the rest of the chapter you use the present tense ("He walks to the grocery store). It's not usually a good idea to mix tenses like that because it can be confusing. Personally I think you should go with past tense, but you should really just choose the tense that you think fits your story best. Keep on writing, -TNTOS-