Grey Snow
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Chapter 2: Lightning Quest, Part 2 The Fingers. That’s what they were called. It was good to finally have a name to give to the spires of rock jutting out of the Silver Sea, surrounding the Isle of Cyril Nui. Bandiaca had once made one of the Fingers into her base, but now they were all abandoned, from what Gorma was able to ascertain, using knowledge of where she had been based out of in the past. If she was gone for good or not was a good question. The team had taken a ship from one of the harbors, one of the docks. They were sailing to one of the farthest Fingers, which was also one of the larger ones, though not as large as the one that had been Bandiaca’s base at one point. If it was the same, then there was no doubt their quest was in vain. “I saw it, when I was a Toa,” Gorma had told them. “What was it that you saw?” questioned Cesare. “The shattering of a star,” Gorma said. “Star?” laughed Magis, “There are no stars on this island! We can’t even see the Spirit Stars of the six of us!” “It may not have been a star, but we always called it one,” Gorma explained, “It shone like one. Believe it or not, there was a time when this island wasn’t in perpetual cloud coverage. We had proper day and night cycles. “One day this sparkling…thing – star – fell from somewhere, crashing down onto one of the Fingers. Right onto the tip, shattering into fragments. We all wondered what it could have been, but none of us went to investigate it. We all continued to sit in perpetual wonder, but never pursued. “One day one of us went out to investigate. He returned with a small piece, barely alive. He stated that something had attacked him, but he had gotten a bit of the object in question. When examined, it was quickly ascertained that the shard of stone – which glowed and shone with a thousand colors – held the power of Lightning within it. “From that day on we called the stones the “Inika Stones”, based on a tale we had heard in the past. The stones had come from a star, so the name felt appropriate. And since it held Lightning, we knew that it was the name that others used for it as well.” “So, Inika Stone, what can it do, exactly?” Magis questioned him. “Unleash Lightning,” Gorma explained vaguely. “Is that it?” questioned Agri. “We could have just called on Rei,” Magis muttered. “It is something all of you will need to carry if you wish to stop this Madan figure,” Gorma had told them sternly, “If he uses that thunder power on you again, you’ll need your own Inika Stone to stop the attack and attack him back.” “Then all we can do is go after them,” Cesare had stated, “Do you know of the thing that attacked your friend?” “No.” “Then show us which of the Fingers our target is, and we’ll get a boat. We leave this day.” That had been around three hours ago. Even with Larc to manipulate the water around the boat it was slow going. It was as if the waters of the ocean were fighting them every step of the way. There was no way for them to advance faster, and that worried them. Was this guardian of the Inika Stones doing this? Could it be possible that something had that power to oppose their quest? It was vital that they finished as soon as they could, but this was getting too difficult. Still, they had to do it. It was Duty. “Larc, instead of forcing the waves to push us, just open us a path of smooth water!” ordered Cesare, then he whipped around to Magis, “Use your Air powers to push us!” “We have oars, not a sail,” Magis told him, stating the obvious. “I know,” Cesare said, “But heavy winds against the flat back of the boat will still do something,” Cesare told him, “Especially with what I have in mind.” Larc opened a clear path of ocean ahead of them, reaching towards the Finger. When it completely reached, Cesare acted, freezing the waters all around them on both sides, leaving only their path. As the wind propelled them through the only patch of water – a smooth patch – he froze the patch behind them as they moved, sealing them in. “Agri, see to it that the Finger isn’t a threat,” Cesare said, “When we get close, reach out and see if anything rests on the Finger.” “It’s mostly made of stone,” Agri admitted, “But I’ll do my best.” “Please do,” he replied, “Chalice, bring in some cloud coverage for us, around us and the Finger itself. We’ll still know as we approach,” he touched the scope on his Kanohi mask, “We want to blind anything that might be there.” “What do you want me to do?” Garren questioned. He knew there was probably nothing, but he didn’t like standing around, waiting uselessly. As he suspected, “I’m sorry, I don’t have any job for you,” Cesare said. Garren nodded, “Understood,” he muttered with annoyance. After a few minutes, moving like this, they reached the Finger. As soon as they arrived, Larc created a buffer between them and the Finger itself out of Water, keeping them from crashing. As soon as they secured the boat to the island of stone, Cesare got rid of the ice path and made his way with the others onto the surface, rushing across the barren landscape. They kept looking around for anything, but there was nothing unordinary. “Perhaps whatever guardian there was is gone now. Dead,” Chalice suggested. “Perhaps it was just some migrating Rahi,” Larc put in. “Seems logical enough,” Garren agreed, “After all, why would some guardian just appear when a stone shattered on an island of stone?” “You make a good point,” Cesare said, “But let’s be ready for anything.” There was a scraping sound, some movement up ahead, just above them on a ridge. The team span, Blade Blasters drawn, aimed up at the figure, but it was gone. All they had seen was a bit of black armor. “Ok, something is here,” Agri muttered, reaching out, feeling nothing through the stone, “Yeah, my powers are useless here.” “I figured,” Cesare replied, “My scope’s not getting anything either.” “Just be ready,” Agri ordered the rookies, “Be ready for anything. Garren, you watch the back. Use your Crystal powers to cut down any resistance.” “No questions?” questioned Garren. “Just kill,” Agri said. Cesare nodded his agreement, “Yeah; eliminate anything, just to be safe.” “What if it’s a Matoran?” questioned Garren, “What if a Matoran was shipwrecked and ended up here, or something?” “Then why did the Matoran run?” questioned Cesare, “Why not call to us for help? Call to boats that go by? There’s no reason for a Matoran not to, unless he’s a hermit, in which case we’re trespassing, but he would be inhibiting the mission and safety of everyone on the island by not giving us the crystals we seek. In which case…” “Kill him?” muttered Garren. “Unfortunately.” “One life isn’t above the lives of many,” agreed Agri, “As hard as it is.” “Chances are it’s not a Matoran anyway,” Garren muttered to himself, just to make himself feel better about the grim task he would no doubt need to perform. As the team moved, slowly at first, they found nothing. They worked their way up the Finger, up ridges, watching their footing. When they reached the spot where the black figure had been they saw that there were claw marks in place of any other sort of footprint. “Bipedal,” Garren said. Cesare nodded, “Yeah, whatever it is, it’s no Matoran.” “Kill it anyway?” Garren questioned, “No matter what?” “Chances are it’s a Rahi. Kill it,” replied Cesare as they continued onward. “Kaori?” Madan questioned. “Yes,” she replied, walking towards him, walking through the black cave. Lights sprang up around her as she walked, lit by her powers. Her name was Kaori of the Light; there was a reason these lights activated on her approach. She was clad in black armor, with the only gray being her gauntlets, and the only other color being her burning orange eyes. She had slightly clawed feet in black, sleek but muscular legs, with spiked armor above her knees. She had slight and sleek black armor over her chest, with elongated and sloped black armor on each of her arms around her shoulders, and muscular, yet average length arms. She wore a sleek and ridged black Kanohi mask, and carried a broadsword-like weapon in her right hand, with a dagger erupting from the bottom of it. “It has arrived,” Kaori reported. “Which one?” questioned Madan. “Greed,” reported Kaori. Greed. The Sin whom had persisted the second longest in this current batch. Madan had no soldiers, no followers other than Kaori; he had only the Sins and his own Virtues. He would make new batches of Sins – his generals – when he needed them, but this Greed had been around a long time. Only one Sin had outlived him, while the other five were newer creations. Greed was clad in silver and gray armor. Its feet each had two claws emerging from them, its feet silver. It had reptilian-looking muscular legs, with its right leg having a drill appendage emerging from above its ankle, able to open and close, spin and drill. It had spiked silver armor above its knees, and a slightly built chest with a piece of silver armor over its gray chest. Greed had two silver fins coming off of its chest just before the armpits. Its right arm had a silver spinning weapon on the shoulder, along with a sleek piece of silver armor jutting back. It had muscular silver arms with gray gauntlets on each hand. On its left arm he had a blade erupting down the back of the arm, rather than the spinning blade. Its face was gray, but it wore a silver piece over its face, a hook blade. The outside, facing away from the face, was spiked, while a blade erupted towards the back of the head, and the bottom, towards the ground. The blade was rather thin, allowing Greed to see past both sides. Greed was a warrior who lived up to its name; it was greedy, with the ability to absorb the powers of another. “I met Gluttony along the way; it’ll be here shortly,” Greed said, referencing the fact that none of the Sins had genders; they were all genderless, calling themselves “it”. “Very good,” Madan said, “I’ve been longing to have you all back here again, as long as all of you have survived over the years.” “You made us all very powerful, Madan,” Greed said, “I have no doubt we all pulled through,” it said bitterly. Madan ignored Greed and turned out to the mouth of the cave, looking out at the streets he could see from the quarry, to the Matoran scurrying about. “I’ll need you lot to deal with the Toa while I take the populace under my control,” Madan said, “I could kill the Toa, but I’d rather the Matoran not see their liberator killing their defenders.” What was it? What in the world was that thing? The Toa were scattered near the top of the Finger, their weapons scattered. They were gathering them up quickly, keeping Blade Blasters trained, not that it would do any good. This thing was fast; too fast. This black, feral thing was out of control. They had no chance in Karzahni to win this. “I have six of the crystals,” Agri said, standing up and slinging his pack over his shoulder, “We have to go!” Magis conjured up a large sphere of air around the lot of them, throwing them from the top of the Finger, towards the sea below. They were just thankful their boat was still there, unharmed. Then it came from nowhere; some sort of attack that tore through the Air, dropping them all into the cold, treacherous sea below. Larc barely managed to control the waters prior to them landing, keeping them from being smashed to pieces. It was a fast ride comparatively, as no waves challenged them; they helped. No winds opposed them. The waves pushed them all the way back to the island, away from that feral black thing on the Finger, towards the island itself. It had happened, Gorma realized, something he hadn’t counted on. He had been a fool not to expect history repeating itself, however. The last time the Toa had faced an enemy who was too strong they transformed as well. Cesare stood before him, clad in white and silver armor. White feet, white legs with silver armor above his knees. He had silver overlaying his lower chest, white sleek armor with a silver shield over the top of his chest, back and upper arms. He had white, rather unarmored arms, with muscular arms, clutching a shield in his right hand, two crescent weapons put together, with the hilt of a sword emerging from the top of the shield, a sword inset. He had a sleek white Kanohi mask on, with glowing green eyes coming from within. Then Agri; clad in black and gold armor. He had black feet with a little gray mixed in, then black, muscular legs. He had golden spiked armor above the knees overlaying some gray. He had black armor over his entire torso, with a golden shield overlaying his chest, back and upper arms. Unlike Cesare’s sleek shield, Agri’s was spiked in two prongs and bladed shoulder pieces. He had golden armor above his elbows, overlaying gray armor. He had muscular black arms and gray gauntlets, wearing a sleek black Kanohi with glowing green eyes. In his right hand he carried a staff-like weapon with a large end capable of spinning on the shaft, ending in two blades like a heavy spear. Magis wore green, silver and black armor. Green and silver feet, with green muscular legs, black armor over gray armor above his knees. He had an entirely green torso, with a silver piece of armor over the top as additional armor, much like he used to wear. He had a black shield over his chest, back and upper arms, all of it lighter looking, sleeker. He had green arms until his elbows, with silver overlaying, and then silver below his elbows. He had green gauntlets and a sleek green Kanohi mask with glowing green eyes. In his left hand he carried a long shaft weapon, with many fin blades emerging and curving down at angles, ending in a spear/drill end which could open and close. Larc wore dark and light blue armor, with light blue slightly clawed feet, with dark blue armor up to her knees. She had light blue from then up, with long clawed blue armor coming down over her knees. She wore blue chest armor with another finned blade coming down. She had spiked blue armor on her arms with slight blue armor on her arms, and light blue gauntlets. A sleek blue Kanohi mask with a tail swirling back was adorning her head. She had blue fins coming off of her legs, sloping back, along with silver wing-like protrusions hanging down her back, along with blue armor coming up above, able to be seen over her shoulders. In her right hand she carried a long trident weapon with a blaster at the end. Garren wore white and blue armor, with white, slightly clawed feet, white armored muscular legs with blue overlay, and white armor overlaying the blue above his knees. A white sheet of armor covered his blue and white torso, with light blue arms ending in darker muscular arms with gray gauntlets. He had white armor coming off of the light blue. He had a sleek white Kanohi mask and a long shaft weapon with a blade at the bottom, coming off of the sides, and erupting from the top. Chalice wore orange, brown and gray armor, with slightly clawed orange feet, yellow muscular legs, orange above, and yellow armor above. He had an orange chest plate with brown overlaying, gray arms with yellow overlay, and brown arms from below the elbows leading into yellow gauntlets, with an orange sleek Kanohi that exposed his green eyes and the top of his head. He carried a twin dagger in his right hand. “Toa Cyril Inika,” breathed Gorma, “I didn’t think this would happen, but perhaps…this is fate.”“Silver...nostalgia, my beauty restored. But…wait, I remember you. You were… No! I won’t let this happen. I will not allow you to harm him! I swear by my beautiful armor, I swear by my soul, by my being a Toa Cyril Inika…I will not allow this man to be harmed! Next time: “Chapter 3: Nostalgic Magis” Feel the Magnificent Gale!”Review
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Book 2Chapter 1: Lightning Quest, Part 1 In the period of one month, the repairs to the island were nearly complete. There was little left of the damage caused by the final attack launched by the Phantasmal Raiders, other than the death toll, of course. The Toa had managed to keep order and convince the populace that they were safe, but after Bandiaca and the Raiders, how were they to be sure that they truly were safe? How many of them knew what safety was anymore? In times past, some were in battle, some were nearly killed. Always the attacks had been centered on specific areas of the island. This was the second time a full attack had occurred, the first time that everyone was involved like this. Bandiaca’s attack was less an attack against the populace; this was one against them. But the Toa had done their best to calm all down. The various Turaga had used the attack as parts of their campaigns for leadership, but yet there was no leader. Gorma continued to mention that Fides was doing very well, and that the Matoran truly liked him. He always spoke with distaste in his voice when mentioning the man. He said the man’s methods might be good, if the Matoran, who rarely listened, were listening to him, but he would rather be leader. Fides had a lot wrong, while Gorma viewed himself as having everything right. This caused Larc at one point to ask him if maybe Gorma was biased against everyone else and blinded by his own idea of how the island should be ruled. Gorma didn’t take that lightly, but couldn’t do much to punish her mouth, so he did nothing. His anger is all he could hold onto in order to find any sort of victory. It wasn’t a victory, but he considered it to be good enough, rather than waste his energy trying to get back at her for the crack comment. Bandiaca hadn’t been seen nor heard from since the end of the fighting. The Raiders were still under the surface of the water, at the bottom of the Silver Sea, no doubt. They were safe from those forces for some time, at the very least. But the Toa had done a very good job of crushing them during their battles, which left them with very few soldiers remaining. This was a cause for celebration, if there wasn’t so much to do on the island. And if the island allowed for celebration; the dystopia just wasn’t the place to celebrate. But both threats were still out there. The Toa knew they couldn’t relax just yet. They had to be ever watchful, vigilant. If Bandiaca or the Raiders returned, they would have to stop them. A figure walked through the streets, standing and walking tall, almost like a savior, a Great Being, in a form that could be understood by the Matoran. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way that he moved… The Matoran stood in awe, watching as if he were rapture itself. It was breathtaking to take him in, in his majesty. His back held straight and erect, powerful legs carrying him, never losing stride. Staff at his side, shining in the minimal light that drifted down. He even had a crown of sorts, showing that he was a truly majestic figure. Majestic was the word that the Matoran would have used. Garren, walking through the streets on patrol, wouldn’t have used that word. As soon as he saw this figure he stopped and ran, rushing towards the street the figure was about to reach. The Toa of Crystal couldn’t send word back to the others; there was no way to. If this figure was friendly, there would have been no need. If he were hostile, then Garren would need to figure something out. Fast. But he was good at thinking quickly. He was also skilled in combat, so he could probably handle himself. He hoped he could, anyway. He stopped and turned the corner, racing down the street, walking out to impede the walking of this strange figure. Garren held the hilts of both of his square chakram-like weapons tightly in hand, ready to expect anything. A Toa should always be ready to expect anything. He had been taught that, and he knew it would hold true right here, right now. He wished it wouldn’t, but knew it would. “Who are you?” Garren demanded, his young voice filled with energy, his body ready to spring into action and fight. The figure looked at him through the slits of his crown-like adornment. He lifted his staff up, resting the blunt end of it in the ground at his feet, standing there, cape blowing in the light breeze that drifted through the streets. He had white armored feet, with a few small claws coming out for gripping. He had gray muscular legs up to his knees, with some white armor overlaying parts of the gray. From his knees up he had more gray armor overlaid almost completely with white armor. He had a white torso with sleek gray armor overlaying it, with a white piece of armor over that. His arms were both completely gray, down to his gauntlets. However, above his elbows he wore white armor, much like over the spots on his legs beneath his knees. He had a tattered yet elegant black cape thrown over his shoulders, hanging down to the backs of his knees. In his right hand he wielded a long staff, with the only adornment being on the upper half. A large curved blade curled down, reaching nearly to his hand. The long blade was on the front, while a smaller blade was on the back. A piece of it jutted upwards, where there was a blade like a spear mounted, the blade curling out, towards an opponent. On the inside of the blade, there was another tooth, making cutting more damaging than it would have otherwise been. His face was gray, but overlaid with white armor. It was like a claw and a crown put together. His mouth wasn’t visible because of it, and no doubt his voice would be muffled when speaking. He had three claws or points of the crown coming up his head, one going over his forehead and the top of his head, while the others went to the outsides of his eyes and outside of his head. His orange eyes burned through the spots between the center and the sides. “My name,” his voice was muffled, elegant, commanding due to the strength, but not overly commanding, “is Madan. Madan of the Eternal.” “Madan of the Eternal?” questioned Garren, “What makes you...eternal?” “Doesn’t my name define itself?” questioned Madan, “I am unkillable.” “Do you come in peace to this island?” demanded Garren. His hands would be tightening if they could; they were already gripping his weapons as hard as they could. At any moment he would release his Crystal powers and create blades for himself. He would cut this man down at the first sign of trouble. “I haven’t come to fight,” Madan told him, his voice in no way muffled, surprisingly, “The Matoran will willingly join me. Can’t you see their amazement and wonder already? They’re lost in my majesty. Toa…you and your fellows should find yourselves the same way. It is the beneficial path for everyone.” “Everyone? I don’t think so,” Garren said, “We like being free.” “Who said anything about enslavement?” questioned Madan, “You will be free! I am not a slave master, or a slave driver. I just search for loyal followers. That is all.” The blades of Crystal erupted from Garren’s weapons, striking the ground with a thwap sound. Garren lifted his weapons, ready for anything. “Well then, you brought this down upon yourself. Remember that,” Madan said, never moving. Garren dashed forward, slashing one arm aside. Crystal darts flew off of the main blade of Crystal, whipping through the air, ready to bury themselves into Madan and tear through him. A crash sounded through the air. Electricity sizzled through it, so intense that Garren could feel the static on himself, even though he was nowhere near close to Madan, who was no doubt behind it. His Crystal darts fell to the ground, shattered. He stepped over them as he ran, crushing them underfoot. He reached Madan, slashing with his right, bringing it down. Madan dodged back, but to Garren it looked like the man had hardly moved in order to make his dodge. It was more like a glide. He thrust his left arm up, turning his body slightly sideways for the thrust. Madan dodged in a similar fashion once again, bringing the end of his staff up, striking Garren in the face with the shaft of the weapon, knocking the rookie Toa back. “I give one last chance to surrender and follow me,” Madan said, in no way concerned over the way the fight would turn out. Garren lunged forward without a word, basically fencing at this point. He would thrust multiple times with his left blade, center, then up, down, left, right, center, and so on. Madan dodged every thrust. He drew his right up, whipping his body to face front, slashing as hard and fast as he could, abandoning his grace for a shot that should connect. It missed. Madan lifted the end of his staff. The tip was glowing, but not with a power that Garren was familiar with. “I gave you a chance,” Madan told him. The shockwave, the crash of sound, the electrical pulses. It all filled the air again, throwing Garren against the ground, choking for breath as the electricity constricted his organics, burning his lungs, keeping him from drawing a breath. “I don’t need to fight,” Madan told him, keeping his distance, “I can just stop you.” A few shots filled the air, forcing Madan to spin to avoid them, his cape flowing. It settled down on his back and shoulders as he looked up, watching Cesare approaching, Blade Blaster in hand. Agri and Magis were behind, Blade Blasters also drawn. Larc and Chalice were rushing to Garren’s aid, Larc attempting to heal him. “So, who are you?” Cesare demanded coldly, his voice smooth, sultry, in no mood for games, “Oh, let me guess. You’re the newest guy who wants this island for whatever reason. I feel that we’re overdue for your appearance.” Madan shrugged, “I can’t argue with facts.” “So, you are the next guy after the island?” Agri demanded, training both of his firearms on him, “Why?” “Why is a good question,” Madan answered, “Alas, I cannot tell you.” “Then tell us who you are,” said Cesare, drawing his sword into his right hand, letting the minimal rays of sun flash off of the blade. “My name is Madan. Madan of the Eternal. Eternal as in forever living; unkillable,” he explained all at once, his words coming out slowly but smoothly, brimming with confidence in his statement of being ‘eternal’. “We’ll kill you like we’ve killed all the others who have stood on this island, trying to capture it,” Cesare warned hm. “Really now? I’m different; just look at your downed comrade,” he said, casting a glance to Garren, still unable to draw breath, even with Larc’s help. Chalice was trying something now. He put his hands to Garren’s chest, focusing on the electrical properties of his element of Storms, drawing the electricity away from Garren’s body, since he could still see some of it rippling around. As a result he drew it from the lungs as well, allowing Garren to draw breath again, panting, taking great gulps of air in. Garren stumbled beside the others, almost losing his grip on his weapons, but holding on due to sheer necessity of facing an opponent, even with almost all of his strength gone. He looked at Cesare, trying to speak. “Save your breath, your strength,” Cesare told him, holstering his Blade Blaster along with the others, “We’ll figure out what he did to you. You have enough strength to show this guy who he’s dealing with?” Garren nodded simply. Cesare swung his sword out to his side, his arm behind his body. His left hand came up, clenching into a fist in front of his face. He threw that arm out to the side, span around, and as he lifted his sword, slashed it down, looking up as he slashed down, “The exploding tundra! Toa Cesare!”Agri stood with his feet together, his right side facing the group of enemies. He lowered his weapon, looking out over the top barrel. He span around, dropping to a knee, lifting the weapon and bracing his left arm against the guard of the blaster weapon, looking up at them, “The exploding strength! Toa Agri!” Magis crossed his arms, sighting, showing no enthusiasm, yet he mustered up the strength in his voice as he brought his head up, “The exploding gale! Toa Magis!” Chalice swung both swords down, crossing the blades. Sparks crackled between the tips as he raised his swords overhead, swinging them down to each side of his body, the sparks surging around his body like a radiant sun sparkling behind his body, dark clouds rolling at his sides in a moment, “The surging force of nature! Toa Chalice!” Larc swung her blade behind her body, spinning, flipping it between her fingers. She thrust it forward as she faced towards the groups of enemies again, stopping the spinning of her weapon when it was vertical, “The crashing surge of the ocean! Toa Larc!” Garren drew both arms up in front of his body, flipping his ringed weapons around his hands, then slashing them down to his sides, swords of Crystal spawning out in an instant, digging into the ground, “The refined finite cut! Toa Garren!” “Six Toa now one, determined to destroy the evils plaguing this island!” screamed Cesare. “We are the…,” said the other five. All together. “Toa Cyril Nova!” “This makes it easier for me,” Madan said, lifting his staff. Like before it was glowing with the same power he continued to utilize to fight the team with. The power released itself, sending the shockwaves, sending the electricity, sending everything through the air. It slammed into all six Toa before they could react. Before they could realize what hit them, they were all downed, lying on the ground, all of them choking as electricity constricted their organics, constricted even their lungs. “That is what you get for facing one who is eternal,” Madan told them, “My thunder powers are superior to your Nova powers, wouldn’t you say?” He walked towards them, looking at each of them in turn as they slowly died. He walked away from them, continuing on down the street, only stopping after he had passed all of them. He turned around, his cape swirling around himself as he performed his turn. “I am Madan of the Eternal! Leader of the Twilight Meisters! Fear us, Toa, for I alone have shown you what we can do. If you survive, then do the smart thing and join with us.” Madan walked away, ignoring them as he walked. “I feared you wouldn’t awake,” Gorma said worriedly, bending over Magis, lifting his hands away after using his minimal powers to heal the Toa of Air, drawing the electricity out. It was no simple task, using the powers of Air to draw away electricity, but by inflating the lungs forcefully, the electricity was somehow cast off, Gorma had found. Or did Madan want them to survive and made it easy? As everyone rose, Cesare questioned Gorma instantly, “Do you know of a group known as the Twilight Meisters?” he questioned, his head spinning. “No,” Gorma said after a few moments of thought, then shook his head, “Never.” “Their leader, the guy who did this to us,” Garren said, “What about his name? Madan of the Eternal.” “No, I’m sorry,” Gorma said. “He said he used the power of thunder,” Larc told Gorma, “What about that?” “Are you certain it wasn’t Lightning?” questioned the Turaga. “I heard ‘thunder’ as well,” Agri said. “I…that’s not an element,” Gorma said, “I don’t know anything of it…” “You can see the effects it had,” Cesare said, “Do you know of anything we can do to fight back? If he can level us at any moment like this, we need a way to fight back!” “There is one possible solution,” Gorma said, “I wouldn’t recommend such a quest.” “What is it?” demanded Cesare, “Tell us!” “Inika Crystals,” Gorma said, “The power of Lightning.”“What is peace? I mean…what truly defines peace? Is it dictatorship? Democracy? What? And who can bring it? We Toa are defenders of peace…but are we truly defending it, or does it need to be brought? Is it us…or is it Madan? Next time: “Chapter 2: Lightning Quest, Part 2” Grace like the rain.”Review
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I hate Decade.Anyway, here's what I said on another forum after the finale. I'm going into law enforcement, by the way:
There's more too, as that was just for the finale with a few notes thrown about. But most of my hate can be seen from this. The writing was kind of poor, with Zangyack especially. The characters honestly didn't get the development people like to think they did. They had backstories, sure, but development? I don't think so. Gai annoys me to no end.It was poor. It barely had a plot, it was meant to show off the history of the franchise. Sure, that's great and all, but a good plot could easily be worked in there. Decade (as I recall) was meant to be Tsukasa learning from the nine Riders before him, or something like that (or maybe that was just an early rumor). Gokaiger could have done something like that! You have them taking away lessons and stuff, sure, but it's jarring. For a few episodes, they're pirates. They don't care about Earth or Zangyack. They fight for contrived reasons. Suddenly they care. Sure, them learning the worth of Earth is a running idea through the series, I guess, but it just doesn't feel like it worked that well, for me, anyway.Gokaiger finale.Waiting until the end to use Super Modes? "Pride" was the reason, wasn't it? You get curb stomped, so bring out Super Modes? Like against Basco? Of course not! But against the Emperor, sure. Why not? Especially since his only real thing was his durability.Pride is no excuse! If you die you have no pride. Survival instinct over pride. Seriously. If I'm in a situation and should have gun drawn, guy with knife, I decide, "No. I'm too proud. I'll go nightstick."I die. Was it worth it? No. Pride never beats out survival instinct.The Emperor. Sure, he can sit and fight from his throne, cool and all...but I hate it that they went that path. I'd rather have him have something else going for him and that's how he forged the Empire. Not much of a problem, since I'd say Basco and Damaras had him beat, heck, even his three bodyguards. I can live with durability, but his skill?Brings me to the third bodyguard. What was his point? I don't remember which forum I read this on, but I'm jumping in on the theory that they realized he was still alive and just killed him off in the finale, otherwise they had nobody for the other four to fight. He had no point; he could have been offed at any time. He had no real impact.Oh hey, looks like the characters are still one dimensional...did they really grow over the course of the series? No. Describe any of the characters in depth. Go on; you can only get words. Joe is "stoic", for instance. Can you go into much depth? Not really. People like to say the characters have depth, but they don't, not really. There's a great writeup on this on (insert forum name here I am omitting for obvious reasons) which I'll grab later.The Zangyack fleet losing? With so many ships, how did the Earth not burn faster? How did it survive? And how did the Gigant Horse destroy millions that fast? One would assume the ships were spread out over the planet, though, due to the sheer number. And did nobody realize, "Oh ****, I should take evasive action"? We know Gourmin can think and aren't just idiotic.Cameos. Nice, I guess one Dairanger didn't age, looks like GoGreen is still young (never saw the series, but he looks pretty young), never saw Go-Onger outside of attempting the Nigorl episode (I love his suit and wanted it in RPM very badly), but Miu has a fat face. I said it. And Houka is how I remember her from the four or so Magiranger episodes I watched before quitting due to the lightheartedness. And then we have AkaRanger at the very end. Awesome and something I truly enjoyed.Overall was Gokaiger good? If you like fanservice, sure. But I don't like fanservice. If I were asked, I wouldn't call Gokaiger a season. It's fanservice filling 51 episodes, not a season of 51 episodes. It was a weak series overall with attempted character development, but not very good overall. And the villains...they were a joke. I love good villains, like Gekiranger, like Goseiger (well, Bladerun). Maybe that's why I also don't care for Shinkenger that much, another fan favorite season. Strangely, I like Deka, but bias of course. It's a police season.How could it have been a good finale? Um...Insaarn actually did something instead of being a useless "point, shoot, make my monster grow" character? She was awesome at points, with that whip and stuff, then she goes down like a (I can't think of a word to sub here) and just dies when it sounds like she could possibly do something interesting. Oh, and Damaras getting Oiles's corpse? I guess it was just buried or something, but seriously? She could have staged a coup, become the final villain, made Mecha Giles (or something), been awesome (Damaras and Basco would be too obvious for final villains, after all). Damaras was interesting, his death ticks me off, though. He could have held on if he wasn't doomed to die by plot. Basco's death still irks me with how he went down rather easily in the end. In the end, only Basco was interesting. Oiles started to show some good development, then he dies. Barizorg was doomed to have none, of course.But the biggest problem is that the Zangyack became a joke so quickly. For a few episodes they were great, then what happened?Will I ever watch Gokaiger again? Probably Vs. Gavan (author's note: I didn't). Taisen (author's note: highly unlikely), if for no other reason than to see what a mess it is and hope for something good (oh, and Long is in it, and hopefully Narutaki's backstory, even if he is playing at being Doctor G, and they have a terrible version of the Kani Laser suit...). Will I ever watch episodes again? Episode 4 I have on DVD since I enjoy it, and the tease between Joe and Ahim (darn it, why the heck did you guys not follow up on this? The opening says "romance"!), and it's a good episode in all honesty. It's with Deka 37 on my DVD, so it's just favorite episodes.Gokaiger, overall, you get a C rank. Generously. Truthfully, D+.
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I'm hoping for older stuff, not just what people are thinking they did. "Fans want Toonami back? Slap the name onto our current block and just put two new shows on, problem solved." Or something like that.I loved seeing TOM again, especially in his new glorious CGI. And hearing Blum's voice with new TOM lines? Yes, wonderful.
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I really enjoy it, my favorites being Geki and Busters.I've seen, in full, Time, Deka, Geki, Shinken, Gosei, Gokai. Saw a few Akiba, tried Magi (lightheartedness made me stop), tried Gao (site was hard to watch on).I'm not enjoying Akiba, but I'm not someone the show is aimed at. I prefer the more serious styled shows than these jokes (I think I literally only laughed once within the first three Akiba. I'm behind; I want to see at least up to five for the sake of BureDayu's return, as I love Bladerun from Goseiger).Also, Gokaiger? I despise it. People keep loving it for the sake of fanservice, but it is the worst season I have ever seen. If someone really wants to know why I hate it (a season loved by so much of the fandom), I will copy/paste my explanations and clean up the language to accommodate. But I don't even consider it a season; it's pointless fanservice.
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A Shinkenger? Wow, awesome.Anyway, from things I've seen discussed, one must wonder. Is it 3, or shall we dub him 5?
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According to a press release, it'll air midnight to six. No idea if it's just Saturdays, or every day.A combination of new and old programming. Though the "new" seems to be something made by Adult Swim, according to the article.
TOONAMI - Beginning Saturday, May 26, Adult Swim brings back Toonami, the network's popular block of anime programming. Airing weekly from midnight to 6 a.m. (ET/PT), in addition to the return of previous series featured in Toonami, Adult Swim is also developing new original anime programming for fans.
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Oh wow, I didn't expect that. Yeah, that's definitely something. I had been imagining something different.Maybe this is something good, then. One of the guys who made Toonami just moved pretty high up in CN, after all.Edit: It's back! The 26th!
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Really? I know someone saw a blank in the schedule the other week, but they were just looking at it wrong, or it just didn't go out that far yet, or something.I personally don't think this is anything for Toonami. I think we'll have another few months left before something happens.
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I've been following this, and it's still in ongoing discussion, basically. We have no idea if/when it will return. Unless I missed something big, which most sites I've been following hint against; we're still doing our best to get attention out there and get CartoonNetwork to listen.
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I'm with you on that one.I'm sure some day down the line, the BBC will decide they just have to film in Wisconsin to really capture that Doctor Who feel.Yeah, that's what's gonna happen. Definitely.(fffffffffff)
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You guys know that at least one site is hosting Toonami online. I missed this, but I get my fix of nostalgia on a daily basis, if I so choose.I just mostly watch on weekends for Outaw Star, Zoids and Kenshin, though.
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Wait, 18th Century? Didn't read that; this very much pleases me.
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I've lost all interest in tracking down and posting pictures of the upcoming season, since this site isn't as active anymore (as far as I can tell).
Anyone been seeing the pictures for the Western story? Looks interesting, especially the cyborg.
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Custom made to my exact specifications.And I couldn't find anywhere else to make it, so it was the only option.
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Chapter 20: The Perilous Sea “Fall back!” screamed Mirai to the Anaroids. They were lifting swords, firing into the groups of Bashaa approaching. Bashaa fell, but were quickly replaced. Mirai swung his sword forward, sending a burst of Fire into the crowd, burning through more of their ranks. Dai had recently rejoined them, but he wasn’t doing anything for them. He could only fight in close quarters. No enemies got close enough. Bandiaca raised her staff, calling a Lightning strike down. As usual, the pooled powers of the three Phantasmal Raiders negated her attack, keeping their ranks safe. They had the benefit of numbers. The Anaroids had the benefit of ranged attacks. Anything the Raiders threw forward was negated instantly by Bandiaca and her powers. Kaixa was able to fly in and out, using his wire tail to strangle Bashaa and throw the corpses into the oncoming masses, taking some down with the blunt throws. Kaixa was forced to keep distant, though, or it would be destroyed. The battle was slow moving. The Anaroids didn’t fall often, but the Bashaa fell en masse and were replaced by reinforcements. If Sasword was still alive, he could have evened the fight up a bit more. Leangle was rejoining the fight now, along with Jaki. ‘Forte’ was nowhere to be found, but Dai knew that he was dead, unable to fight. If anyone got close to the Raiders, then he would have done a lot of damage. Not it was Leangle and Jaki alone who had to do it. The rest of the warriors for the Raiders were off elsewhere, fighting the Toa. If they had fallen into rank, then ranged attacks would puncture deep holes into the ranks of Bandiaca. She wasn’t going to lose ground; she wanted the island. She was going to hold it at any cost. No matter how many men she lost, as long as she had one left by the time the Raiders and their forces were crushed, it would be worth it. Cyril Nui was an island that wasn’t worth much. The fighting between those in power, the Turaga, the conflicts, the dystopia…nothing gave this island any worth. Bandiaca had heard Matoran speaking of promises of a man named Fides. The Matoran were hoping for Fides to be able to create some defense for all of their sakes. Fides this. Fides that. She didn’t know who he was, nor did she care. She heard other Turaga mentioned. Gorma, the Turaga aiding the Toa. He was another popular one, since he could provide the help of the Toa. But that was about all he could bring to the table. Then the game changed. A blast of power erupted through the ranks of both sides, wiping out the grunts that both factions were using as the bulks of their armies. “It’s time we put an end to this.” Cesare walked out of the shadows of a dilapidated building, lifting his sword. He pointed it high, as it to let light glint off of the steel, if there were light. If the clouds weren’t permanently covering the skies over the island. “We’re going to bring this fighting to an end,” Cesare boasted. “Impressive, if you can pull it off,” Uva hissed. “Boasting doesn’t befit you, Toa,” Sagarc said. “I know better than to disregard boasting from these Toa,” Bandiaca told the Raiders, not as a friendly warning, but a warning in general, her voice dripping with acid. “They defeated you. I get it,” Sagarc said, shrugging, “We’re a bit stronger than you, Witch.” “You may have forced us to gain great power than ever before with the Nova Crystals, but you’re nothing compared to Bandiaca,” Cesare said. “I’m touched,” Bandiaca muttered mockingly. He shot her a glare, then looked to them all, “Raiders, Bandiaca has power that you could never believe, that you could never rival. You may have some similar powers, but she is your superior in every way.” “We’ll prove you wrong!” boasted Gamel, lifting his dual trident high, sending a stream of Lightning crackling for Cesare. A wall of Crystal took the hit, then faded. Garren nodded to Cesare, “It just occurred to me. This is the first time we’re doing this.” “Doing what?” demanded Bandiaca. Cesare swung his sword out to his side, his arm behind his body. His left hand came up, clenching into a fist in front of his face. He threw that arm out to the side, span around, and as he lifted his sword, slashed it down, looking up as he slashed down, “The exploding tundra! Toa Cesare!”Agri stood with his feet together, his right side facing the group of enemies. He lowered his weapon, looking out over the top barrel. He span around, dropping to a knee, lifting the weapon and bracing his left arm against the guard of the blaster weapon, looking up at them, “The exploding strength! Toa Agri!” Magis crossed his arms, sighting, showing no enthusiasm, yet he mustered up the strength in his voice as he brought his head up, “The exploding gale! Toa Magis!” Chalice swung both swords down, crossing the blades. Sparks crackled between the tips as he raised his swords overhead, swinging them down to each side of his body, the sparks surging around his body like a radiant sun sparkling behind his body, dark clouds rolling at his sides in a moment, “The surging force of nature! Toa Chalice!” Larc swung her blade behind her body, spinning, flipping it between her fingers. She thrust it forward as she faced towards the groups of enemies again, stopping the spinning of her weapon when it was vertical, “The crashing surge of the ocean! Toa Larc!” Garren drew both arms up in front of his body, flipping his ringed weapons around his hands, then slashing them down to his sides, swords of Crystal spawning out in an instant, digging into the ground, “The refined finite cut! Toa Garren!” “Six Toa now one, determined to destroy the evils plaguing this island!” screamed Cesare. “We are the…,” said the other five. All together. “Toa Cyril Nova!” “A three way war?” Bandiaca hissed, looking to her two main warriors, “Fall back! We’ve already met them in battle enough. Let the Raiders see if they’re good enough to end the threat of the Toa!” Dai and Mirai kept their eyes on the Raiders and their forces while Kaixa, the Anaroids and Bandiaca headed off. The two brought up the rear and ran off after them, leaving it to be a fight between a small army of Bashaa, Leangle, Jaki, and the three Raiders themselves. “We won’t lose this fight,” Uva said, “As leader of the Phantasmal Raiders, I will not allow us to be defeated by you Toa!” “You won’t allow it?” questioned Cesare, “Then you don’t know what it means to be a leader. You don’t have what it takes!” “Are you saying a leader should accept defeat?” demanded Uva. “I’m saying that a leader should be prepared to meet defeat, but shouldn’t expect it one hundred percent. You expect victory with no thoughts of defeat. We always carry thoughts that we could lose, but don’t let it get in our way. “You’re too full of yourselves, of your perceived abilities. That will not bode well for you.” “What do you know, Toa?” demanded Uva, “Are you a leader of people? You have five in your command! I have legions! I need to have absolute victory in mind!” “Five or five thousand, there’s no difference,” Cesare said, “Your mindset will not bode well for your regiment, Raider.” “Kill them!” screamed Uva, pointing his sword towards the six Toa. The Bashaa raced forward, with Jaki and Leangle waiting in the back, waiting to make their move. “Go,” whispered Cesare. The five Toa raced into battle. Agri rolled among the ranks, lifting his arm with great speed, firing three quick bursts with each pull of the trigger. Two at the least fell with each pull. He pulled his Blade Blaster with his left hand, opening fire with that as well, cutting down enemies on both sides of his body. He rose to his feet and leapt forward, kicking a Bashaa in the chest. As it stumbled back, he threw his left hand forward, fist clenched tightly around his weapon’s grip. A fist of Earth rose up, smashing into that Bashaa, sending the shockwave through the body, into the Bashaa collected behind it from the collision, taking them all down. Magis ducked and dodged, slashing with his large sword. He span around, cutting them down all around himself, using his Air powers to help with his spin, to give Air beneath his feet. He drew his claw weapon up, slashing at a few Bashaa that got too close, taking them down. He threw his large sword away from himself, drawing his Blade Blaster into his right hand, slashing with the sword with elegant strikes, his body always moving in a graceful dance of death. His claw weapon tore into throats with great precision, dropping anything that got close. Chalice slashed wildly at both sides, throwing himself into the thickest part of the Bashaa. He span around, slashing his weapons against each other, sending a shockwave of all of his powers forward, taking down a large chunk of Bashaa as the Lightning spread through bodies, taking more and more down each moment. Larc rolled between men, rising and slashing on both sides. She ran forward, her double sided weapon out in front of herself, cutting them down on both sides. She leapt, kicked off of the shoulders of one, and flipped around in the air, unleashing a horde of Water arrows, each being bent by her will, by her control over the element. The arrows each dug themselves into a Bashaa, killing it. Garren walked slowly forward, his swords dragging. When one enemy reached him, he slashed up and down, cutting it down in two strokes. They attacked from all sides, making him slash faster than he ever had before. He showed dedication, never breaking form, doing what worked. That may have been a problem before, and would be one in the future, but at the moment, it was working. It didn’t drain much of his strength, and it cut them down with certainty. It was all they could have asked for. Cesare ran into the crowd, his energy wings spawning off of his shield. He shot through the Bashaa, killing the wings as he shot forward, kicking Jaki multiple times in the chest, tossing the warrior back. Jaki lifted his long arms up, holding his knife weapons, “Come on!” he screamed, racing forward, uncontrolled. Jaki loved nothing more than a good fight. This would be a good fight for him. He slashed wildly, but Cesare was able to block with his sword in one hand, his Blade Blaster in the other. He span around, having switched modes during the spin. He dropped to a knee, opening fire, striking Jaki continually in the chest, knocking him back, sparks flying from each shot. Leangle’s scythe came crashing down at Cesare’s side. Cesare couldn’t stop it in time. It hit a dense pocket of Air, and then a wall of Crystal materialized around it, keeping it pinned. Magis and Garren both cut down opponents on each side of themselves and raced forward, using Blade Blasters to fire on Leangle. The green armored warrior shouted in pain and swung his arm to the side, shattering the Crystal. He swung his weapon overhead and slashed down as hard and as fast as he could. Garren blocked with a wall of Crystal while Magis rolled forward – glided, was more accurate. Cesare noticed he never touched the ground. As much as he hated his armor, he didn’t want to roll to dirty it – and slashed Leangle up the chest with his claw, getting it rooted into a gap between his foe’s armor. “Now’s the chance!” Magis shouted, hammering Leangle with heavy winds to keep his limbs at bay. Garren extended a Crystal sword again and slashed once, severing Leangle’s weapon. Leangle looked to his foe in shock. Just as his weapon had been cut cleanly through, he knew he was next. The blade stopped short. “I’m a Toa. Here, Toa are killers. I’m no assassin, so I’ve met you in open combat. In open combat, people die. You’ll be one of them, and so will I, perhaps, someday. Today, I’m not your killer,” Garren muttered to Leangle. “Then what are you doing, boy?” Leangle hissed. Agri leapt off of Garren’s back, opening fire with his revolving weapon into Leangle’s face. Leangle cried out, stumbling back through the winds, his armor tearing on the claw, opening his chest and the organics that were there. Magis fired alongside Agri, both of them doing serious damage, puncturing through and clipping lungs. Leangle cried out, then slumped back as he ran himself through Cesare’s waiting sword. Cesare kicked him off and rolled forward, avoiding a wild swing of one of Jaki’s knives. He rolled up, span around, and delivered a kick to Jaki’s face, sending him stumbling back. The Raiders and Jaki stood together. Their Bashaa were mostly wiped out, with the survivors keeping well away from the Toa. But Bandiaca’s warriors were seeing to them, picking them off from a distance. Even Bandiaca would launch a strike, and the Raiders were too distracted to stop her magic. Each Toa lifted his Blade Blaster in the firearm mode, except for Cesare, who was too busy swiping cards. “It’s over! Don’t make us kill all of you!” screamed the Toa of Ice. Clearly the others were charging elemental bullets for a quick kill while he was preparing something big. “Light” “Rapid” “Mach” “Kick” “Air” “God Strike!” he screamed, power building rapidly into his foot. The Raiders looked to each other, casting their weapons forward, their tips touching, forming as powerful of a shield as they could muster. Jaki hid behind it, but in front of them, ready to give his life. He may not have done it when he started this battle on Cyril Nui, but he knew they had to survive to keep him alive. If he could stop the dulled God Strike, he could be healed. If not, the strike might kill the Raiders and stop him from getting healing if it hit him too, leaving him to die. He was more resilient, so he could take more than they could. It made sense to him. The blasts flew forward while Cesare took to the air, coming flying down, powered kick ready. Then nobody remembered what happened. None of the Raiders, nor Jaki, anyway. But they were forced to retreat into the ocean all around them, the Bashaa slithering away along with the warriors brought. The Raiders and Jaki were the last to go, having lost too many forces. They had to regroup, they had to reorder themselves, gain more soldiers. Their campaign against Cyril Nui was over. “We win yet again,” Cesare said, “Whether it be Bandiaca, or these Phantasmal Raiders. We win. Cyril Nui will not fall. This we all vow!” The island may have been in ruins, but it was safe. Bandiaca had decided to retreat, the Raiders couldn’t fight again. Things were looking up. If only the Toa knew that ‘Forte’ was meant to have a corpse. If only they knew he hadn’t retreated. If only they knew that another figure walked the island. One who would challenge them once more. One who commanded Thunder, one who mastered Emotion. One who was Eternal.Review
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Chapter 19: ‘Forte’’s Final Fight! Where was he? Where was the man who used the sword of his rival? ‘Forte’ demanded to fight Cesare, but after some explosion occurred, their duel had drawn to an end, and the Toa of Ice was nowhere to be seen. A swordsman. A worthy swordsman. That’s what ‘Forte’ desired. That’s all ‘Forte’ wanted. A rival. A duel. Every one of the Toa was a swordsman. All of them had a sword as a result of their Blade Blaster. Some of them had swords as their personal weapons, in some regards. He knew that Chalice had two swords, that Larc had a bow/sword combination, and that Garren always changed his weapons from slicing weapons into the guards of swords. He’d even settle for Garren as an opponent. He saw Bashaa all around him. His sword was feeling heavy in hand, as if desiring, thirsting for vengeance, for something to cut. He shouted, cleaving a Bashaa in half with a single blow. None of the Bashaa around tried to stop him, nor did they take notice. He started to slash at other Bashaa, slaying them. When he saw Anaroids, he felt joy. He raced forward, dodging the attacks they used, cutting them down, meeting only two swords during these attacks. They were worthless opponents. They couldn’t stop him or his sword. “Why can’t I find a proper opponent?” he screamed, slashing a wall. A cut went through the bricks of the wall. The entire wall fell, sliced all the way through; the entire building itself. The wall he had slashed, the wall connecting at the corner, the wall perpendicular to the one he had slashed. The pure force of his slash had severed three walls, when he had only touched one. Such was his power. “Oy!” ‘Forte’ turned, looking at the figure whom had spoken to him. It was Leangle, scythe leaning on his shoulder. He walked towards ‘Forte’, shaking his head. “What do you want?” spat ‘Forte’. “You need to find an opponent and fight,” Leangle stated, “You’re not doing us any good killing our own men!” “What about you?” demanded ‘Forte’. “I’m searching for an opponent,” the green warrior stated, “I’m looking. I’m not wasting time. I know Sasword found himself an opponent.” Leangle looked out at the destroyed streets around them, “This island has never looked better,” ‘Forte’ muttered to him. “What do you mean?” “This island is a dystopia, you know that, right?” A nod. “This island has stood as a symbol of life. It tries to look like a proper civilization, a place for proper life to flourish. It isn’t. This way it looks like it should. A torture for the Matoran living here.” “And you care about the Matoran?” questioned Leangle. “No, I’m stating that it’s poetic, in a way. When they had peace in dystopia, it looked unlike it should. When war comes, and they’re in fear, it looks like it should.” “You need to find an opponent. Fast,” Leangle muttered, shaking his head, “Your deep thinking really isn’t befitting you. It makes me embarrassed to know you as one of my comrades.” “You want to be my opponent?” hissed ‘Forte’, lifting his sword, “I thirst for someone to face me.” “I’m no swordsman,” muttered Leangle, “I’m a killer. There’s a difference.” “Yes, I know that,” the robotic warrior nodded, “I just need a foe. Only Hoji could ever give me the fight I wanted.” “You realize that Bandiaca is attacking us, right? She’s brought some warriors with her. Swordsmen. Maybe you’d like to fight them?” “Do you know their identities?” questioned ‘Forte’. “Mirai and Dai,” he answered, “Or so our intelligence tells us.” “You mean what I told you?” “Yes.” The two men stood in silence. ‘Forte’ lifted his weapon to his shoulder and started to walk off, “Well, I’m going to go and search out a foe, if you wouldn’t mind my leaving.” “Go. Do our job and kill!” ‘Forte’ nodded grimly as he walked away. Mirai slashed, but Sasword parried with his large blade. Sasword wasn’t a good swordsman, but he was capable of utilizing his blade for defense. It annoyed Mirai that such a weak warrior could put up such a defense against him. He ducked under Sasword’s swing, driving his sword up. The blade just scratched Sasword’s chest as the green warrior dodged back, turning and lifting his weapon. Energy built up in the blaster, flying through the air, sizzling as it lashed out at Mirai. Mirai lifted his arm, using his shield to parry the attack. The concussive blast threw him back, causing him to dig his feet into the ground, trying to gain his footing. He drove his sword into the sheath, taking two quick steps forward, and drew his weapon, sending a blast of Fire sizzling through the air, smashing it into Sasword, causing him to scream in pain and stumble back, his armor burning. “I’m too strong for you,” Mirai said, “I’m a swordsman, you’re a gunner. There’s an obvious difference in our skill levels. You’re far beneath me.” “You think I’m weak because I use this?” Sasword shouted, showing his mechanical arm. He leapt forward, swinging his large sword down, but Mirai blocked it with ease with his sword. He kicked Sasword in the chest, causing him to stumble back. He lifted his weapon up, getting ready to open fire. Mirai expected it. He ducked on instinct. The blast went down, as expected, due to his duck. Mirai pushed all of his strength into his legs, jumping the attack. He came down, slashing down with all of his might. His strength filled every part of his body, strength drawn from his weapon. By drawing on the elemental and energy properties of his combination of sword and shield, he diverted the attacks that he could have used away into pure energy and strength for his body. The blade touched Sasword’s head, cleaving him in half. The two halves of Sasword fell to either side of Mirai. He showed no emotion for his win. He simply knew that he had been superior, and meant to win. He turned, “Ah, ‘Forte’. You’ve changed,” he drew his sword towards the mechanical warrior, “Shall we dance with death?” ‘Forte’ grinned, “Yes. I’ve been wanting a good duel for a while. You will do.” Mirai sheathed his sword, putting his hand to the hilt, getting ready for an attack. He watched as ‘Forte’ lifted the tip of his sword towards Mirai, waiting to spring into action. They circled around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, ‘Forte’, desiring to duel, lunged forward. He thrust his sword forward, but Mirai dodged, rather than strike it. “Draw!” screamed ‘Forte’. “No,” Mirai muttered, spinning around and kicking ‘Forte’ in the chest, knocking him back, “You’ll duel the way I want to.” “Draw!” The sword came down. Mirai span around, dodging back and throwing his other leg up as a kick, slamming his foot into ‘Forte’’s side, causing him to stumble. Mirai pushed forward, driving his knee up into ‘Forte’’s chest, causing him to stumble back again. Then he drew his sword for the first time, not channeling any powers. He slashed once, causing sparks to fly from ‘Forte’’s chest, causing a dark wound to appear. He lifted his arm, turned the blade, and slashed down, missing the head, but glancing the chest, causing sparks to fly again, causing another dark wound to appear. ‘Forte’ lunged forward, but Mirai lifted his sword to parry, letting his foe’s blade dance off of his. He twisted his wrist, plunging forward, but ‘Forte’ dodged. ‘Forte’’s blade came forward, but Mirai blocked with his shield. He pushed back, span around, and kicked his foe in the chest, causing him to stumble back. “We’re not getting very far like this,” muttered Mirai. “I know,” hissed ‘Forte’. He leapt forward, slashing, but Mirai span around, running down the street. He slid, dodging ‘Forte’’s lunge. Then ‘Forte’ saw it. He saw Bandiaca, attempting to fend off Bashaa, using her powers to keep the Raiders at bay while Anaroids and Kaixa fought off the Bashaa around her. She was covered in wounds, panting with exhaustion, her life and her energy draining away as she continued to cast attacks forward. “Look,” Mirai told ‘Forte’, “Do you remember the honor you felt fighting for Bandiaca? You were her right hand. You were her bodyguard. Her greatest warrior, some said. Yet you would abandon everything?” “You guys hunted me,” ‘Forte’ hissed, “You turned against me! Do you want me back now that you’re losing?” “We’re winning,” Mirai stated. “Then why do you want me now?” hissed ‘Forte’ in question. “Because you’re a survivor. You truly want to fight. We could use someone who breaths combat on our side. We have none without you,” Mirai explained, “Join us, ‘Forte’. Bandiaca can use her magic to return you to normal, I’m certain. You can join us and rule! I still have a soft spot for you, no matter what I’ve done to you. Take your last chance, ‘Forte’.” “No,” he hissed without a thought. “You’re content with the Raiders?” questioned Mirai. ‘Forte’ nodded, “I am, surprisingly.” “Then we have no need of you,” Mirai replied, whipping around, throwing his sword out. ‘Forte’ managed to parry and stumble back, surprised by Mirai’s strength. “Mirai!” screamed Bandiaca. Mirai turned to his commander. He shook his head, “Another day,” he told ‘Forte’, rushing off, leaping into the Raiders, fending them off with his sword, while they were just able to defend themselves with their powers. He raced past them, quickly cutting down the warriors who struck at Bandiaca. ‘Forte’ watched, clenching his fist tighter around the hilt of his sword. Mirai was a worthy foe, but why had the man left? He would be back…but he needed a fight. Now! What was this? When the Raiders had changed him, he had been under their control. He had served only them. But…what was this, then? Was this a result of gaining his own mind back? Was this somehow his mind fighting the innate programming he had within himself? Was this insanity, this drive to fight, the result of the Raiders and his own wills colliding? Were they calling to him to join them? Activating his old programming once again? But would that provide a fight? It would. It wouldn’t be his type of fight. It would be because of programming. It wouldn’t be the duel he sought. It wouldn’t be one he would enjoy enough. “I’m not surprised that you’re here,” said a familiar voice. Dai. He knew without turning. “Will you be my foe?” questioned ‘Forte’. “Come with me,” he replied, pointing towards a ridge overlooking this part of the island, using his sword – Onyx Kardas – to point. “Fine,” ‘Forte’ replied, watching as Dai departed. ‘Forte’ ran at the enemies before him, cutting down a few of the Anaroids, his sword cutting through Bashaa just the same. He ignored the shouts of the Phantasmal Raiders. He didn’t care. He span around, pointing the tip of his sword to them. “I don’t care about you people,” he hissed, “Send Jaki after me if you want. I don’t care. I want a duel. At this point, Mirai won’t provide it for me. I need Dai, who waits for me.” The Raiders didn’t answer him. He could feel it in the air that they were preparing to launch an attack at him. If he was going to become a wildcard, they would have nothing to do with him. They were ready to kill him. He wouldn’t let them. He turned and started off in the other direction, towards the duel. “This is it,” Dai said, lifting the tip of his black sword. ‘Forte’ put the tip of his to it, “For you.” The tips of their swords touched for a few moments, then both swung back, swinging forward, their swords meeting. They pushed, but Dai was stronger. He had the guard to push his hand against, and also the weight associated with it, forcing ‘Forte’’s sword down. He ran it up the length of his foe’s sword, and in one move, it was over. ‘Forte’ collapsed onto his knees, clutching his chest. Sparks flew from his mechanical parts inside of his body. He looked after Dai as the warrior walked away, sheathing his sword. “I’m not done!” screamed ‘Forte’. “You are,” replied Dai, “You can no longer fight. Lift your sword.” ‘Forte’ couldn’t. “What use is a swordsman without his sword arm?” Dai posed as a question. ‘Forte’ screamed, unable to lift his sword. His life. He couldn’t let it go, however. He was a swordsman until the end. He felt the tip of the black blade in his back. He looked down, “Are you going to end it, Dai?” The blade was between the fins running along ‘Forte’’s back. A plunge, even right here, would end it. “I’m sorry. I always liked you,” Dai said, and then it was over. “What’s this, then?” A mechanical body of blue and silver armor, looking like a sea beast. It clutched a sword hard in its unmoving hand. It had died a warrior. Died fighting. This man was a warrior. Part flesh, part machine. More machine than most. He was a cyborg by nature, that much was apparent. A cyborg didn’t feel the pain of any other being that lived in this universe. He would feel pain, but he would be an effective warrior. The will to keep clutching that sword, even in death, was proof of this. “I need a second,” the figure said to himself, looking down at the battles raging on the island below this ridge. It was chaos, three sides fighting, by the look of it. And by the look of all of the ocean creatures, this warrior was one of them. The figure lifted a staff over the fallen mechanical body. Power erupted from the end of the weapon, seeping down into the battered, broken body of this oceanic cyborg. After a few moments, energy shone through the wounds on the body, through the mortal wound on the back and the minor wounds across the rest of the body. “What is your name?” he questioned as the figure rose, the crimson eye flashing to life. “I am ‘Forte’.”“All we’ve been fighting for comes to this. Will we win? Will the Raiders? Bandiaca? Who has Destiny on their side? Who has the strongest Unity? Who thinks their Duty is to this island? Regardless, we’re about to find out. Next time: “Chapter 20: The Perilous Depths” Grace like the rain.”Review
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Chapter 18: The Pirates and the Witch! “Are you sure this is what you want, Mistress?” M’hou asked, cowering away from Bandiaca. He didn’t like her when she was like this. When her rage ran unchecked like a storm lashing out at a ship stuck at sea. He felt like that ship, being near death, begging for it to stop. Her dark temper had caused her to loose some of her powers, just enough to cause him to be at ease. Probably enough that they would eventually kill him if he didn’t walk away soon. “I shall divert the resources and activate the projects, then,” M’hou said. The projects were built, but just waiting to be activated. The activation alone would cause them to lose their squads of Batsuroids. But these machines would be stronger than the Batsuroids, even if there were only two, compared to the fifty or so Batsuroids. The Anaroids were already on Cyril Nui, raging war against the footsoldiers and the warriors utilized by the Phantasmal Raiders. The Anaroids were able to hold their own, but not defeat some of the more powerful enemies, the commanders. “Have Dai and Mirai ready to leave with them,” Bandiaca hissed. “Only the two of them, Mistress?” M’hou asked. She nodded, “Yes. Just the two swordsmen. They’ll be enough to fight through the forces of the Raiders. They’re the only two who aren’t under my command; who will think for themselves the way they must in order to achieve victory. “They are the only two who can do this job for me. Two enemies of ours are too much for my mindless soldiers, no matter how many we throw at them. We need these two, since we’ve lost ‘Forte’. Have them mobilized with…” “Kaixa and Faiz,” M’hou said, “Kaixa and Faiz.” M’hou hurried away, dodging around Mirai and Dai as they passed him. Dai’s sword currently had a larger guard affixed to it, allowing a stronger swing due to more weight, and for his hand to have more of a grip. This would allow him to cut down more enemies with great ease. As the two swordsmen stood beside Bandiaca, M’hou returned with his two warriors in tow. The first, Kaixa, was a blue, silver and black machine warrior. A bit taller than a Matoran, it had clawed silver feet with black building up into the strong, blue legs. Silver armor filled out above the knees, with large sheets of blue armor over the chest, with some gray armor underneath it. Silver, claw-like armor came up over the shoulders, sloping back, with black armored arms and blue and silver tipped claws made up the arms of this warrior, while silver wings projected from Kaixa’s arms for flight. A small, silvery wire tail lashed around on the ground, acting as another weapon for this machine. A blue head came up with no detail, and a glowing crimson eye took in every detail it could. A jetpack was mounted on its back, allowing for the wings to be used for flight. The second machine that stood beside M’hou was Faiz, wearing mostly silver armor. Feet with two claws emerged at the bottom, with large plates and claws coming off of the back for affixing Faiz to the ground. Strong silver legs opened up to large silver armor above the knee. The chest was the only gray on the body, covered in a plate of silver, with some silver hanging down like a fin underneath the body itself. Sleek silver armor came back off of the tops of the arms, with small silver arms, but strong looking at the same time. The left hand ended in claws – two, like the feet. The right ended in a large crossbow that would fire rapid energy bolts forward, with another blaster attachment atop it for drawing energy from the environment into the weapon. A sleek silver helm covered the head, with two optical eyes staring out. Mirai, Dai, Kaixa and Faiz stood before Bandiaca, awaiting her absolute orders. She lifted her staff high overhead, energy glowing from the tip. “Today is the day we take the island of Cyril Nui!” she decreed to the four of them, to her personal messengers and warriors, “Today we slay the Phantasmal Raiders, and we deal with the Toa Cyril! We win on this day!” “What of the Raiders themselves?” Dai questioned her, “I believe we could defeat them, but they have…powers. Mirai and I may not be able to handle them, if they were to unleash attacks on us from a distance, or something of the sort.” Bandiaca smiled grimly, “That is why I am leading this attack personally,” she hissed, “I shall deal with the Raiders. They may think their powers are enough to win the island…but no. My magic is superior! I shall show them that they are nothing to me! They are like a candle to the roaring flame that is me.” Mirai and Dai nodded to her. The machines said nothing, as they could not speak. They did nothing but stand there, awaiting orders. “Go,” she hissed. “The worms are hiding,” muttered Uva, leaning his long sword against a destroyed wall. After their run in with Garren, they had been unable to locate any other Toa. They saw destruction all around from their forces, from Bandiaca’s forces, and deaths that could be the result of either Bandiaca or the Toa. It was hard to tell what was going on. “We’ll flush them out,” Sagarc said, lifting his large crescent sword. He pulled a Matoran out of the rubble of a building – his hiding place hadn’t been effective – and held him by the throat, using his powers to lift the Matoran into the air. He lifted his blade to the Matoran’s throat, “Scream out for the Toa or I’ll cut your throat,” Sagarc hissed. The Matoran started to scream out, causing a smile to spread to Sagarc’s face. As the screams carried through the rubble, nothing happened. Disgusted, Sagarc cut the Matoran’s throat, dropping the corpse that had almost no head. “Let’s try again, amplify the screams,” Sagarc muttered, looking to Uva and Gamel. “We don’t want to slaughter all of them,” Uva reminded, “We need workers.” “Then why kill them at all?” Gamel questioned, looking to the corpses of some as a result of the Bashaa hunting them down. “We needed to provoke the Toa into fighting,” Uva stated simply, “How better than slaughtering some of the Matoran?” Gamel grunted his approval of the tactic, simple as it was. Uva took his sword up again, “Let’s move,” he muttered, heading away from the other two. “And when we find the Toa?” Sagarc called, “I realize, we don’t know your plan!” “I don’t have one,” he muttered back. “You expect our powers to be enough?” questioned Sagarc. “What was your plan if the Matoran’s screams had brought them here?” questioned Uva. Sagarc nodded, “Our power would be enough.” “You had hope alone?” “I know it will be enough,” Sagarc replied. “How do you know that?” “When the three of us join for a common cause, you know we’re invincible,” Sagarc answered. A burst of Lightning tore through the ground around the Raiders. It never struck them, only tearing up the ground around them, sending rubble flying everywhere. They braced themselves, looking around for the source, but not finding it. They stared straight ahead. They saw the area before them warp as a figure took form. Bandiaca, having hidden in plain sight, lowered her staff, Lightning still dancing dangerously around the end of her weapon. “Your powers are impressive,” she hissed, “Without doing anything; you were able to stop my attacks.” “Our powers react accordingly with yours,” Sagarc said, “Didn’t you know that? We knew of your power and built ourselves up a defense against you. We knew we would fight you eventually. I found a way to negate your powers.” “You were hoping you could defeat us, weren’t you?” hissed Uva, lifting his blade, “Your powers are nothing to us!” The three pooled their powers. A fist of air slammed through the air, sizzling with power. Bandiaca could feel it flying forward, lifting her left hand up, palm facing towards the oncoming attack. It stopped. “I can annul your powers as well,” hissed Bandiaca, throwing her hand forward harder and farther. A kinetic explosion tore through the air, flames belching towards the three Raiders. Gamel took two steps in front of the others, swiping his double ended trident in front of himself. The flames stopped, as if hitting an invisible wall. They moved, as if striking the aforementioned wall, then redoubled back towards Bandiaca, Lightning racing forward as well as Gamel threw some of his own power into the attack. She smiled grimly, throwing both arms out to her sides. The attack vanished. “What’s your next move?” questioned Uva, getting ready to strike. She smiled grimly as Uva started to choke. He cried out, his throat closed, unable to draw any breath into his body. He couldn’t even scream. Sagarc slashed his sword towards Bandiaca. A brilliant wave of shimmering light blasted forward, Lightning dancing around the outsides, twirling around into the point of a spear. It struck an invisible wall of power Bandiaca had thrown out in front of herself. “I may not be able to overtly strike, but your companion will soon be dead,” Bandiaca hissed, “You’d better figure out how to stop my covert attacks, or you’ll all die in time.” The Raiders knew she was right. “Gamel!” barked Sagarc, slashing his sword towards Uva, getting ready to kill Uva by the look of it. Gamel nodded, throwing his weapon forward. A wave pulsed off of it, striking the ground, causing dust to be thrown up to eliminate Bandiaca’s eyesight. By the time she dispersed it, she saw Uva catching his breath, a wound in his side from Sagarc’s weapon. Somehow Sagarc had cast away her choking attack. It didn’t matter. Her forces were in place. “Die,” she hissed, “Die like the scum of the bottom of the ocean that you are!” “What?” hissed Uva, regaining his breath. A blast of Lightning struck the three of them, causing them to scream out in pain, all of them thrown aside. They struggled up, using weapons to support themselves. Mirai walked towards them, tip of his sword glistening with Lightning. “Magic? No,” he hissed, “Power. Pure power. You may naturally stop the magic of Bandiaca, but not my powers.” The Raiders would have to take time in order to stop him. They would have to change their defensive powers, but then they may be weak against Bandiaca’s magic. One couldn’t stop Mirai while two stopped Bandiaca, or vice-versa. None of them alone had the strength in order to stop Bandiaca. All three had to do it. While one stopped Mirai, Bandiaca would pick off all three of them in one fell swoop. “Ohja! Get out here!” screamed Uva. A figure crawled out of the darkness of a rundown building that was nearby. This was Ohja, the only guardian that the Raiders had brought with them.Ohja looked like a silver and gray turtle. Silver clawed feet covered the back legs, with silver claws coming down the legs. The front was shield-like limbs which provided roots as it walked, as well as defenses. A sleek silver head stared out, showing intellect. A large cannon was mounted over the shell on his back, acting like a magnetic cannon that could turn in any direction. The cannon swiveled, unleashing a blast of power at Mirai. He sheathed his sword on his arm shield and lifted it, parrying the attack. He cast his arm aside, sending the power flying into the ground. He cast a glance to Bandiaca, “Faiz will deal with this,” he stated. “What are you going to do?” demanded Bandiaca. A blast struck the spot where Mirai was just standing; he had just flipped out of the way. He pointed his finger towards the street parallel to them, “The two enemies you worry about are over there, Bandiaca,” he said, racing off towards Leangle and Sasword. Bandiaca snapped her fingers, “Faiz!” she snapped. The silver machine appeared quickly at her side, lifting the large crossbow weapon it carried. Ohja turned the cannon on the new arrival, firing off a bolt of Magnetism. Faiz was fast, able to dodge with ease. The machine was being drawn to the spot that had been hit by the cannon attack, but was lifting the bow, opening fire, drawing on the magnetic powers around itself to power the weapon. The crossbow energy bolts continued to strike Ohja, but none of them seemed to do the desired damage. The hunched down, shielded turtle warrior was too resilient. Bandiaca could have done something, but she was keeping an eye on the Raiders. They had decided to rush her, all of them readying their weapons for a quick kill. She swept her staff aside, sending Lightning between the three and herself, keeping them at bay. They dodged back, keeping their eyes on her. They withdrew the Lightning with their powers, but couldn’t get any closer, as she would quickly throw another defense up. “It’s only a matter of time until we can reach you,” hissed Uva. “I have more power than you could ever dream of having, you little scum,” she hissed, “My power is going to be enough to keep you all at bay until one of my men arrives to behead all of you. I know I can’t do it,” she cast her hand forward, finding that her covert magic hadn’t worked, even though she could have easily slipped through any defense they had set up to stop generic attacks of hers. They seemed to have made a stronger defensive wall around themselves. Bandiaca continued to watch. Ohja was downed, dead. Faiz span around, opening fire from behind, silently. The Raiders all cried out, stumbling around as they took hits. Bandiaca cursed; the Magnetic attacks had damaged Faiz’s optical sensors, causing the fatal hits to be glancing instead. That was a problem. But enough fire would soon eliminate all three of them. Faiz was downed instantly, however. She saw a Bashaa had run Faiz through from behind with its blade. She threw her hand forward, sending Lightning rippling from her palm at the Bashaa, wiping out the warrior. An idea flashed in Sagarc’s eyes, “Bashaa!” he screamed, throwing his weapon up, calling out for the footsoldiers. Bashaa started to appear all around them. They all raced for Bandiaca, causing her to strike them down one by one, unleashing slightly more powerful spells to cut more down this time, wiping out the first wave quickly. “We have you!” shouted Uva. As more came, she lashed out, but her attacks stopped short as the Raiders lashed their own powers out, canceling hers out, stopping the attacks from touching their soldiers. She cursed, trying to lash more out, but they all stopped short, unable to hit their targets. What was happening? Bashaa were upon her, slashing at her, causing her to stumble, scream out in pain. She lashed out with her staff, catching a few, but she wasn’t strong enough to stop them all. She took a stab to the chest, screaming out. Her powers were canceled the moment they came out, meaning no matter how short, it couldn’t strike. She was going to die.“All he ever wanted was a worthy opponent, and that was Hoji. Now he’s a lost soul, searching for an opponent. Let’s all give a moment of silence… Next time: “Chapter 19: ‘Forte’’s Final Fight!” Here I go!”Review
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No idea if this is a trustworthy source, but this should happen. Cumberbatch as the Master for the 50th anniversary. If their schedules work out, of course.
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Chapter 17: Rampaging Chalice In the chaos of the battle, Chalice was stumbling about through the streets. Disorientation filled his brain; his vision was blurred. He could smell the acrid burning of muscles, his lungs pumping furiously. He was burning. His organics were being burned by his armor. His armor was imprinting onto them, burning with intense heat. His body, other than that, was completely battered. He had no hope to escape the battles. He could see Anaroids fighting against Bashaa. Anaroids? Why were they there? Did Bandiaca get involved in the battle? But why would she? What purpose would she have for fighting this fight? Or did she want to take a shot against the Phantasmal Raiders? But why? Because they had taken her place in attacking? Because they were getting closer to winning than she had been? But he had heard that Bandiaca tried a similar tactic and lost. He hadn’t known the extent during the attack, but the Toa told him about how large it was. This seemed to rival that attack. Was she afraid it would be successful where hers failed? But then again, there were three rookies fighting this time, unlike last time. Maybe she saw this time as beneficial, unlike the last. Chalice slumped against a wall. He watched two Bashaa rush him. He cursed and drew up both of his swords, slashing both arms forward, unleashing a burst of Storms power from both tips, slamming rampaging, unchecked powers into each of them, ripping them apart rather than just subdue them. “I like that,” a voice behind him said. He span around, the wall exploding. He was hit by a few pieces of rubble, stumbling to and fro, but he managed to remain on his feet, facing the figure whom had just burst through the wall he had leaned on. He drew his blades up, getting ready to unleash a Storm attack on him, but he paused. Why did he pause? That instant was all his foe needed. The being moved forward, slamming his palm into Chalice’s chest. There was a thump; a burst of intense heat radiating between them, a shockwave, but never sound; only sensation. This sensation filled Chalice’s entire body, causing his eyes to shoot open as a silent scream escaped. “I’m Mezool,” the figure said, “Who are you?” Chalice was in too much pain to answer. He fell on the ground, writing in pain. He looked up, getting a look at his foe. Mezool was silver and blue armored. Silver clawed feet with silver overlaying blue legs, with silver and spiked armor above. The body was dark blue with some silver overlay, with blue and silver arms as well as silver clawed hands. A rounded silver head topped off Mezool’s body, with a single green eye glaring out. A large shield-like shell covered Mezool’s back, providing a powerful back defense. Mezool continued to look down, then shrugged, stepping on him with a powerful clawed foot, crushing him into the ground, causing cracks to appear. Chalice tried to shout in pain, but again, couldn’t. “Your strength will return to your voice soon,” Mezool said, looking at his claws, “It always takes some time for my victims to…regain their strength, after I’ve touched them. Their strength has to be diverted elsewhere first, then sent right back into where it’s properly needed. For you, your strength is being sent to your entire body; but that’s still not right. “The strength moving around your body like that isn’t natural. You see, the strength that you need in order to move your body isn’t the same strength that I just caused to move around inside of you. It’s different, since it was touched by my powers. It’ll only take a few more moments, and you should be able to move again, and speak.” Mezool took a step back. Chalice had found the strength to rise to his feet. He swayed for a few moments before finding his core, staying standing, perfectly still. “What do you feel?” questioned Mezool. “Rage,” Chalice hissed, his voice cracking as he attempted to keep it under control. His eyes were glazed, glazed with ravaging hate, with roaring desire, passion. The desire to crush Mezool where he stood. “My victims feel enraged at first. It’s natura…” Mezool didn’t finish. Chalice had cast his weapons aside, gripping Mezool’s head in one hand, slamming it into the cracked wall behind the Phantasmal Raider warrior. He continued to beat until Mezool moved no more. Then he let his deceased foe drop. Chalice reclaimed his weapons and walked away from the site, looking around the battle. He lifted his weapons, unleashing blasts of Storms in all directions, letting his powers twist around, take on paths of their own choosing as he released his control, letting them smash into enemies everywhere, of both factions. As he continued to walk, he saw a figure up ahead. He stopped. Mezool. “I see,” Mezool muttered, “I don’t know what happened.” “How are you alive?” screamed Chalice. “You didn’t kill me, obviously,” Mezool said, fully expecting that to be an adequate answer. He wasn’t being smart or coy with Chalice, wasn’t trying to give him an insult to his intelligence. He was just answering the question. Chalice screamed and threw both arms forward, unleashing twin blasts of Storms from his blades. Mezool ducked, taking the shots onto his back, protecting himself with his large shell-like shield. He rose again as the power failed to smash through his defense, turning to face Chalice. “I fully intended to leave something in you. It would have been an overwhelming emotion; one of defeat. I wanted you to face absolute defeat, Toa. But…what is this? Rage? How did this happen? “It’s not an aftereffect of my powers; that would have worn off by now. You don’t seem to have the mental conditioning to forcefully redirect the goal of my powers once they are released. What did you do? Tell me!” Chalice could provide no answer. He ran forward, slashing wildly, dancing with death itself. Every blow missed as Mezool expertly dodged and weaved, intent on keeping his head on his shoulders. He span around, letting a blade glance off of his shield, sending a thin stream of sparks out from the impact. He took a step forward, punching Chalice once, then slashed him with his left claw, sending three trails of sparks and three dark marks on Chalice. Chalice shouted and kneed Mezool in the chest. Hard. Mezool stumbled back, taking a punch from Chalice to the face. As he stumbled, Chalice leapt forward, slamming both swords down, catching the serrated edges on his shoulders. He gave a shout and pulled down as hard as he could, causing showers of sparks to fly as each blade dug into Mezool’s armor, causing the turtle-like warrior to cry out in pain. “Bashaa!” he screamed, calling out for backup. A handful of Bashaa started to emerge, racing for Chalice. He paid them no heed. Mezool was the object of his hate, of his rage. He drew a sword back, screaming as he slammed it down for the kill. A Bashaa parried, using its own body as a shield. Needless to say, it died. But not only that, it was torn in half from the blade’s brute strength. He shouted, throwing the corpse aside and driving his second blade for Mezool’s chest. Mezool took the blow, crying out as he was slammed through a building. The Matoran cowering for their lives inside screamed and fled. One was crushed under the rubble, dying instantly. Chalice walked over the rubble, stepping on an armored hand that was sticking out at an awkward angle, never noticing it. His rage was focused on Mezool. “I’ll stop you!” Mezool screamed, drawing his hands up to his optical eye. Energy gathered between his hands from his eye. He cast his hands forward, sending the energy blasting forward, into Chalice’s chest. He took the shot and was thrown outside of the building, staying down. A large black burn was on his chest, sizzling, steaming. But in a moment he was on his feet again, coming for Mezool. Nothing could stop him. Bringer of death. That’s what he was. For Mezool, at least. Mezool knew it, too. He had unintentionally created a monster. He threw more energy bolts forward, but every time after that first shot, Chalice used his swords to deflect them into the ground. He drew his arms back and ran forward, doubling over to keep low, to keep wind resistance down as he ran. What wind – inside of a building – he didn’t know, but he felt right doing it. He leapt as he reached just short of Mezool, spinning around, slashing with both blades as he came down, sending showers of sparks flying from Mezool’s chest. The turtle-like warrior cried out, then slumped forward in a dull shout of pain as Chalice plunged his sword through his foe’s chest. Bringer of death. Death wrought. Chalice pulled his sword free, letting Mezool slump on the ground. He walked towards the other wall of the building, unleashing a blast of his powers to crush the wall before him, allowing him to walk right out. He didn’t bother to look back at the Matoran shouting at him. He didn’t care about them. Matoran wouldn’t put up a fight. Granted, Bashaa, Anaroids and Batsuroids were beneath him, but they would fight, at least. But then he thought. He had never faced a Batsuroid before…maybe it would be fun. Anaroids and Bashaa launched attacks at him as he passed. Every time they would meet firm wind resistance, and if they proved to be worth his while, he would turn and slash them across their throats in one swift move, putting them down. Sometimes he would switch to his Blade Blaster and fire at them in their faces, point blank. Nothing could oppose him. Mezool had caused this, and now Mezool was dead. Not even the death of the caster could return the emotional stability of the target. It was effective in some regards, but this wasn’t one. Not for Mezool, not for the Raiders. He stopped when he heard a name. A familiar name being shouted. But what was the name? He realized it was his own name being shouted from a hoarse voice. A familiar voice, but the familiarity couldn’t be placed to a face, to an identity. He turned to see the figure of Cesare running towards him, slashing an Anaroid across the chest with his sword. Chalice watched him for a moment. He watched as Cesare proved his swordsmanship by dancing with death, causing all of the Bashaa nearby to fall to their deaths as they attacked in a cluster from all sides. The Toa of Ice seemed a worthy foe. Chalice plunged his right sword into the ground. He lifted his hand, curling it into a fist. Lightning danced and crackled around his fist, begging for release. It screamed for it. It ached to feel Cesare’s body as it lanced into him. Chalice let it have its wish, releasing the strike of Lightning as he simultaneously released strong winds and clouds, attempting to pin Cesare down and keep him in the path of the Lightning strike. Cesare saw the cloud coverage and fog coming in at his sides. He tried to move when he saw the Lightning, but couldn’t. He didn’t panic. Why didn’t he panic? Chalice wanted to see the panic. It would make this worthwhile. Instead, Cesare drew a card from his sword, slashing it. The words echoed around them for a moment, just coming over the sound of the crackling Lightning. “Float” Cesare shot into the sky, avoiding the Lightning at the last moment. He shot down the corridor of heavy winds, slamming his legs into Chalice, sending the Toa of Storms crashing to the ground onto his back. He rolled over, grabbing his sword from the ground, ready to rush Cesare and take him down. He stopped as soon as he was on his feet. The tip of Cesare’s sword was in his face. One more move and he would kill himself. One move and he was sure Cesare would kill him to defend himself. “I don’t know what’s happened, but if you really want to kill me, then do it with the sword entrusted to me by Hoji,” Cesare said, throwing the sword up, catching it by the tip. He held the hilt out to Chalice, the eyes of the Toa of Storms filled with obvious murderous intent, with his building rage, willing to be released. Chalice dropped both of his weapons, took the sword into both hands, drew it back, and plunged it forward with a scream, going for Cesare’s head. Cesare didn’t move. It was about to be over. And then something unexpected happened. Cesare ducked, thrusting a hand up, holding a Rouze Card. The card was pierced, the power activating. “Light” Light erupted from the sword, causing both of the Toa to be blinded. Cesare, at least, expected it and had shielded his eyes. He glanced over as soon as it had faded, looking at Chalice, on the ground, from the shine. He took his sword back up, putting the tip to Chalice’s throat, “Chalice, answer me or I’ll run you through.” Chalice didn’t answer. He moaned in pain. “Last chance.” “Cesare…that hurt,” Chalice grumbled. A thin smile spread to Cesare’s face, “Good. Looks like the power of Light broke whatever hold was over you,” Cesare said, hooking his sword to his hip, helping the Toa of Storms up, “Just don’t strain yourself and within ten or so minutes you’ll be fine.” “What…what happened?” “An enemy made you go on a rampage, it looks like,” Cesare said. “The…” “The swordsman and sniper?” Chalice nodded, “They’re…around. I don’t think it was them.” “It wasn’t. Killed who did it,” Chalice answered. Cesare nodded, “I see. You also did quite a job on the Bashaa and Anaroids around.” “Do you know why those robots are here?” questioned Chalice, his vision returning finally. “No,” Cesare said, disappointed by his own lack of knowledge, “I wish I did. But whatever the reason, we can be sure it’s not good. But at the very least, they’re fighting the Bashaa, not supporting them. And Bandiaca lost a lot of her forces; if she’s making another bid at the island under the cover of the Raider’s attack, I don’t think it’ll work very well.” Chalice nodded, “But…she’s a witch. Her powers may be superior to the Raiders powers.” “Let’s hope that if they are, they kill each other,” Cesare muttered.“I don’t know much about Bandiaca, other than that she’s a witch and a magic user. But the Raiders are magic users as well, or so it would seem. Both command armies, both have similar powers. Who would win, I wonder? Next time: “Chapter 18: The Pirates and the Witch!” Show me!”Review
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Chapter 16: Refined Garren Burning. Why was there burning? What was this sensation alongside it? The feel of a blade cutting him? But why would someone be cutting a simple Ki-Matoran? That’s what Garren wanted to know. And then he opened his eyes, blinking a few times, and then looked around the room. In the room he saw three of his friends whom he shared a building with. On Cyril Nui, Matoran traditionally lived in groups together in the same housing structure, for the sake of saving space for buildings and factories that would be of use to the island itself, as well as for room for when new spires would inevitably be needed, so areas were squared off for such a time, limiting space some more. This room had Garren, a Ga-Matoran named Hina, a Po-Matoran named Giru and a Ta-Matoran named Ankh. They all lived together, always friends, always together, as much as they could be. They managed to all end up working at the same factory, producing textiles for various areas of the island. The island was misery, as usual, this dystopia, but at least they had each other and were all together. “Is something wrong?” Hina asked him, looking at his fearful eyes after waking from his dream of pain. “N-no,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m…it was just a bad dream, that’s all.” “What was it like?” Giru questioned him. To the point as always. “I…no. It’s nothing,” Garren said, but to be polite, he explained anyway, “I…I dreamt I was made into a Toa and fought alongside the team. There was myself, Cesare, Agri, Magis, a Toa of Water named Larc, and a Toa of Storms named Chalice. Like me, Chalice and Larc had just become Toa…” Cutting him off, Giru spoke, “You? A Toa? Did those three need get really desperate, or something? I mean, why you? You’re too…well, I don’t think you could hurt someone like a Toa needs to!” Three… The number seemed to mean something to Garren, but it quickly vanished from his mind before he could figure anything out about what it could possibly mean. He shook his head, “See? Nothing. Just some silly, foolish dream.” Ankh had a fairly smug smile on his face, “So, you dream of being a hero? Are we not good enough for you, Garren?” “No, you guys are great!” Garren quickly said, trying to defend what he had said. “Stop teasing him, Ankh!” Hina scolded, “It sounds like a good dream, Garren. I imagine you could be an amazing hero, an amazing Toa.” “I was!” Garren said, smiling, “I think Cesare considered me to be third in command. In command of Chalice and Larc, at the least. I think I beat out Magis in rank…” “How did you fight?” questioned Ankh, though he didn’t seem to actually care. He just wanted to make conversation. Ankh, like always, not really caring, yet showing care and friendship. Why am I your friend again? Oh yeah… “Well, I had these ring-like weapons with razor edges. They weren’t shields, but slashing weapons for close quarters. I rarely used them like that. I used them as hilts and created blades of Crystal from them, using two swords like that.” “Just swords? Did you shatter them and send shards flying?” Giru asked, getting into the conversation. “Just swords,” Garren said, “I would slash, stab, parry, etcetera.” “How good were you?” questioned Ankh. “Pretty good,” he answered, “I was able to do a lot of damage to the warriors sent to fight us by the Phantasmal Raiders.” “Raiders? What?” questioned Hina. “You mean Bandiaca, right?” Ankh questioned him. Wasn’t it the Phantasmal Raiders? Sea based warriors…ghost pirates? I thought that the witch was defeated a while ago. Wasn’t she…? “Yeah, Bandiaca.” “These…Raiders, is that what you called them?” Hina asked, “What were they like?” “Sea warriors,” Garren explained, “They were ghost pirates, kind of. I don’t think they were really ghosts, though. I guess they went around to different areas under the sea and attacked different islands, and just settled here for now. They had three leaders, but I never saw them before. I don’t know what types of powers they had. They just had a variety of sea creatures at their disposal to fight for them. Various powers, various creatures.” “You think they’re stronger than Bandiaca’s lot?” Giru asked. “I don’t know,” Garren said, “It was a dream, after all. I have no idea how to gauge between reality and a dream.” Why was he calling it a dream? Sure, they had insisted that it was a dream, they had brought evidence that made him realize it was a dream, by reminding him of what was happening on the island, but that still didn’t’ seem right. He wasn’t completely convinced that it was a dream by any means. But then what? He couldn’t argue with them. They were his friends, and why would they try to hurt him? This had to be true, right? He didn’t want to push the issue, not with his friends. He didn’t want to argue with them. He was a kind, refined Matoran. He wouldn’t push such an issue. “Well, can you try?” asked Hina, “I think it would be interesting to know, even if they were just a dream.” “Well, I don’t know which group is stronger,” Garren said, “In my dream, Bandiaca had been defeated for a time, but still persisted and attacked a few times. The Raiders were never defeated by the time I woke up, but we were facing a full island attack. If I had to guess, Bandiaca was stronger, because of her magic.” “What about the magic of the Raiders?” questioned Giru. Hina and Ankh cast quick glances to him. Magic of the Raiders? What? He must have told them that they apparently had powers, potentially bordering on the same magic that Bandiaca used in battle. He just didn’t remember telling them, but he must have. There was no other explanation on how they knew that, so obviously he had to have said something. But again, he didn’t want to press the issue. He figured he must have said something, so he kept quiet now. He didn’t want to push issues. Friends didn’t do that with each other, after all. “I don’t really know much about it. I only heard vaguely about it from the other Toa, specifically Larc, I imagine,” he said, shaking his head, “I can’t remember. Sorry. I must have told you everything I know about it already.” “That’s fine,” Hina told him, “Just go on.” “What do you want to know?” “Well, the Toa Nova. What did you find out? I imagine you sparred,” she said. Bandiaca…but the Toa Nova were just around for the fight against the Raiders, right? Or did they become Nova fighting Bandiaca, and that just carried into my dream in a different way? “Well, what do you mean?” “You ever beat one in battle?” questioned Ankh. “Certainly, yeah.” “How did you do it?” Giru asked him. “Well, Larc was dependent on her…wait. I dreamt her up,” he said. “Go on anyway,” Hina said, “Please.” “Right. Well, she used a bow as her weapon that doubled as a blade. All I ever had to do was stop her Water arrows and get in close. She wasn’t that great in close quarters, it turned out. Then there was Chalice, who used two small swords to fight. He was dangerous when he used his powers of Storms, but after getting around his savage attacks from a range, he was pretty much done. He couldn’t take a hit. “Then Agri. He used his powers of Earth and his blaster weapons with great effect. Dodging his Earth attacks was a bit of a problem, but once you got in close, and could cut anything, like I could, he was done.” “What about from a distance?” asked Hina. “Well, he would use an Earth wall,” Garren said, “Why?” “Just wondering,” she replied. “Go on,” Ankh said. “Well, then there was Magis. He used Air attacks to protect himself and used close range attacks. If someone dodged, he would send Air slashes after his attacks. That worked really well for him. Then Cesare. He was a lot harder to figure out.” “Harder?” Giru asked. “Yeah. He fought depending on the situation, and used new powers based on each situation with his Rouze Cards. He’s really hard to figure out.” “Well, that’s interesting to know,” Ankh said, “That the leader fights differently depending on the situation. Everyone else is fairly static, are they not?” “Yeah…why?” Ankh showed one of his smug smiled, “Oh, nothing.” Garren had an idea. He didn’t want to be rude to them, but maybe they wouldn’t pick up on this. Or maybe they would, just enough for him. “Cesare’s style got really interesting, different, after Hoji left,” he said. “Hoji?” questioned Hina. Garren was on the right track, “Yeah. Hoji told him to take care of that staff that he always envied that Cesare had.” “Ah, the staff,” Giru said, “It is nice, isn’t it?” He had an axe, but now has a sword. Hoji’s sword. They commented that there were only three Toa, but also commented on Hoji’s existence. Why did they leave, then? Or him, at least? What’s happening here? And then, I made that up completely about the staff. Axe, then sword. So…how could I have guessed that? Unless that really was all just a dream and I knew innately that he used a staff. But why the axe then sword in my dream? Something was clearly wrong. “I have a question,” Garren said, “What are we supposed to be working on at work today?” “We’re making boats again,” Giru said, straightforward, “Then fishing after making two more.” They shot him looks, but it told Garren everything he needed to know. “Who are you three?” he hissed, dropping his kindness. These weren’t his friends. He didn’t know who these people were, or what was going on. “Well, you managed to see through the charade,” Ankh muttered, ignoring the fact that they could have tried to bluff him into thinking nothing was wrong. But they all knew that there was no point in continuing. “You just betrayed your allies,” said Hina, smiling grimly. Giru was laughing without saying anything. The three of them flashed. The world around him flashed and changed. Now, standing before him were the three Phantasmal Raiders. He looked around, up at the gray sky. Why was he looking at the sky with them above him? He looked at his chest. Burns, blade wounds. No wonder he had been feeling them. They were there. He looked around. Parts of the city were in ruins from the attack that the Raiders had launched onto the island. Burning everywhere, Bashaa everywhere, warriors everywhere. The three Raiders had weapons poised at his chest and throat, ready to eliminate him. “We’ll kill you now, then eliminate your allies, with your information,” hissed Uva, who had become Hina. Gamel, who was Giru, grinned, “You should have realized it! You looked like such a big fool!” “You’re the fool,” Sagarc muttered to him, “Quiet.” Sagarc had clearly been Ankh. “I can’t believe I let you use me,” muttered Garren, trying to rise, but finding he couldn’t. His weapons were still in hand, but they didn’t help him. He tried to focus, to use his powers over Crystal to get at the Raiders, to end the threat at once, but he couldn’t do anything. “You let us use you,” said Uva, grinning viciously like a beast of prey, “You could have stopped talking at any time.” “But I wouldn’t,” Garren said, “Not when talking to my friends like that.” “Why?” Sagarc questioned. “Because my friends and I aren’t like that. We talk, we’re open with each other. You guys laid the perfect plan by pretending to be them. I would never have stopped talking.” “Yet you tried to trick us,” Uva said, “And apparently succeeded.” “I didn’t really try to trick you guys,” he said, “But as your personas, you didn’t know what I was talking about. I could have lied, said I confused reality with my dream. So yes, I did act against how I usually do, but it could have been quickly covered by a lie.” “Tell me, what is it that you did as a Matoran?” demanded Sagarc, glaring at Gamel for blowing it in that regard, but knowing that none of them knew. Their illusory powers only gave them so much information about the personas they adapted. “Textile production,” Garren told them, clenching his fists tighter, wishing to strike out at them. “Doesn’t matter anymore,” Uva said, “Die.” He screamed out, attempting to rouse his powers. Crystals shot up from the ground around him, raining up, slashing at the three Raiders as they came in at him. This blast of Crystal from the ground would only protect him for so long, however. He rolled onto his stomach and crawled to his feet, struggling to make his arms work for him. Leangle and Sasword must have done a lot of damage. He was sure these wounds were as a result of an encounter with those two. The Raiders put the tips of their weapons together, unleashing a blast of power forward, using everything they had that they could combine. Their powers were at their greatest when together, yet their individual powers did clash. Garren threw his arm forward with all the strength he could muster, managing to raise it. A wall of Crystal shot up, protecting him, but not deflecting the attack, just holding the attack at bay. “Do you really want to fight me?” Garren shouted over the wall, over the attack, “You just took on the forms of the people I care about the most! You tried to make me thing you were them! People I’ve grown to care about so much! Now, tell me, do you really want to try me? Do you really want to see what I can do when enraged?” The attack stopped. He swept his arm out, dropping his Crystal wall, looking around. The Raiders were gone, nowhere to be seen. It seems they had taken his advice and fled, rather than face the angered Toa of Crystal.“I love danger, that’s what makes me a good Toa. That’s what I think, anyway. The others may disagree with that, but that doesn’t matter to me. I know who I am, and who I must be. That’s why this enemy must fall, for he wishes to rob me of that. Next time: “Chapter 17: Rampaging Chalice” Let’s make this showy!”Review
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Chapter 15: Full Fledged Assault by the Phantasmal Raiders Needless to say, it didn’t go well. As soon as the Toa began their attack on the base of the Phantasmal Raiders, they learned that they were not welcome there. It wasn’t that the enemy knew that they were going to invade, rather, it was that the enemy was always ready, always keeping a defense up in case the Toa would attempt such a foolish move. Or if any enemy would ever try such an attack. It wasn’t that there was a small army waiting for them of combatants. That would be a problem for any of them, no matter how good all of them were. It was that they had a large army instead. A large army that was made of Bashaa, led by two specific soldiers that none of them had ever seen before, that none of them could have expected to have ever met. It wasn’t because they knew of these figures; rather, it was because the enemy was so strong. Both of them were similar warriors. They fought as a powerful combination, a powerful tag team. The Toa had attempted to fight them off, as well as the army of hundreds of Bashaa – more than they had ever seen on the island, in their natural environment – and had lost. There was no way they could have won that fight. Nursing their wounds in the temple, Cesare looked around the group. His wounds weren’t a problem. He hadn’t taken too much damage, thanks to the extra protection that his shield offered him. However, he didn’t care about his wounds. He was battle hardened, and pain didn’t really bother him too much, not after how long he had fought, especially alone in battle, long before his Rouze Cards and his great gain in power. Then there was Agri. Agri had a terrible wound on his right shoulder and his chest. A combination of burn wounds, as well as blade wounds and some blaster wounds from one of the green warriors. He was holding his right shoulder in his left hand, cradling his wounded gun arm. He could fight with his left hand, but he didn’t do as well. But he showed too much pride to complain about the pain, or ask for healing. He would rather put up with it and let it naturally heal, or wait for a later date before asking for healing. He knew that other healing came first and foremost. Then there was Magis, who was nowhere to be seen. With the wounds he had taken, he had complained about how terrible he looked. Granted, from the start he hated his armor after becoming a Toa Cyril Nova, but he still couldn’t’ stand it being marred by the weapons of his foes. He was out in the streets somewhere, no doubt looking over himself while sitting on a rooftop, in his element. Then there was Garren. Garren was a great man, and one who would no doubt be a good leader someday. He had taken charge during the battle, and had done his very best to fight off the enemy while shouting orders to his two peers who were also new to being Toa. They had responded well under his leadership, but Garren seemed to care too much. He took their blows for them, no matter how wounded he was. He was loyal to the very end, but it was too much for his own good. Then Chalice. The Toa of Storms was a powerful warrior, with great offensive abilities. However, his offense had led them through waves of Bashaa, but were useless when confronted with attacks from behind. For all of his offensive abilities, he was useless at defense. That’s not to say that he didn’t defend himself, but rather, he just couldn’t take a hit. Especially not from one of these warriors. Finally, there was Larc, the former traitor. She had used her powers over Water to crush many foes by utilizing all of the water around them. Granted, that meant she was the first target. For all of the foes she slew with her great powers, it didn’t do any good if she was taken out within the first few minutes of combat. Now they were alone, still licking their wounds from their loss. “Fighting Bandiaca wasn’t this bad,” Agri muttered. “Granted, you guys never took the fight to Bandiaca,” Cesare said, “She always brought the fight to the island.” “You raise a good point,” Agri nodded. “Well, for all the problems that it was, it gave us a good insight into the power of the enemy,” Garren said, “If only the Raiders were there!” he clenched his fists in anger, shaking as he clenched them harder. Chalice smiled, “It was fun, at least.” “Fun?” exploded Agri, “You think this was fun? This is life and death! I thought you’d have learned by now, Chalice!” “I have!” Chalice shouted, “It…it’s just that old habits die hard, ok?” Cesare nodded, “I know what you mean. I still go out in search of fights sometimes, just for the sake of challenge.” “You’re awfully silent, Larc,” Garren said, looking to the Toa of Water. “I just don’t know what I can say,” Larc admitted, “I betrayed all of you as a Matoran. I was given another chance and led you into the battle against the heart of the enemy. I was in my element! We were a surprise attack, yet they still expected something! The Raiders were even gone! I can’t help but feel this is somehow my fault.” “It’s not your fault,” Cesare said, “How could they have known? How could you have done anything, unless you yourself told them. And we know you didn’t. I, at least, believe that you have changed, Larc.” “Well, that’s all well and good, but what do we do next?” muttered Magis, walking into the temple, ignoring the wounds on his body as he walked proudly in, head held high, despite his vanity. He just wanted to forget his wounds it seemed and go onto their next job, their next decision. “What can we do?” Garren questioned him, “Would you have us go and try to fight again? I figure that for now, all we can do is sit here, heal, and prepare for our next battle. Isn’t that right?” Cesare nodded, “The matter of healing comes first.” “I’ll begin. Who do I heal first?” asked Larc. Before she could get an answer, there was an explosion as the side of the temple rocked, and mortar and bricks exploded inside the temple. The Toa took cover, but the wall was still standing. Only some of it had been blown away. They ran outside, looking across the moat around the temple, to the street that was to the side of the temple. It wasn’t close by any means. It was fairly far away. At least a block or two. Of course, the temple was fairly large, but the shot had been accurate, dead on in the center of the temple. And following the line of sight, there was no way to hit that side of the temple, as a building was there. No hole, no window, nothing on the building. The shot was made from an awkward angle, from an expert hand. There was only one being they knew of who could have done that. “It’s one of those green guys!” cursed Agri. “Fun!” Chalice grinned, then realized what he had just said, “Sorry,” he apologized, drawing his Blade Blaster into his right hand, into sword mode, rather than use his own blades. “Larc, use the water around us to return the attack,” Cesare said, rushing off down the land bridge that acted as their way to the temple, “Garren, Magis, with me! Agri, Chalice, remain back here and cover us with fire!” Garren and Magis took off after Cesare, while Agri, Chalice and Larc remained back, with Larc creating a wall of Water to protect from the next explosive shots, while Agri – with his left hand – and Chalice returned fire, but the angle proved to be problematic for them. As Cesare’s group reached the end of the path, they saw a swarm of Bashaa shoot up from the moat, slashing at their sides and backs, thoroughly exposed. “How did they sneak up on us in the temple?” cursed Magis, shouting, slashing out with his small claw weapon, tearing through one’s throat and flipping another aside when he struck the chest. He whipped around, utilizing his larger blade to cut two down in a spray of sparks. Cesare was utilizing his powers of Ice to freeze them over, rather than cut them own. He whipped around, kicking one in the chest, knocking it into one of its fellows, shattering the frozen one and knocking the living one into the water. He drew his blade, cut one down with a slash across the throat, and span around, driving his sword through the chest of the one in the water. Garren was using his two Crystal swords as usual, cutting them all down with ease. He matched every one of their moves with swift, fluid movements of his arms. He span around, getting away from two, and then lunged forward, driving both blades through the chests of his foes. As the last of the Bashaa fell, a large warrior leapt forward, shouting and slashing a large scythe-like weapon. The three Toa dodged back, but the spray of stone as it collided with the ground smashed into the Toa, taking them down. There stood the leader of the two green warriors. He was large, thickly armored in dark and lime green, with blazing crimson eyes. He had large green feet, thick green spiked armor over his legs under his knees, and thinner, curved and bladed lime green armor above his knees. He had thick mixed colored armor on his chest, with spikes coming off of the chest. Over his arms were massive pieces of armor, doubling as shoulder armor, with large green and black spiked claws coming up over the sides. He had thinner, dark green armor over his arms, with thicker lime green armor shielding them. His gauntlets were lime green in color, his left holding no weaponry, while his right held a massive weapon. It was a long shaft weapon, with a blade coming off and curled down the back, with a large blade coming off, for resting on the ground. He had a hooked blade coming up above that, for getting at opponents who were close, with a guard over his hand that was spiked and curved. Coming up was a scythe, the primary part of the weapon. His head had razors coming off of the tops, with deep red and light green fangs, and his blazing crimson eyes. “You never caught my name last time, Toa,” he said, his voice rustling like dead leaves rubbing together, yet with a slightly bubbling quality to it, to represent his aquatic affinity, “My name is Leangle.” Coming from behind him was a similar warrior. His partner, the sniper who had attacked the temple. Clearly the other three were unable to keep him pinned down, and with good reason; his angle and skill made it hard to strike him. As a sniper, he knew how to move, and move while sniping. But his weapon, closer to them now, looked less like the weapon of a sniper, and more like the weapon of someone who wanted to shoot them down from any range, by any means necessary, to just cut his foes down quickly. The large sword he carried wasn’t his forte, due to the awkward way he carried it. He appeared of the same species as Leangle, but was smaller in stature. He had elongated, clawed green feet, with green, thicker armor over his legs, especially above the knees, otherwise his armor looked to be made for speed, rather than defense. His chest was covered in a lime green plate of armor, lying over the dark green. He had a clawed piece of armor resting over his chest, with a thicker piece overlaying the bottom of it. The claws didn’t look like they were combat ready. His right arm had a dark green piece of armor over his otherwise lime green arm. From that piece of armor above his elbows, he had green prongs erupting, perhaps feelers for the water. He had a green armored hand which wielded his thick blade on top, and a large, curved and serrated blade beneath in a double sided fashion. His left arm was technological, and obviously fake. He had a lime green arm, just the same, but he lacked a hand, which was just a dark green sheet of steel and robotics instead. A claw was affixed, but it didn’t look very useful. On his shoulder, trailing down, was the black projectile weapon he used, with a crimson sight affixed to it. A generator was built on his arm, and on the weapon, creating a concussive blast between the two for launch down his arm, which was built specifically for the task. His head was the same, slicked and spiked, even the fangs were the same, except his green fangs pointed down instead of in. His right eye was blazing crimson, while his left was an optical replacement, with another scope affixed inside, for double aim. From the weapon came a crimson tube, plunging into his back. Whatever that did for him, the Toa didn’t know. When he spoke, his voice sounded more high pitched and whining than Leangle’s. “My name is Sasword,” he hissed, lifting his arm, generating his energy. He was prepared to unleash it and kill Cesare, Garren and Magis in one move. “Now!” Larc screamed, running down the length of the path with the other two Toa in tow. Larc was throwing her arm forward, drawing lengths of water up from both sides of the moat around them, slamming them like twisting snakes at Leangle and Sasword, but she knew it was too late to stop his energy attack. But that was what Cesare was waiting for. He threw his hand forward at the same moment as Garren. Combining their powers, they both raised a wall, intermixed of Ice and Crystal. The energy attack slammed into the wall, bouncing off of it, smashing into the two warriors, tossing them aside. But they never made a sound or a scream or curse of pain as it happened. “Do you know why we’re here?” hissed Leangle, pushing himself up and leaping forward, smashing through the wall with a swing of his weapon. It shattered around his feet. He span it around and thrust it forward, smashing it into Magis, tossing him with a shout into the moat. “To fight? To try to claim our heads in the names of the Phantasmal Raiders?” demanded Larc, creating arrows of Water in her weapon, ready to release them. “No,” Leangle answered, “We’re here as the vanguard to an attack.” “An attack?” hissed Cesare, “What are you talking about?” “This if the final battle, you fools,” hissed Sasword, walking a bit closer, “This is our moment to shine! We lead the attack that will bring your heads to our great masters under the depths of the ocean!” As they looked past the two green warriors, they saw hundreds of Bashaa rushing around, and could now see fires starting. They heard explosions rocking the distance. They could see smoke rising up all around them as attacks were breaking out everywhere. “You may have caused some damage at the base, but we had enough manpower to lead this strike,” Leangle said, “This is the last stand for Cyril Nui! Soon this island will be ruled by we creatures of the sea! We can throw off the oppression of the depths, the darkness, the cold! We will have a proper civilization!” “If you’re of the sea, then why do you hate your home so much?” hissed Garren. “Have you lived beneath the waves, Toa of Crystal?” demanded Leangle, “Do you know what it’s like down there? Of course you don’t! If you lived down there, if you knew what it was like, then you would understand why we do this!” “We can make peace!” shouted Garren in an attempt to reason with his foes, “We can share this island! But you made the first moves and brought violence with you!” “That is our way,” growled a new voice. They looked beyond the two warriors, watching Jaki approach, his long arms dragging behind him in the streets. Near him was the now amphibious upgraded ‘Forte’. He lifted his sword towards them, ready for a duel with Cesare or Garren, the swordsmen of the team, now that Hoji had left. “I desire a proper duel,” he hissed towards them. And then the Toa realized how bad this was about to become.“I…I don’t understand. My friends…what are you doing here? Wait…what happened to me? What happened on this island? I…I don’t understand any of it. But…but we’re all with one another. That’s what matters, my friends. Next time: “Chapter 16: Refined Garren” Grace like the rain.”Review
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Chapter 14: Actions and Consequences Standing in the temple, amongst her peers and Turaga Gorma, Larc looked nervous. Her wounds weren’t tended to. She had told them not to do anything for her. For one, she didn’t know how to use her own healing abilities yet. She also didn’t feel like she deserved healing. Not with what she had done. Not with the truth about to be laid out before everyone. “There is much to tell, and not much time, as far as I’m concerned,” Larc said, “Because the sooner I tell it all, the easier it’ll be. The more I hesitate, the more I buy myself time, the harder it’ll be to say it all.” “You’re buying time right now,” Magis muttered, pointing out. “I’m sorry,” Larc said. “Again,” Magis commented. “Just start talking,” Cesare pressed, “Just tell us everything.” Stripped of her weaponry, Larc felt naked standing before them. Ever since becoming a Toa, she had had at least one weapon’s worth of protection. Now she had nothing. She didn’t like it, but she understood that it was for the best that she had nothing. She wasn’t going to use any of it to fight, to attack, but she would have just liked it for the sake of having it. “When I was a Matoran…three months ago, this story starts. When the Raiders first began to attack the island. Their first attack was Raia, their first second in command, remember? You were unable to defeat him, and had to fight him a second time. That first time…he had his Bashaa remnants and himself start to kill anyone in his way. They dragged the corpses into the ocean, for the sake of studying. I think one of the Raiders may have had interest in physiology. That, or just to make a point. “I was among the ranks of the Matoran who were there at the beginning. I was there when Raia was slaughtering innocents. I was about to be killed. I…I remember looking into his crimson eyes, begging for my life. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t want to die. I just wanted to go on with my life and live on for many years into the future. “So Raia, seeing that in my eyes, seeing the desire to live within me, made me an offer. One I couldn’t refuse. He told me that if I spied on the island, on you Toa Cyril, that I would be allowed to live. I was to bring information once a week to a specific area to meet with a member of the Phantasmal Raiders. It was always Psyga. He always took my information – never much – and took it back to his commanders, always letting me live. “On one occasion, he took me with him, showed me where the base was. There are large underwater air bubbles down there, which houses the main base of the Phantasmal Raiders. There are three of them. Bashaa are all around, along with other warriors for the Raiders. I was taken to them, and they told me that I was doing them a great kindness, betraying my own people as I was. “I despised that, but I couldn’t do anything about it. It was my chance that you guys found me and found the potential to be a Toa in me. I was elated at that fact, but also hated it, realizing that as a Toa, I would have to continue to betray my people, the people I was now sworn to protect. I still wanted to live, so I gave out information, including the exact location of the temple.” “That’s how Kiva knew!” Agri exclaimed. Larc nodded, continuing, “I continued to give out that information, just wanting to save my own life. I attempted to find a way out, but couldn’t. If I killed Psyga, that would solve most problems…until they sent someone else to take his place, or expose me as a traitor, and let you be my executioners, if you believed them. I didn’t want that to happen, so I gave out as little as possible.” “What was in that last message?” questioned Cesare. “Your Rouze combinations, and the weaknesses and strengths of Garren and Chalice,” she told them. “The tablet burned with Psyga, correct?” Cesare questioned. “Correct,” Larc said, “Well…that’s all there is to it. But…when I couldn’t kill the Ga-Matoran who saw us together, Psyga was going to do it, and he attacked me. I realized that I couldn’t bring myself to kill someone I was meant to protect! So…Psyga attempted to kill me instead. I managed to hold on, and even if I was going to die, I needed to kill him. I knew that. I knew I couldn’t die without at least destroying the tablet. “I tried to make amends by telling all of you this. I made peace with myself and my decision when trying to stop Psyga, and I realized that I was wrong. That I took the cowardly approach. I’m attempting to make amends, and I will do it.” “How?” demanded Magis, “We put our trust in you, and you broke it! You betrayed the trust of all of the Matoran of this island!” “I’m sorry.” “Is that going to bring back the lives of all of the Matoran who are dead, no doubt partially from your doing?” demanded Magis. “Magis,” Agri said, trying to calm his friend. “No! She deserves to hear this!” he shouted, “She put the lives of so many in danger! To save her own life, she handed the lives of many others right to the Raiders! Can’t all of you see that? She not only betrayed their trust, but betrayed our own! If Turaga Gorma hadn’t figured out the God Strike combination, then Kiva would have killed us all! And she led him straight here!” “Please! I didn’t know what was going to happen!” she shouted. “Is your ignorance any reason to forgive you?” Magis hissed, his beautiful voice thick with acid, “No! You knew something would happen. If not the lives of the Matoran, you would have had our lives taken! No matter what, someone was dying! You claim no responsibility? You don’t deserve the mantle of Toa!” he slammed a small table sitting beside him to the floor, sending her weapons scattering on the stone floor of the temple, “Bring Eri back! At least we could completely trust her!” For Magis, this was a fairly sore spot. He liked Eri, she liked him. They were a powerful combination, especially with the power of Storms at their combined disposal. Magis was no doubt hoping for someone just as good in Larc, someone he could form a combination with. But now, with these revelations, he would never team up with her. His combination wouldn’t work with her, because he would never trust her again. He would never willingly combine his powers with her. He valued beauty above all else. That included internal beauty. Her sick mental ways made it so that her mind was impure, filthy, to him. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her, her soul in disgrace and dirtied. Magis walked out. No one was going to stop him from leaving the temple and going on patrol. For all he knew, she was a distraction while an attack was going to go on. He wanted to be nowhere near Larc. He wanted to be out, searching the streets. “What about the rest of you?” she asked softly, “What are you going to do with me?” “We’re going to take everything you’ve said, and we’re going to hold a discussion on the matter at hand. We know Magis’s opinion already. He wants nothing to do with you. We’re going to hold his vote. That’s one vote to have you removed,” Cesare said coldly. “Removed? What does that mean?” she asked piteously. “Removed from this island. Perhaps sent away to a prison somewhere. We don’t know yet,” Cesare admitted. “How are you going to figure this out?” she asked, “Just say your opinions on me?” “Pretty much,” Cesare said, “Who wants to go first?” “I will,” Agri said, walking towards her, “Eri, your predecessor, was kind of like you in some ways,” he said, “She was a former Dark Hunter. She had abandoned them, because she was less of a Toa being one of them. She wanted, with the urging of her friend in the ranks, to become a proper Toa. “She made amends for everything. She made things right by joining us here, finding penance here. We accepted her for her sins, and allowed her to stay here. She never did anything questionable like this. She was always a pleasure, bringing with her her abilities from the Dark Hunters, hiding the truth. But she, as Magis would put it, was always beautiful in her own ways. They were a powerful combination. You replaced her, and he doesn’t choose you as a teammate, as a partner, as he chose her. “You betrayed us. Eri may have had her problems in her past, but she was fully dedicated. She didn’t tell us about being a Dark Hunter right away, but at least it didn’t come back to hurt us at some point. You should have realized your sins and told us! We could have helped, and we wouldn’t have completely held it against you. You would have had no choice, and your information as a Matoran was limited, minimal. We could have forgiven you! But you chose another way. A way of silence and cowardice. “My vote is for your removal.” Silence after Agri’s long words. He shook his head and stood back. “I’ll go,” Chalice said, “We’ve only known each other since we became partners in this team, and never as Matoran. You’ve been a good woman. I’ll give you that much. But that’s all I can really give you. I like you, Larc. You made some mistakes. I make mistakes by rushing headfirst into things. I do foolish things like that. You did a foolish thing as well. I have to forgive you, even though how severe this is.” “I’ll go,” Garren said, “I have to agree with the things said by Agri…and by said and not said by Magis. You should have said something. You shouldn’t have kept this hidden. I like you, just like Chalice. Like Chalice, I never knew you prior to this, and you seem like a very good person. “You’ve found redemption by fighting Psyga. You didn’t kill that Matoran. You were ready to die to protect her. That says something. I…I don’t want to forgive you, but I feel I have to. I feel there’s no other way around it. I forgive you, Larc.” That left only Cesare to speak. His word would decide it. Magis and Agri were for her removal, while Garren and Chalice wanted her to remain on the island, and believed that she had found redemption. Now was the moment of truth. Larc didn’t know what she wanted him to decide. If he decided she was to be removed, and she went to a prison or into exile, she would easily accept it. But if she were to remain, she would enjoy her time. She would be happy, but how could she fight alongside her companions when two of them didn’t accept her? It was a hard position to be in, but she would take whatever was given unto her. Cesare regarded her for a long few moments with cold, uncaring eyes, characteristic of him. He was a man of simple words, who was mostly silent, speaking in a smooth tone. His voice retained that quality as he decreed judgment upon Larc. “Larc. We need soldiers. We need people who are willing to fight against the Phantasmal Raiders. We would still have Hoji, Rei and Eri, but Destiny says they cannot be here to fight anymore. That is a problem. A serious problem. “As such, we must take you three. We will need you to fight. Eri and the others entrusted their powers to you. You must not let them down. You must fight alongside us. We cannot turn you away, no matter your sins, as great as they may be. And, you told us something very important in your story.” “What was that?” Larc questioned him, feeling as if he would undoubtedly decide that she was to remain. “You told us that you have been at the Phantasmal Raider base. That is very important,” Cesare told her, “We can attack them, if you would lead us to the location.” “Of course I will,” Larc said, “If you will have me as your guide, and a companion for one final mission.” “One final mission?” Cesare questioned, “You think we are to die attacking?” “Cesare?” Agri growled. “What?” “Are you seriously saying that we will keep her, no matter what, as long as we survive this battle that is approaching?” “Yes, I am saying that,” Cesare said, “If we live, you are to remain with us, for giving us this information. Larc, you are to remain our ally, for you hold the powers of our old comrades within you. That’s very important to us. You are to remain, as far as I am concerned.” Larc showed some signs of relief, then Cesare told Agri to retrieve Magis, no doubt to let the two of them have their moments of grief over his decision. Cesare was meanwhile coming to Turaga Gorma, who had been silent the entire time, asking for his help in treating Larc’s wounds. “If we are to attack their base, filled with Bashaa and their warriors, we need you healed,” he informed her. “I don’t want to be healed,” she said. “Your penance can begin later,” growled Cesare, “Right now; we need you in fighting condition!” “Ok,” she said, nodding in forfeit to his decree. About an hour later, the team was standing, looking down at the ocean before them. Larc was in the lead, working with Magis, who hated it the entire time. They were forming a water bubble filled with air for the journey, since not all of them were strong swimmers. They would need this for the sake of speed, and having air on their journey. As they walked off of the docks, into the bubble, Larc sealed it, silent the entire time, especially around Agri and Magis. She and Magis kept up their control over the internal workings of the bubble, and sent it along, towards where Larc said the base of the Raiders was located. The journey would take only a few minutes, but they would be a tense few minutes, dodging the attacks of Bashaa and any warriors who attempted to stop them. But soon they had broken through and smashed into the larger air bubble, stumbling out, onto dry land under the waters. They looked around, all of them with weapons drawn and at the ready, for at any moment a foe could strike. “Where are the Raiders?” hissed Agri in demand to Larc. “I…I don’t know. They should be here!” she said. “Or you’re still working for them!” growled Magis. “No! They…” “They probably saw the bubble coming and fled for their own safety,” Cesare said logically. “Very good,” growled a figure, walking out. It was Jaki, his claw weapons ready. ‘Forte’ was beside him, sword in hand, “Where is Hoji?” he growled. “Gone,” Cesare said, drawing Hoji’s old sword, “You’ll have to settle for me instead.” “What do we do? These guys are field leaders, right?” Garren questioned. “They are,” Cesare replied. “We fight them! That’s what!” Chalice said, fairly pleased, “I’ll show them what Storms can do!” “Don’t underestimate us, brat,” growled Jaki. “We’re Toa. We’ll win,” Garren said, no matter how illogical that statement was. “Don’t count on that,” growled Jaki, as their battle began full force.“In the aftermath of the battle, what can we do but plot what we will do the next time the enemy appears? But it turns out we don’t have any time, and we’re thrust into what could be the final battle. Next time: “Chapter 15: Full Fledged Assault by the Phantasmal Raiders” Here I go.”Review
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Chapter 13: Moral Larc In the early morning hours, despite it not being her patrol, Larc left the temple, heading out into the streets. She ran, just to move quickly, but moved with caution, so as not to be caught out of place by some early waking Matoran. She dodged through the streets, knowing them all instantly, even though unmarked, only using the towers around the island as landmarks. After a few minutes, she arrived at a fairly secluded area near the ocean, looking around. “I’m here,” She turned to see a figure walking out of the shadow of a building. This figure was slithering across the ground towards her. “Psyga,” she greeted simply, without a flash of fear or panic in her eyes. She knew this man, and she expected him. They were having an arranged meeting here. It wasn’t a run-in between enemies, as it may appear to any others. This was an arranged meeting, in order to trade information. Psyga was a merman-like being, with a long thin blue body. Blue and black legs were merged into one which ended in two fins; one on each side. A silver piece covered the area around where the body and legs joined. Silver armor was also around the shoulders, along with silver claws tipping off the blue arms. Silver fins were on the back, acting like razor-sharp weapons. Psyga’s head had two projecting fangs, and inset crimson eyes. “I hardly recognize you as a Toa,” Psyga admitted to Larc. “I hardly recognize myself,” Larc said, looking around cautiously, afraid that a Matoran may come out of one of the streets. “We’re fine,” Psyga said with his smooth voice, “I’ve been watching for many mornings. None come here.” “I hope you’re right,” Larc told him, “I can’t afford to have a Matoran see me talking with you.” “You can’t let them find out that you’re a traitor, is that it?” questioned Psyga, grinning, “It’s a miracle you were to become a Toa.” “Yes. Destiny seems to want the Phantasmal Raiders to gain an edge in this fight,” Larc remarked. “I hate Destiny,” scoffed Psyga, shaking his head with sickening dismay, “I hate the Three Virtues that you people hold so highly. I have my own three.” “Oh?” “Claws, Blades and my own Mind,” Psyga said, “That’s all I need. No Unity, Duty, Destiny.” “I imagine that your three have gotten you far in life, Psyga,” Larc said, holding out a tablet to him. “What’s this, exactly?” he questioned. “Information on Cesare’s Rouze Cards, as well as the strengths and weaknesses of the new members, as far as I’ve been able to evaluate thus far. With this information, none will be able to defeat you, or whoever the Raiders send out to fight.” “They defeated Kiva,” he growled. “I had nothing to do with that,” Larc said, “All he knew was that I was a spy, and that was it. He didn’t pull his punches with me. He hurt me just like he hurt the other Toa,” she told him, “I’m still in some pain, and that was a week ago.” “The temple was undamaged, though?” questioned Psyga. “Unfortunately,” Larc replied, in the mindset of a spy now, rather than a Toa working and living out of the temple. She had no friends in there, only marks. Marks to gather data on for the Phantasmal Raiders, who hired her when she was a Matoran. When the first attack had come in, she was offered a position, and she took it, rather than die. She had attempted to get close to the Toa, but had failed. Until now. “I’ll see to it that the next does damage,” Psyga said, “Mezool or Ohja, I’m considering. Their cannons will be enough to do some serious damage.” “If they can get close enough,” Larc reminded. “Yes, yes,” Psyga said, “They will.” He slithered towards the edge, about to plunge back into the Silver Sea, “Larc. I give you a warning. Don’t get too involved with these other Toa.” “I don’t plan on,” Larc told him, “I know my mission, and I won’t take it so far as to become their friends, or something like that. I will always have it in mind that they are simply marks that must be gotten close to, then eliminated.” Psyga nodded. She felt no remorse for doing this. She had sold her life already, nearly three months ago. No remorse, no feelings of regret. Had she expected them, she would have just killed herself by Bashaa, during that attack. But Raia had offered her a job, which she had taken. She didn’t want to die, and would have willingly died if she cared enough about this island. She didn’t care about this island, however. She would gladly spy and gather information for those who would be called the ‘enemy’. Before Psyga went, he turned back once more, “Larc, kill that Matoran,” he hissed. Larc span around, watching a Ga-Matoran in the street, as if she was just getting to work on the docks. She watched their meeting, shocked, trembling in absolute shock and surprise. “Well?” Psyga questioned, “Kill her! She’s seen us! She knows you’re a traitor!” In a flash, Larc had her arm up, arrows of Water resting on her bow, ready to fly, ready to cut down the helpless Ga-Matoran standing there. The sky was gray, with minimal light shining through, casting the usual gray light on everything. A soft breeze drifted through the streets, between Larc and this Matoran. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t cold. It was just there. “Do it!” Psyga hissed, floating towards Larc, “Or do you want me to?” he lifted his claws, looking at them with relish. “N-No! I can do this!” Larc snapped at Psyga. “Then do it!” Psyga shouted. The Matoran wasn’t fleeing. She wanted to, she desperately wanted to, but her legs wouldn’t work properly. Larc was about to release the attack, but then lowered her arm, letting the water fall to the ground at her feet. “No,” she muttered softly. “What was that?” Psyga hissed. “I said no!” Larc shouted, turning to him. The water at her feet, as minimal as it was, slammed up into Psyga, sending him reeling back. He growled and floated forward, slashing his claws down, but Larc parried with one of the blades of her bow. “Do this! Kill her and I’ll forget what you’ve done here today, Larc,” Psyga hissed, “Final chance!” “I don’t like ultimatums,” Larc told him. “You made one before! Join the Phantasmal Raiders or die! Remember?” “That was different,” she said. “Different? How so?” he demanded. “I like life. I like living. I may be a traitor, a spy, but I’m no murderer!” “Tell that to all of the Bashaa you’ve slain with your comrades,” hissed Psyga, “To your small part in the death of Kiva. You’ve killed!” “But I won’t kill an innocent Matoran. There’s a difference, Psyga,” she hissed, pushing harder on her weapon, but he wouldn’t move. She looked to the Matoran, “Run! Run if you want to live!” The Matoran stumbled and started to run. Psyga growled in annoyance, breaking through her grip and slashing her across the chest with his claws. Sparks flew from her chest; three dark streaks were left along her chest, running down at an angle from her left shoulder to right hip. She stumbled back, panting in pain. She watched Psyga shoot off after the Matoran, ready to silence her himself, then no doubt return to finish this job that he had just started. “I won’t allow you!” screamed Larc, racing after him, despite the burning pain of her wounds. As she pursued Psyga through the streets, she realized this Matoran was like her. She knew where she was going instantly, and was able to avoid Psyga for the most part. But soon, she made a wrong turn in panic, running into a lost Psyga. “Found you!” Psyga screamed, slashing his claws down. A wall of Water shot up between the two of them when Larc threw her hand out. It receded back into a spiral around Larc’s left arm. She ran forward, shouting, throwing a punch, spiraling her Water into it, slamming both her fist and the element into Psyga, sending him into a wall. He hissed and cursed, lunging at her, slashing her across her left shoulder with a bladed fin along his back. Larc cried out, falling to her knees. “Are you ok?” the Ga-Matoran was asking frantically, now at Larc’s side, looking at the wound. Larc looked up as Psyga span around, coming in for another strike. “Move!” Larc shouted to the Matoran, slashing her double blades out, meeting the fin with one of them. They slashed off of each other with a small rain of sparks as Psyga continued forward, missing the Matoran. Larc pulled the Matoran back with her good arm, “Come on. Run! Get to the other Toa and bring them here!” Before the Matoran could run off to do as she was told, Larc grabbed her again, “Why are you doing this? You saw everything!” Before she could say ‘You know I’m a traitor!’, the Matoran answered her. “You have to be spying against them, right? Gaining information for the Toa, just pretending? I know a Toa would never betray their island, even an island like this. Right? That has to be it!” Larc didn’t have the heart to say that the Matoran was wrong. That she was a spy. That she had betrayed her island like this, so she kept silent, nodding, almost heartbroken by doing so. The Ga-Matoran ran off, leaving Larc alone to defend against Psyga, who was skidding over the ground for her again. Larc started to fire off arrows of Water again, but they were doing nothing to impede Psyga’s progress. He was fast and strong, probably too much so on both accounts to be able to even slow him down. Rei released her bladed bow weapon, drawing her Blade Blaster into her right hand, focusing energy blasts on his head, but once Psyga was rushing someone, there was no point in trying to stop them head on. Someone would have to strike from the side, or release a much stronger attack from the front than Larc could do on her own. Psyga smashed into Larc, sending her flying into a wall. She cracked it on impact, sliding down to the ground, her vision flashing with spots of light. She shook her head, attempting to clear them away. Psyga was before her, claws at her throat, while her Blade Blaster was lying too far out of reach. She was dead, and she knew that Psyga would execute her. He had the information she had given him. She could see it affixed into a spot on his armor. She couldn’t do anything to stop him. She only hoped and prayed that the others would stop Psyga before he could give the information to his employers. She may not have been against the idea of joining the enemy, but now she was regretting it. She was regretting not being able to properly defend her island. It was one thing, as a Matoran, to give out small bits of information. It was another entirely to be giving out much more detailed information while also being a guardian of the island. She couldn’t bare this anymore. She almost wanted Psyga to kill her, just as a form of repentance. But she wanted so desperately to live! Just like when they had made their offer, she had wanted to live so badly that she betrayed her people. It was the same here again. She wanted to live. But she wouldn’t betray them any longer. A flying weapon slammed into Psyga’s side. He was knocked away from Larc, leaving a cut in her armor with one of his claws. She stumbled up to her feet, going for her Blade Blaster. She lifted it, opening fire. Garren ran past, picking up his weapon into his right hand. He extended a blade of Crystal, utilizing the weapons as a hilt. He looked to her, “I was on patrol,” he explained, “A Ga-Matoran sent me your way.” “Thanks,” she said. “She also told me that you were spying for us against the Phantasmal Raiders. I don’t know anything about that. I’ll leave that to Cesare to figure out,” Garren said. “I…I need to tell you all about that,” she said, pointing to Psyga, “That tablet in his armor. If we can’t kill him, we need to at least destroy it.” “What’s on it?” questioned Garren suspiciously. “That’s not important right now,” Larc said. “Fine,” Garren muttered, running for Psyga. As Psyga attempted to use his claws, Garren ducked and span around, slashing him with the side of his left weapon, the one without the blade. Psyga stumbled forward in his glide. He twisted his body, plunging the Crystal blade through Psyga’s back, mortally wounding him. “I won’t let this stand!” Psyga screamed out, gasping for air. He twisted around, beating Garren in the chest with his fin tail. Garren fell back, pulling his weapon free of his foe’s back. Psyga stumbled to the ground, struggling to get back up. He shot forward, aiming his charge at Larc, in one last attempt to kill her and avenge himself, and the Phantasmal Raiders. Before he could reach his mark, a blast of raging energies smashed into his front, causing him to scream as his arms and fins were being torn and slashed at by buffeting, raging winds and Lightning. He screamed out a few more times as the attacks continued to vary in ferocity, until he was no more. “Chalice!” exclaimed Garren. “The others sent me out. Thought it would be best for me to go in first, test myself. I of course didn’t object to that.” In moments, Cesare, Agri and Magis were following him, weapons at the ready, but they saw that they hardly needed them. The threat was taken care of. “Just what happened here?” questioned Cesare. “I don’t know, but I killed him!” Chalice was pleased with himself. “A Ga-Matoran sent me this way. Said something about Larc spying on the Phantasmal Raiders for us, and her cover was blown.” “Is that so?” questioned Cesare, eyeing her suspiciously, “I don’t recall giving any such orders.” “Well…then what happened?” questioned Garren. “You’re a smart boy, Garren. You tell me,” Cesare said. All eyes fell on Larc, who was trying to figure out what to say. She clearly had something to tell them, but was keeping it in. “What is it?” Cesare questioned her. “I…,” she shook her head. “Come to the temple,” Cesare said, “We’ll discuss matters there. I imagine there are many things we must discuss.” “There are,” Larc admitted, “Many things. Things I’m not proud of, and things that must be told, no matter how hard.”“Larc may have told us everything, but can we truly trust who she is? It is up to all of us to decide, and then we’ll see where we all stand, and if Larc has a place with us. Next time: “Chapter 14: Actions and Consequences” Here I go.”Review
Thunder Storm: Legacy Of Power Book 3
in Epics
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Chapter 3: Nostalgic Magis It was easy to overcome the shock of these new forms the Toa Cyril had come into possession of. Somehow, during the trip back, when Agri opened the back, the Inika Crystals shattered, covering the six Toa in their energies, transforming them into much more powerful warriors. Was it that black creature that had caused the damage that occurred? It didn’t matter. What did matter was that the Toa now had the power of Lightning along with their normal elements. They were now able to overcome anything Madan threw at them, and fight back properly. This was a blessing. And to Magis, an even greater blessing than the others, for it had restored his silver armor to his body. His glorious, shining silver armor! It had returned! In his vanity he had lost sight of the mission; to defend the island by stopping Madan, the newest man to try to take control. But he didn’t care. He cared about his appearance. He enjoyed walking down the streets, showing it off, along with the black armor he now wore; the shield that was a symbol of his time spent serving as a Toa. Only he, Cesare and Agri had them. Cesare always had one, but his and Agri’s were new; probably as representations of their longer service. “Magis?” Magis stopped and turned, looking back. He saw a Le-Matoran walking towards him, a man in green and silver armor. For a moment he wondered if this Matoran was mocking him, giving him a show of respect, or something else. Then after a long moment of silence, he remembered. “Saan!” Magis shouted, finally realizing who this was. It was his friend; a Matoran he met soon after coming to the island. He had at first been displeased that this Matoran kept trying to talk to him, to hang around him, but he grew to like this Matoran. He liked the silver and green that he wore – that he had always worn, much like Magis; another rarity – and he liked the man’s personality. He looked up to Magis in a way nobody else did. Magis had never liked him at first, but had grown to respect him. He was just a shopkeeper, but that was something different. Not many were; many were workers on this island. Saan made it a point to do anything he could to appease Magis, to make him happy, to make him notice the Matoran who adored him. Finally Magis did. It was only as a result of Saan nearly losing his life in a Dark Hunter’s attack. Dark Hunters almost never came to the island, and Eri had made it a point to stay away for reasons they hadn’t known at the time, but Magis had been there to save Saan, who was stuck in the crossfire. He wouldn’t have done it had his armor been in danger, but a wall of Air had stopped the attack, and the repelling had been quick with Topgaler. They had become friends, friends who usually met and talked in secret. Saan was always interested in hearing tales about Magis’s time as a Toa, about his past, about his hopes, dreams, who he was. He didn’t care about Magis’s vain personality; he liked Magis for who he was, and always said he saw something deeper in the Toa of Air, waiting to come free. After some time they had lost touch, however, and this was their first meeting. Saan raced over to Magis, smiling, stopping short and holding out a fist. Magis bumped his fist, nodding, “Old friend, how have you been?” Magis asked, speaking to his only true friend, or so he felt. “Oh, I’ve just been doing the same as always,” he replied, “Magis, have you found what’s deeper inside of yourself yet?” Saan always asked that right away. As always he had the same answer. “No. I am who I am; as you see me.” “You’ll figure it out one of these days,” Saan told him, smiling, “Come on, we have catching up to do.” “Yeah, we do.” Gluttony, clad in dark blue, light blue and gray armor. Light blue clawed feet, dark blue up to the knees, then light blue overlaid with spiked darker blue. It had a gray lower chest with dark blue above it, doubled up like a shell. Short dark blue arms looked rather lanky, but were quite powerful, with dark blue armor above the elbow. It had light blue gauntlets over each hand. From the lower chest were two tentacles, each of them moving on their own, looking for energy to drain. This Gluttony’s head was a maw; like a clam’s shell. Two clawed rows, the opening facing vertically. There was a deep crimson eye glowing out from the depths. In Gluttony’s right hand was a large claw-like blade with two pieces, usually swung. “Gluttony and Greed; the first two arrivals,” murmured Madan to himself, “Which of you shall be deployed first?” “I hunger,” Gluttony bellowed from deep within the maw. “Then go,” Madan said, “In fact…I’ll join you. I want to see the city,” he walked past Kaori and Gluttony, towards the entrance, with Gluttony moving behind him, trying to keep pace, hungry for energy. As Saan and Magis walked through the streets, the Matoran were starting to emerge again, talking amongst each other, enjoying their time out in the city. Things had changed; there was more life to the city. “Saan, this life is great and all, but what’s with it?” questioned Magis. “They all believe in Madan of the Eternal to guide them,” Saan said, shrugging, “I don’t know if I believe in him or not.” “Madan tried to kill us,” Magis told him, “Don’t trust in him.” “I only trust in you, Magis.” As they turned a corner, they could see a congregation of Matoran flocking towards something. Then Magis realized it was Madan himself, walking down the street, a large figure beside him, looking vicious, almost feral. “Madan!” screamed Magis. “Oh, Toa,” Madan said, lifting his staff forward, letting loose thunder. Magis lifted his staff, firing a blast of Lightning intermixed with Air. They negated each other, but Madan struck quickly again, to no affect. “You can’t do anything to me,” Magis said, “It’s over!” “Gluttony,” Madan said. Matoran parted, allowing Gluttony to race forward. Magis swung his weapon, but Gluttony parried with the claw-blade without a word. It punched Magis, sending him staggering, even though the blow had come to his shield. He lifted his Blade Blaster and opened fire, but nothing worked on Gluttony. “The Le-Matoran is a traitor to you all!” shouted Madan, directing at Saan, lifting his staff. This time it didn’t glow with thunder, but with something else. At the same moment it was released, Gluttony’s tentacle whipped forward, striking Saan at the same moment as the attack. Saan couldn’t cry out as he fell. “Saan!” screamed Magis, unleashing all of his anger and hate onto Gluttony, throwing a massive blast of Air and Lightning forward, sending Gluttony slamming into a building, through one wall and out the opposite, and still the body went. Now it was Magis, Madan and the downed and wounded Saan. Magis was ready, but the others arrived quickly. “Magis! Forget him!” screamed Agri, “Get that Matoran some help!” Larc was down, bending over him, but she pulled her hand away, “I can’t heal! My Lightning is getting in the way!” Magis put his weapon on his back and crouched down, gently picking his friend up and racing away, towards the temple. Gorma could help. He was sure of that. The others covered his exit, fleeing with him, rather than face Madan at the moment. After pacing around for nearly an hour, Magis walked back into the temple, “Tell me,” he told Gorma, “What do you know?” “I still don’t know much,” he replied. “He’s my friend!” Magis screamed, “Tell me you have good news!” Gorma looked down, “Two ways,” he said softly. “Two ways?” questioned Magis. “I could attempt to heal him, using my minimal powers once again, but from this combination of energy drain and…whatever Madan did – this poison in his body – it would very likely kill him. As soon as I put power into him, there’s a very, very high chance he would die.” “What’s the other option, then?” Magis demanded, “Tell me!” he screamed when Gorma didn’t immediately answer. “Kill the one who drained his energy,” Gorma said, “Or Madan. Kill one of them.” “I’ll kill them both!” shouted Magis, drawing his weapon up, looking at the tip as it opened up, “They dared to hurt my friend…I’ll have both their heads!” “Magis, calm down!” Cesare snapped at him, “Losing your cool like this isn’t good for you.” “Not good for me?” he questioned in bitter disgust at Cesare, at everyone else in the room for not understanding what he was going through, “I’ll make it not good for them!” With that Magis stormed out. “Magis!” Garren was shouting, about to run after him, but Cesare put a hand on his shoulder, and Agri put his weapon out to block Garren. “Let him go,” Agri said, “He knows what he has to do.” “Should I try?” Gorma asked, looking at Saan, looking at one of his own Matoran. “No,” Cesare said, “Not yet. But if Magis isn’t successful, try it, as long as no harm comes to you.” “None will,” Gorma answered, “We have another hour yet before we should worry.” “Then give an hour. If Magis doesn’t kill one of them, then try,” Cesare said, “We owe Magis that much to try.” “Where are you?” Magis screamed, unleashing a storm from his weapon. Winds slashed at buildings, causing the new construction to be undone quickly, causing Lightning to crash down at various spots, some of it intermixed with the winds, crashing into walls and curving around them, burning streaks into them. “Madan! Come and fight me you coward!” he shouted as loud as he could. Madan was now his obsession; his friend didn’t have much time. He had a hard call to make; fight for his life against these two, or let his friend likely die instantly. Or give him a slow death. This was a choice that was easy to make. Magis’s own life for Saan’s, if it came down to it. Madan was walking through the streets, no congregation this time, but his warrior Gluttony still at his side. Gluttony was ready to fight, but Madan showed no interest in the prospect of facing Magis. “I’m not your opponent,” Madan said, “Gluttony here is.” “I only need to kill one of you,” muttered Magis, “And after I kill Gluttony, I’ll kill you for good measure! I don’t have time to waste.” “Then come,” Madan said, flicking his staff forward, sending Gluttony charging forward, claw weapon raised, the Sin completely silent. Magis raced forward in a silent, tranquil fury. He leapt forward, propelling himself with a bit of Air. He wasn’t sure how he did it without Lightning, however. He slashed his staff across Gluttony’s face, seeing Lightning course off of it. Then he realized where his Lightning had gone; into his weapon. He landed and span around, kicking Gluttony in the chest, sending the Sin stumbling back. He screamed, slashing wildly and at completely random, fighting like a monster. He continued to smash the blades lining his shaft, the closed point, and the opened end into Gluttony, doing as much damage as he possibly could. Gluttony continued to lash out with powerful punches, with slashes, with tentacles, but Magis evaded or stopped every move. He span and ducked, unleashing a torrent of power, pouring his love, his hate and all of his sorrow into a blast of Air and Lightning, slamming it like the embodiment of a storm – of the wrath of the heavens – right into Gluttony. And it continued. “Magis, have you found what’s deeper inside of yourself yet?” Saan always asked that right away. As always he had the same answer. “No. I am who I am; as you see me.” “You’ll figure it out one of these days.” Magis felt his heart sink. For an hour he had hammered Gluttony, but nothing. Wounds appeared continually, but no real damage. No death. He knew he had to beg Gorma to save Saan if he could. He would do anything for his friend, and he had to hope and pray this would work. He wanted to know what was inside of himself. Saan seemed to know; Magis had to find out. As he walked into the temple, he looked at the other Toa. He didn’t care about their eyes wandering his body, seeing all of the damage he had taken, all of his wounds. He didn’t care about his tarnished beauty either; there was something more important right now. His friend. “Gorma,” his voice was cracked with all of the screaming he had done when fighting, when slashing at Gluttony. Some days just piled things on. This was one of those days. “The Great Spirit knows I tried; he knows I’m sorry,” Gorma told Magis. Magis ran to Saan, his body convulsing in silent agony. Magis span to Gorma, “What did you do?” he screamed, “You call this saving him? He was my friend! What did you do?” “I did all I could,” Gorma admitted, “I’m…I’m sorry, Magis.” Magis screamed, dropping his weapon. He put his hands behind his head, locking his fingers, looking down at the floor in silence for long moments, then he dropped his arms and threw his head back, screaming until his voice was no longer audible, as the overuse had taken it. He stumbled towards a wall, feeling sickened, feeling weak. He turned, watching his friend convulse, tears streaming down his Kanohi. He screamed, his voice returning, his grief giving it strength somehow. He grabbed a large wooden table that sat at the wall, filled with objects, and threw it to the floor, listening to it shatter, hearing the objects shatter. He screamed out, pounding the wall, slumping to his knees. All of the Toa were careful not to approach. They knew better than to do that. Magis had to take his time to get it out of himself. His friend was lying there – his convulsing had been slowing to a near stop. Magis picked himself up and stumbled towards the table on which Saan lay. “I need to know!” Magis screamed at the nearly dead Matoran. Perhaps he was dead and he just continued slight convulsions due to Gorma. He didn’t know. “You never told me what it was inside of myself that I needed to find! Tell me! Saan! I need you!” He stumbled away, looking up, “Great Spirit! Not him! Please, I beg of you, don’t take his soul! Not him! Or are you unjust? Take mine if you truly are a just Great Spirit!” Nothing. He fell to his knees. Cesare rested a hand on Magis’s shoulder, “We’re all sorry,” he said softly. “Sorry?” Magis hissed, almost in mockery, “Oh, don’t feel sorry for Magis, the man obsessed with only his vanity, his appearance. Don’t pay him any heed. Ha! That’s what you must really be thinking, Cesare,” he said the name with disgust. “Magis…,” Cesare muttered in shock. Magis pushed him away, walking towards the door. “Hey!” Cesare shouted after him, “If you let it get to you, you’ll never be a good Toa again! Death happens all the time! He may have been your friend, but he wouldn’t want this, would he? He wouldn’t want it getting to you!” “Yeah…I know,” Magis muttered as he walked out.“Honor is an important factor in the life of a Toa. We must be bringers of justice, and justice can be determined by honor, swayed by it. Even in a hard situation, we must have it. Next time: “Chapter 4: Just Cesare” Here I go.”Review