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The Company of Cowards


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I wasn’t going to post this one yet, but since the world is in quarantine I felt like I might as well share a story so folks have something to read. This story was inspired by … kind of a canon alternate universe, but not really. I was hit with inspiration by the vision Jaller experiences in Bionicle Legends: Dark Destiny, the world where he did not sacrifice himself for Takua. Makuta over, the Matoran enslaved, one thousand years later the Turaga are killed in an attempted assassination, and Jaller and Hahli are broken servants of the Makuta. Dark times. 

Now that vision … doesn’t exactly gel with the canon. I’m not sure Makuta would wait over a thousand years ruling the isle of Mata-Nui, or kill the Toa Nuva, not when he would know that Mata-Nui would die soon after MoL. Karzahni visions aren’t always accurate, so I’m not surprised it may have some continuity issues. 

So I used that vision as the basis for this story, but made some adjustments and changes as 
I plotted it. I have other ideas for this AU, Versions of the Toa Inika, someone using the Vahki with the willpower to use its full power, what really happened to the Toa Nuva, just rough ideas I haven’t really polished yet. Maybe they will appear as either an epic or a few short stories, not sure which, but leaning towards the latter.

Also this story features my OC Kanohi, because I like him, though Macku has a bigger role in the story. Anyway without further ado, here is the Company of Cowards.

There was no dawn through this storm, the black clouds reigned above as they hurled their weapons down like a swarm of hornets. The rain was a barrage of arrows, thunder was the battering ram, and lightning had all the force of a ballista. Nature itself was tearing at the makeshift raft, striving to destroy it in an unnatural fury.

The boat was made of everything they could find, parts were scavenged from the huts of Ga-Koro, others from their boats, others from trees of Le-Wahi, even the six Toa Canisters were used to build the craft. It was held-together more through prayer than the vines and ropes that lashed around it. Seaweed was plastered across its sides, until it looked more like a particularly large clump of algae than a ship.

Shivering in the storm were thirty seven Matoran, all hiding underneath tarps of seaweed. Their metal frames were blasted with saltwater, only the Ga-Matoran and Ko-Matoran braced the weather with any real resistance, all the others struggled each to stay conscious, their heartlights faint. Only their heartlights and eyes glowed, no other light was lit in this ship as it plunged through darkness,

Most of them were rowing, others adjusted the crude rudders to steer through the endless ocean that encompassed their world. And a few Matoran peered out through gaps in the seaweed canopy with spyglasses, daring to pry into the skies about.

“Rahkshi,” a faint voice managed, pointing to the port side of the boat. Macku held up her finger for silence, before squeezing under the canvas of kelp to stand besides him. The Ga-Matoran held out her spyglass in the direction that he pointed, even as she unholstered a throwing disk from her back.

Up through the lens of her telescope, Macku could see three reptilian shapes streaking through the sky. Each had sharp spines jetting out of their hunched-back, and their heads were all but serpentine. Each held a double-sided staff in their claws, which they swung and gestured with periodically. Their armor was a vibrant gold, almost mocking the memory of the Avohkii.

She tensed up as the thought of that Mask, she had only seen it once, seven years ago. During the last Kolhii Match, when it fell out of the Chronicler’s bag, illuminating Jaller with light. Turaga Nokama had translated it, revealing it was the Mask of Light, heralding the arrival of a seventh Toa. But a seventh Toa never appeared, and the island of Mata-Nui was enslaved by the Makuta.

And now she and all the other Matoran who could were fleeing their homes, abandoning their sisters and brothers to their horrible fate. Cowards. Just like Jaller.

The Ga-Matoran swallowed, holstering her disk. “Spread the word to keep quiet, Tamaru,” she urged the Le-Matoran, and he nodded. They might be cowards, but there was no way they could win a fight with three Rahkshi. They were just … Matoran.

Macku pressed her way back through the bowels of the ship, crouching low to not disturb the vessel’s disguise. Finally she squeezed over to Hewkii, Hafu, and Kanohi. The first two brandished a throwing disk in one hand and a Kolhii staff in the other, standing guard.

Kanohi meanwhile was huddled low to the ground, staring deeply into his lighter. He was covered in wooden masks carved in the shape of Ruru, using them for armor. Besides him were three objects, the first was Turaga Whenua’s Drill Staff, the second was a Volo Lutu Launcher; last of its kind. And then besides the Turaga’s Badge of Office was something wrapped tightly in canvas and cushioned atop a pillow. Most Matoran did not know what it was, but Macku knew all too well what lay underneath it.

“Three Rahkshi are on the port side,” Macku whispered, “I don’t think they have spotted us yet, but I’ve told Tamaru to pass the word to keep quiet.”

“Karzahni,” sighed Hewkii, “we are tens of miles away from Mata-Nui, how did they find us?”

“The Makuta’s reach is great,” answered Kanohi, “but he has not found us yet. All he knows is where we might be headed.”

“And this other land, there are Matoran there?”

“Many Matoran, though their bodies are weak, like ours used to be. I think between me and Nuparu we could upgraded their bodies too.”

“And are there Toa? Not false Toa like Vezok and Zaktan, real Toa. Heroes.”

“There … may be Toa, I see two strange beings, titanic in size, both wearing masks and brandishing powerful weapons. One is stout with armor of red and silver, the other is lean and is plated in gold and silver. I fear they are at odds however.”

“Are they strong enough to challenge the Makuta?” Macku interrupted.

“My visions are rarely easy to understand,” answered Kanohi, “I understand your frustration. To be blindsided by this tragedy, it is … humbling.”

“To say the least,” muttered Macku.

“Well, it’s not all hopeless, Macku,” Hewkii huffed and forced a grin, “we’ve smuggled some of our brothers and sisters to safety.”

“Yes, until the Makuta decides to track us down,” she shook her head, before her face reddened and she added, “still, you’re right, we’ll probably have the Makuta dead in days and soon enough we’ll be after the seventh Toa again. She contorted her face into a smile beneath her mask.

“Macku, you don’t need to hide your fears with me,” Hewkii said quietly, before cracking a more genuine grin, “and it looks like the effort is hurting you.”

“True enough,” she shook her head, her smile not quite as forced now.

“Excuse me,” a slow voice said. Macku turned to see Kapura, his crimson body covered in a thick cloak. The Ta-Matoran spoke like the slow approach of a glacier, even as his body trembled from the frigid cold, “the Rahkshi have diverted course … to the west.”

“Then have they missed us then?” Hafu blurted out with a grin as big as the ocean.

“…I think so,” answered Kanohi as he stared into the fire, “keep everyone quiet for now, but I think they are heading elsewhere.”

“You are sure?”

“Give me a moment to focus,” he said, gazing into the flames, “it’s not easy to steer my power enough to see what I want to know. Kapura, Macku; thank you for your messages.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Macku sighed, sitting down, “I should return to my watch, keep an eye on the Rahkshi.”

“What color were they?” Kanohi asked suddenly.

“Golden, like the Avohkii.”

“Before the Toa Nuva were overwhelmed, Turaga Vakama confided in me the types of Rahkshi. I believe the three of them would be Rahkshi of Weather Control, this storm is their work.”

“They can even twist nature against us.”

“Yes. Oh, sorry, I was thinking out loud. I … I can see nothing, but I will stick to my fire. For the meantime, watch the storm, and be careful leaving the ship. Macku, have your Ga-Matoran forage seaweed when they can, I’ll drill a hole in the ship to dive from.”

Macku nodded, “I will pass it alone.”

“And I will pass along your orders,” Kapura interrupted. Macku turned to look at him, but he had already vanished into the recesses of the ship.

Kanohi could see Vakama screaming, the Turaga being blasted by the power of fear. The manifestation of raw terror smothered him, as a voice snarled.

“The Mask. Where did your pupil hide the Mask?”

The waves of gaseous fear blotted out the stars, snuffing them out as Kanohi stumbled in the dark. And then he felt water splash into his face. He looked down to see a Ga-Matoran flailing in the rocky ocean below him, her leg engulfed by a Takea, the shark dragging her down—


The autistic Matoran lurched away from his lighter, spinning to his feet and thrusting Whenua’s Drill Staff behind him. His optics darted around as the drill whirled. No one was there. And then he spotted Kapura, standing besides him.

“You had a vision.”

“Yes,” Kanohi admitted, “a Ga-Matoran drowning, a Takea attacking her. I couldn’t tell who she was, it was hard to see.” The starlight outside was all but extinguished, the only light came from the blasts of lightning striking the ocean.”

“It may be happening.”

“Karzahni. Who?”

“Macku has not returned, Hewkii is considering diving after her.”

Kanohi nodded, handing over the Drill Staff. “If you have to, shatter it.”


Kanohi crouched and made his way through the ship, his Volo Lutu Launcher already back in his hands. It was meant for the jungles of Le-Wahi, but he had made it waterproof, at least as best he could.

There, peering over the hole was Hewkii, his hands squeezing his spear until it nearly snapped in half. The hole had been drill in only a few hours ago, the rim bent upward as water splashed inside the boat. Seaweed lay stacked in mounds in this chamber, sloppy and wet.

“Move,” said Kanohi, as he pulled out a bundle from his pack.

“Please, just … bring her back.”

Kanohi nodded and dived in, sinking into the water. With a whip of the cloth he uncovered the Lightstone, illuminating the darkness of the stormy sea. Clutching it in one hand he swam through the gloom, searching for any traces.

He was no Ga-Matoran, he couldn’t hold his breath for long. He would have to hurry.

Macku moved her hands towards the object, formerly lost to the waves. It … it looked like a curved blade, a similar shade of silver to the Toa Nuva’s weapons. But it was small, seemingly built for a Matoran’s use than a Toa or a Turaga.

As she touched it it radiated light, and a mild shock of electricity zapped her hand. She recoiled, her hand sore, what … what kind of Matoran tool has that kind of power?

This could be useful. She grabbed the seaweed from her pack, and wrapped some of it around her hand. She reached over, grasping the tool, it singed the plant fibers but they held. Strange, was it damaged by the erosion of the sea? How long had it been here?

As she held the blade in front of her, through its sparks she spotted something swimming through the gloom. She immediately kicked off the rocky patch and swam away, heading back towards the ship.

The water curved behind her, something huge was getting closer, shoving aside the ocean like blades of grass. Macku swallowed and turned around, just in time for her blade to illuminate a Takea’s jaws, the teeth glinting from the electricity.

She stared in horror just … not responding, as the Takea chomped down on her leg. Somehow she was numb to it, the teeth pierced her leg and she felt nothing. She just stared there.

Then suddenly the water rippled, and a Matoran slammed into the Takea. The shark released her, and she drifted through the water, bubbles popping out from under her mask, her eyes motionless.

Kanohi wasn’t sure if Macku was already dead, but he couldn’t dwell on that much, ramming into the shark had staggered him, he had almost released his breath. He swerved in the water and fired a sphere of gravity besides Macku, and with a flurry of bubbles he flew besides her.

Her heartlight was still lit, she was still alive. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, trying to help her store, and she almost strangled his fingers. He flinched, before feeling the ocean bend behind him.

With a twist of his wrist he fired his Volo Lutu Launcher again, and grappled out of the Takea’s jaws with Macku hanging behind him. He winced at the strain dragging her weight behind him, but he held on. He was … he was different, he could endure it.

Kanohi fired his Volo Lutu Launcher over and over, grappling across the ocean floor. Up ahead he could see the hole in the ship, they were almost there. He could feel his head burn from lack of air, not literally but metaphorically. He … he did not have much longer to make it through the water.

Then with a rip Macku slipped out of his hands, throwing him off course. He sailed past the hole, struggling to right himself. He … he needed to get her.

Finally he hooked something and went flying, before flying up back into the ship. He panted as fresh air filled his lungs, his hands trembling. He swallowed, Hewkii was shouting at him, but his words were utterly unintelligible.

“Going back,” Kanohi managed to say, before diving back underwater.

He grappled down to the seabed, before using the Lightstone to search for Macku. Through the gloom he spied a flickering light, she was standing up shaking, some tool in her hand flashing while the Takea swam around towards her. He grappled at her, hand outstretched.

Macku stared up at the shark, it’s jaws were nothing like a Rahkshi, but in its rage and aggression, she could see a resemblance. She blankly looked at it, her hand trembling.

She used to be in the Chronicler’s Company, she was a great Matoran, she broke the blockade to get help when Ga-Kori was overrun. She defended the Toa themselves when they descended into Kini-Nui. She was … she used to be strong.

But now … she felt like a Turahk was blasting her with raw fear, until her servos and joints couldn’t move. No matter how much she wanted to.

The Takea barreled down on her, before Kanohi slammed into it again. He knocked the shark off course, missing her and smacking into rock. Macku stared as the shark shook itself off before swimming away from her, now pursuing the Po-Matoran.

Macku’s optics followed after Kanohi, his Lightstone illuminating his movements. He grappled again and again across the jagged seabed, the shark gaining on him, its jaws opening up to engulf him.

The Ga-Matoran she … she couldn’t let him get eaten. He was a hero. He had protected Mata-Nui long before the Toa landed on their shores, rescued Matoran from dangerous beasts. She … she couldn’t let him die. The Matoran would need him.

Look at her. Weak, cowardly. She belonged in Karzahni, with the rest of the failures.

Then suddenly she felt a hand grasp hers, and a familiar Mask of Speed greeted her. Hewkii. She hung to his hand tight, and he squeezed back equally hard. His hand seemed to speak in her hand, not with words but with feeling. You are not alone.

She felt her heartlight tremble as she stumbled upright, getting a mild shock from her blade, as a Hewkii grasped her hand too. Then with a shove they swam at the Takea, Macku took the lead, she was a better swimmer after all.

With a thrust she slammed the electric blade into the shark, and sparks ignited the ocean like a thousand heartlights. The shark gurgled out bubbles, and then with a powerful swish of its tail it turned and swam away into the ocean.

Macku released the blade, which Hewkii caught. Trembling she grabbed Kanohi’s Volo Lutu Launchet of his hand, he barely fought her, woozy. She grabbed his hand and Hewkii grabbed his other, but not before pocketing his Lightstone.

With a squeeze of the trigger she hooked the hole of the ship, and the three of them grappled into the watercraft. With strain Hewkii threw first Macku, then Kanohi inside the ship, before climbing inside the crude vessel himself.

The three of them laid there panting, heaving as a few Matoran looked over them. Finally Hewkii stumbled upright with his spear for balance, and began to speak. Not that Macku could hear his words, she was numb to the world around her.

She lay there limp and exhausted, before a Hewkii crouched besides her. He spoke to her and she stared up at him, unable to process his language.

A Ga-Matoran bent over her, looking at her leg with a shaking head. “What’s wrong?” asked Macku, though she couldn’t hear her voice. What could be wrong with her leg, she couldn’t even feel it?

Macku slammed her makeshift crutches down, swinging her body around on her good leg. She lumbered through the gloom, with a Hewkii following her, his arms outstretched.

“I can handle this much,” she said shakily.

“I know. But you don’t have to, alone at least.”

She sighed, “I know. Thank you.”

“Hey, you Ga-Matoran value Unity most of the Three Virtues, if anything I learned it from you.”

“Po-Matoran treasure Unity highly too.” You just treasure Duty more than I ever could.

The two of them made their way to Kanohi, who was sitting down, Drill Staff at the ready. At his feet was the electro-blade, partly dissected.

“Any luck understanding this weapon yet?”

“Not really, the technology behind it is incredible, beyond anything on Mata-Nui, save the Bohrok and Boxers. Nuparu has made progress though. It must be from Voya-Nui. I … in my visions of the island I have seen Matoran with strange but powerful weapons, it must be one of theirs.”

“Then we are close?”

“Maybe. More importantly, the storm is dwindling, and I have had another vision. The Rahkshi have stopped searching these waters, for the moment at least?”

“Really? What … what did you see?” Macku briefly couldn’t see the glow of her heartlight, too stunned for it to flicker.

“From what I could understand they spotted a drifting patch of seaweed with Takea feasting on fish inside. I think they believed we perished and that was the wreckage of our craft. Again, we should lay low for a time, avoid fishing or repairing the hull, but I think we might have escaped.”

Hewkii practically tackled Macku in relief, and she embraced him too, the two Matoran squeezing each other in a whirl of clinking armor. Their bodies almost seemed to intertwine with each other. Then finally they pulled back with a nod, and Macku said, “I should resume searching the skies, this time keep watch over him, alright?”

“Of course,” nodded Hewkii, saluting her, and slamming his throwing disk into his forehead in the process. She laughed as he winced from the blow, and he blushed too.

“I will go to Tamaru,” Kapura added slowly, “inform him of your vision.” Macku startled at his voice, she hadn’t even known he was there.

“Of course—” Kanohi began to say, but Kapura was already gone. Macku shook her head at her fellow’s strange speed, before ducking under a beam and squeezing back through the dank ship. Her metal feet splashed against the floorboard drenched in saltwater and slime, puddles sloshing back and forth as the craft swayed from the dissipating storm.

By the fifth week of travel the Matoran had voted and had decided to name their ship the Voya-Suva; the Voyage Shrine. It seemed fitting, as they carried the prayers of the Matoran with them on this long journey, and Kanohi had had a prophecy claiming the island they sought to be named Voya-Nui.

“What do you think?” asked Hewkii as Macku surfaced. She carried a net in her hands, full of seaweed to be ripped up into fibers. Hewkii held a net too, hauling in fish for the Matoran to eat. Turaga Vakama had empowered Kanohi’s lighter with some of his elemental power, easily enough to cook the fish the Matoran caught on their journey.

“About what?” She asked. Her crutches lay besides Hewkii, her leg had ultimately needed to be amputated, and they did not have access to the tools to make a prosthetic. Still, she could still swim fairly well, and her lungs were still stronger than other Matoran

“The latest vision Kanohi shared with us. That the Makuta may not only have cast the Great Spirit into a deep sleep, but that the Great Spirit might be dying.”

She looked away, “I’m trying not to think about it. The last few days have been so tranquil, it’s best we do not dwell on a prophecy that is so … distant.”

“Yeah, I guess we need to keep our senses sharp,” Hewkii agreed, “The last thing we need is to be gloomy on a day like this.”

The two Matoran stole a glance at the sky. It was a bright blue, but worse it was clear. If a Rahkshi flew overhead, it would not be hard to spy their boat, and to discover its true nature.

But for now, no Rahkshi could be seen.

“Besides, Kanohi said so himself that his prophecies are not easy to understand, it might have been a metaphor for the Matoran being … beaten.”

“Yeah, might be just them losing faith in the Great Spirit.”

They both fell silent, Macku awkwardly treading water. Neither Matoran brought up the simple truth. Even if the Great Spirit was genuinely dying, or worse, if he already had, there was nothing they could do. The Makuta’s reach was as endless as the ocean, Mata-Nui belonged to him, his Rahkshi, and the false Toa who enforced order in the six villages.

“…Do you think Hahli is alright?”

“You want the truth?”

“No, I already know it.”

Then came a thunderous sound, and both of Matoran flinched, drawing their throwing disks at the rumbling. Their heartlights flashed violently, as they stood there watching.

Finally they heard a Matoran shout in the distance, “Razor Whale scraping against the ship,” and the pair of them slowly stowed away their disks. But their heartlights continued to pulse.


“She continues to resist to her dying breath, leading a guerrilla battle against the Makuta, using Volo Lutu Launchers to slip past the Rahkshi and throwing disks to shatter the false Toa’s masks.”

“Lie better,” muttered Macku, “the false Toa don’t wear masks.”

“I know. But there is not much any Matoran can do against those strange beings. Even if the Toa Nuva had still been alive when the Makuta first unleashed those Piraka, there is not much even the Toa could have done against them.”

“Heh, here we are, we want to ignore those problems, and we are obsessing over them. Guess my cowardice is all consuming.”

“You are not a coward.”

“What do you call a Ga-Matoran who abandoned her sister to be ruled by a monster?”

“So did all of us. We are leaving to get help.”

“But are any of us coming back to Mata-Nui afterwards? No, we all will hide in our new refuge like good little Matoran, hoping these two Titans can fight our battles.”


“Some Chronicler’s Company we are. Our Chronicler dies and the six of us flee our island, not only forsaking our brothers and sisters but his own memory.”

“I know … your guilt,” Kapura interrupted, coming up from behind them.

Macku nodded towards him, hauling her catch onto the deck. As it slapped onto the deck Kapura started to speak again, but by then Macku had already dived back underwater. She was tethered to the Voya-Suva by a cord woven of seaweed fibers, to prevent her from drifting away.

The Ga-Matoran had been in the Chronicler’s Company alongside Tamaru, Hafu, Kapura, Kopeke, and Taipu. They had worked with the Chronicler to help the Toa, famously defending the entrance to Kini-Nui so the Toa would not be ambushed. Oh if only the Toa had actually defeated the Makuta then.

Shortly after Macku resurfaced, with another net of seaweed behind her. As she climbed up Kapura began to speak, but Hewkii spoke first.

“Kapura says that we’ve spotted land in the distance, looks mountainous and icy, like Ko-Wahi back home. Might be the northern tip of Voya-Nui.”

Macku let out a tightly held breath, before sitting onto the deck facing the ocean, her foot dipping in the saltwater. She reached behind her and pulled out her spyglass, scanning the endless waves.

“I think I see it,” she smiled, then frowned, “it looks … thin. Is it really so small?”

“No … just the tip … of the island. Its size rivals Mata-Nui.”

“Incredible,” she shook her head, “ a whole other island of Matoran. Matoran who have never had the wisdom of a Turaga, or the protection of a Toa. And they live together, not separated into different villages based off their element.”

“So Kanohi says.”

She sighed, “even for the thousand years before the Toa, we still had the Turaga. To not even have that, not to mention how none of them know of the Titans on their island…”

“They have been alone in a way we never knew.”

“We know it now.”

“They will have experience … to share.”

“Yes. And if we can … work with the Titans … we might be able to overcome … the Makuta.”

“And someone as large and mighty as the Titans might even be able to use Kanohi’s secret.”

“Don’t speak it,” muttered Hewkii, and Macku nodded. The fewer knew what Kanohi had smuggled with them, the better it would be.

As far as Makuta knew, Turaga Vakama had told Kapura to hide it. And hopefully the Makuta still thought it was on Mata-Nui. It was the only thing that could stay the Makuta’s hand from destroy the Voya-Suva. After all, the Makuta was a god onto himself, but he was no match for the raw force of time.

But it was still unwise to mention it. Not even Toa Nuva Tahu could control its full power, maybe only the Great Spirit or the Makuta could. So Kanohi guarded it, ready to shatter the artifact with the full force of Turaga Whenua’s Drill Staff. And the resulting chaos … the universe would never recover.

Macku and the other Ga-Matoran struggled underwater, pushing the Voya-Suva across the shallows. The others had insisted she just rest, but she could not. She could do this at least, stand united with her fellow refugees in one task. And with all of them working together, the weight was less.

In front of the Voya-Suva, the group’s Onu-Matoran and Po-Matoran strained, using their enhanced strength to drag the boat on the mountainous terrain of the shoreline.

They meant to drag the boat onto the shore of Voya-Nui, to repurpose it as a crude shelter. It would take time to fully explore the massive island, alone find the Matoran. And then finding the Titans would be another problem altogether. So in the meantime, the Matoran refugees would need a place to hide and escape the predators on this strange island.

They have traveled down the coast for a number of days, trying to find where the shore was shallow enough to land on. Finally they had reached such a spot, and had resolved to make it a base of sorts. It helped that landscape was a lot less frigid here. Still the Ko-Matoran remained the Matoran best suited for this landscape, able to endure the cold of the peaks. Kopeke had led a number of them into the icy mountains, to at least do some scouting.

Kapura was scouting south, hoping to find a village in the more temperate regions. Hopefully down there, where it would be comfortable for more types of Matoran, there would be the village of the people of Voya-Nui. It would take time, but the Ta-Matoran’s strange speed made him great at trekking vast distances quickly, and he needed to stretch after his time cooped up in the Voya-Suva.

Macku looked over to see Kanohi, grappling across the cliffs. The Po-Matoran was using his launcher to sling from ledge to ledge, pausing only to take in the view of the shore. He was watching for danger, as well as scouting the surrounding area.

On the shore Ta-Matoran were standing guard, brandishing their bamboo disks and any other weapons they had carried. They were to ward off any Rahi, they could at least handle that.

The thirty seven refugees were tired, hungry, coated in grease and saltwater, but they were alive and free, and that was better than most of the Matoran back home. Hahli … Macku prayed to the Great Spirit as she strained to push the boat, please let Hahli’s spirit endure. Don’t let her break.

And then as Macku lifted her head to get air, she heard shouts.

Her heartlight began to pulse frantically, and her hands trembled. She wanted … wanted to run, but where to? Ga-Matoran or not, on a good day she couldn’t swim long enough to get far away without her leg, and she was too exhausted to swim at all.

But those shouts … she froze there, half-submerged. Her hand reached behind her to her throwing disk, pulling free the weapon of bamboo. She … she didn’t know why she clung to it, perhaps it was some old instinct from before destiny went astray. An instinct that Hewkii resurfaced with the Takea.

There were more shouts, and the other Ga-Matoran swam away, heading inland. She just … were those cries from Hewkii, Tamaru, Taipu, Kapura, Kopeke, Hafu - even Hahli? They all blended together in her mind, roaring into her face.

“Hey—” Macku swung her throwing disk with all her strength, thumping against someone.

“Ouch,” muttered a small blue being with a mask that Macku had never seen before, one who held two long blades in her hands, each silver like the weapons of a a Toa Nuba, or the blade that Macku had found on the journey. .

“You … you are a Ga-Matoran?” Macku managed as she flopped over, laying limp against the boat. Her chest heaved up and down, as the short stranger eyed Macku’s lower torso.

“Yes. I’m a warrior, name’s Dalu. Piruk spotted you sailing in, I came to investigate. Glad to see some of my sisters from across the waves have spirit left in them.”

“Not much,” sighed Macku.

“Eh, more than most of your crew. Most of them look like they’ll just lying on the shore, waiting for the tide to drown them. While it looks like life has chewed you up, and you aren’t dead. Come on, big sister, let’s get you out of the water. Looks like you need to rest for a century.” The smaller Matoran shoved Macku upright, though she couldn’t stand, just prop against the boat.

“But, the Voya-Suva—”

“We’ll help you haul it ashore, once you all have had a chance to breathe. And we really need to discuss what happened to you.”

“But … the Makuta?” Macku managed as Dalu handed her the crutches. Macku blankly stared at them, then back at the warrior.

“Makuta?” Dalu shook her head, “You northerners keep saying that name with such fear, like se’ll sense you by his name alone. Although, I swear I have heard that name before. Maybe it was something Velika said, he’s always muttering stuff that makes no sense.”

Shakily Macku stood up on her crutches, as Dalu slotted her bamboo disk back into Macku’s pack. The two of them began to lumber forward, inching their way to shore.

As Macku drew closer to the shore she could see Hewkii wave to her, starting to run to her. She shook her head and he stayed back. Mustering her strength she let out a sigh, before wading towards him and the shore. Dalu glanced back and forth between  the two of them, then grunted before sprinting off through the water, running to stand guard among some Ta-Matoran.

As Macku stumbled ashore Hewkii tried to catch her, before they both collapsed. “Ugh, my body aches all over,” Hewkii shook his head.

“I can’t even see my heartlight,” agreed Macku with a bitter laugh, as they lay there on the rough jagged shore.

“”Neither can I, it’s so faint.”

Dalu grunted and walked back over to them and held out her blades. The air around them seemed to ripple, and then Macku felt … different. Like her metal skin was crawling, and her arms were denser, but somehow lighter. As they stood back up, Dalu stumbled, before walking back to shore.

“How … how did you do that?” Macku called after.

“My Chargers. Let me temporarily enhance an attribute of a person, Rahi, or object. Can make a Burnak too heavy to move, or make a killer aware of all reality until they go mad. Used them to make your stamina increase. It’s draining to use them, I need to rest afterwards.”

“How … how did you get that artifact?” Was it like the blade she had found?

“Always had it, long as I can recall at least. Come on, we all need to rest now. Once you’ve told me your stories, I’ll head back, see if we can help haul your boat to shore. Then we’ll worry about hunting down this Makuta.”

Macku nodded shakily at the strangely powerful Matoran. If a mere Ga-Matoran could have the power she claimed to have, even with such a weak body, and if Nuparu and Kanohi could upgrade the bodies of these Matoran too, and then build more weapons like Dalu’s Chargers and the electric blade…

Macku smiled faintly despite herself. She hoisted herself back up on her crutches, and she and Hewkii followed after Dalu. The two Matoran did not even need to look at each other, both certain that the other felt a tiny glimmer of hope in their heartlights, one that had endured despite everything.


Edited by Harvali
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"Danger is the anvil on which trust is forged"-Jaller(Jala) :smilejala: 
"We're on our own here-like we've always been-and we'll stand or fall on our own"-Tanma
"He may seem slow and strange to you, but his simple words often carry a hidden wisdom"-Turaga Vakama on Kapura

Kanohi: Stories of a Matoran Vigilante The Impact of a Rebirth: a Kanohi Fanfic The Willing Exiles: a Kanohi Fanfic SKA PC Profiles: Kanohi, Collector, Mahrika Kardaka BZPRPG Profiles Avatar by @Harvali 

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