Embers - A Bionicle Saga

[Nato G]

Chapter 7 – Alone, Together

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

So much of what we Matoran know about other species comes from the stories of our Toa and Turaga. If those stories alone were to be believed, then every other race in the universe is made up of senseless savages or murderous monsters.

But the enemies our Toa crossed blades in the past with aren’t the be-all and end-all of their respective species. They never were. And now we can see that for ourselves. These new races have brought with them new languages, new music, new art, new innovation, and endless possibilities.

They’ve also brought new problems. As much as I wish to only acknowledge the positives brought by our new status quo, there’s no denying that the mixing of cultures and histories hasn’t bridged all divides.

* * *

Sidra

Sidra had no idea where she was going. She hadn’t had a destination in mind. She hadn’t even had a direction in mind. She’d just picked the first empty street she’d found and started walking.

Her head was a mess.

What had she been thinking? Her outburst had accomplished nothing except humiliating herself and her allies. Worse than that, she’d overstepped, offered a promise she had no power to fulfil. She didn’t have the authority to offer a ceasefire or amnesty. And the Council weren’t going to even consider such a thing after the attack this morning. As for Larone… she almost regretted saving him now. This whole mess was his fault. Him and Talok. Two mad old men so wrapped up in ancient grudges that they were unwilling to change, determined to drag everyone down with them.

Distracted though she was, Sidra wasn’t completely oblivious to her surroundings. Thanks to her time with the Dark Hunters she was no stranger to following others, or being followed herself, and she knew instinctively that someone was tailing her now. Hearing the footsteps of other beings on a street like this wasn’t unusual. Hearing the same footsteps, at the same distance, for an extended period of time, however, was.

Whoever they were, they were keeping just out of sight, always one corner behind. Sidra could hear the scraping of bare claws on the cobblestones, but that didn’t narrow down the possibilities much given how many different races now freely roamed the streets.

She slipped into the next alleyway, drawing her rhotuka launcher and charging a shot. She kept walking, waited until she heard the footsteps nearing the mouth of the alley she’d just entered, then whirled about and loosed the projectile.

Only the distance between them and the fact that rhotuka could be mentally redirected by the shooter after being fired saved Neryx from decapitation. She let out a startled squeak and ducked, even as the razor-sharp spinner suddenly veered upwards away from her, soaring into the sky until it eventually dissipated.

“What are you doing here?” Sidra snapped, dropping her launcher and running over to pull Neryx upright. “I could’ve killed you!”

“Thanks for not doing that…” Neryx mumbled, rubbing her arm.

There was nothing Sidra wanted more in that moment than to embrace Neryx, to hold her close and gaze into her emerald eyes and beg for her forgiveness for more things than she could count. But anger won over affection, and she instead shoved Neryx away.

“You’re on the wrong side of the line,” Sidra hissed. “If the others see you-”

“You just offered to let us cross,” Neryx pointed out.

“I shouldn’t have. I didn’t- wait, does that mean you-”

“No,” the reply was sheepish, almost apologetic. “But I need to talk to you.”

“You need to get out of here. I don’t know if I can protect you.”

“When have I ever needed protecting?” Neryx snapped. This time she was the one to shove Sidra. “You’re the one in danger right now, not me.”

“How am I in danger? You planning to stab me again?”

“No, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, just hear me out. I’m trying to save you.”

“No! You had your chance to save me.” Unbidden tears brimmed in Sidra’s eyes as the memories of the last time they’d been together rose to the forefront of her mind. “The last thing I remember was you saying you were sorry.”

“I am,” Neryx insisted. “I was heartbroken. You made me- I felt like- I was just so angry. I’m sorry for stabbing you.”

“I’m not mad because you stabbed me,” Sidra closed her eyes, tears tracking down her cheek. “I thought I was going to die. And I was almost at peace with it because I thought you regretted it, that you still cared about me. When I woke up I thought you’d saved me. But it was the Toa who stabilised me, carried me out of there, kept me alive until I could be healed. You ran.”  

When she opened her eyes, Neryx wouldn’t meet their gaze.

“I broke our trust,” Sidra said. “I did that. I deserved everything you did to me. But how can you ever expect me to trust you again after you ran me through and left me to die?”

“I-” Neryx sighed, and slumped against the wall. “There’s nothing I can say to make it right. I was scared. Of what I’d done. Of what would be done to me. I failed to help you then, but I’m trying to help you now.”

Against her every instinct, Sidra let herself take the bait.

“Help me with what?”

“Greillash and Tuxar are planning something. He hasn’t told us what, or where, but it’s soon. Greillash trusts me… because of what I did to you. If you surrender, come back with me to Ga-Metru, I can keep you safe from whatever he’s planning.”

“Greillash wants me dead,” Sidra scoffed. “If I go back there he’ll execute me, as publicly as possible, and probably you for trying to speak on my behalf. You know that.”

“I can convince him,” Neryx’s eyes lit up for a moment. “Just like I could convince you.”

Sidra turned her head to stare at the wall, keeping Neryx only in her periphery. “Don’t try it. If you truly want to help me, you need to tell me what Greillash is planning. If you give the Council something actionable, it might be enough to guarantee your safety.”

Sidra heard a sound somewhere up above her, a soft scraping.

If Neryx noticed the noise, she didn’t react to it.

“I can’t- I don’t know-” Neryx stammered. “I just want you to- I don’t even know.”

“But I’d love to find out.” The scraping sound came again from up above, much louder this time, as Lariska clambered down from the rooftop above and dropped into the alley between the two Odinans. “You didn’t tell me you’d gotten back together, Skirmisher.”

“How long were you listening?” Sidra sighed.

“Long enough,” Lariska reached for a dagger and started to step towards Neryx.

Sidra had spent enough time around Lariska to know how fast she could be. If she’d truly intended Neryx harm she would’ve been dead before either Odinan had even realised Lariska was there. This leisurely approach was all for show. But Sidra grabbed Lariska’s arm nonetheless, as Neryx scampered away back down the alley, vanishing from sight around the corner.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Relax,” Lariska pulled away from her. “She should be far more afraid of the people she’s going back to.”

“She is. And I’m afraid for her.”

“As am I.”

“Since when did you care about her?”

“Since you did. Truth be told, I’ve been wanting to gut the girl for what she did to you. But I see now what you did to her was worse.”

“And what I’ll do to you will be worse still if you ever harm her.”

“I believe it,” Lariska stepped back, smiling as if Sidra had just told the most amusing joke. “I’m sorry for interrupting your little moment. I’ve been wanting to get you alone for a while now as well, and this is the first chance I’ve had. We haven’t spoken freely since before the Makuta was defeated.”

“Since I ran out on the League, you mean?” Sidra said. “Every time I hear a noise in the night I think it’s you coming to even the score.”

To Sidra’s surprise, Lariska looked genuinely upset by the remark, her smile slipping away in an instant. “I would never- I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I do.”

“Don’t,” Lariska shook her head, “Take it from someone who’s spent a lifetime committing unspeakable crimes. Regret isn’t worth it. Fix what you can, forget what you can’t.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not. But once you’ve figured it out, I hope we’ll have a chance to speak properly. But first, I think you need to speak with someone else.”

She pointed at Sidra’s shoulder. Sidra glanced down, noticing for the first time a scrap of tattered cloth caught on the edge of the carapace covering that part of her arm. Right where Neryx had shoved her earlier, she realised. She pulled it free and unfolded it, finding three words scrawled on it in Neryx’s messy hand: My room. Midnight.

When she looked back up, Lariska was gone.

* * *

Ilton

Ilton had spent every day since accepting a position on the Council looking forward to nightfall. The end of the workday, a chance to relax and recuperate before the next day of drudgery.

But all he felt now was stress, and dread. Between the attack in Ta-Metru and his performance at the border, Greillash was becoming more brazen. Larone was going to be angrier than ever after the way he’d been humiliated today. Sidra still hadn’t reported back, and though he knew she was more than capable of defending herself, she’d also made a much bigger target of herself today.

The city was darker tonight. Despite the day’s difficulties, the Council had been quick to implement the measures to reduce power consumption, and it seemed to be working. In the few places where lights were still on, they shone solidly, not flickering or faltering.  

He heard footsteps behind him and turned, hoping to see Sidra but knowing he wouldn’t. Sidra’s steps were light, accompanied by the clacking of her claws. These footfalls were heavy and firm.

The being they belonged to was not the one he’d expected to see.

It was the Rahkshi Perception, its dark armour seeming to drink in the darkness, rendering it near-invisible aside from the sparse splotches of purple.

“Perception. What brings you here at this hour? I thought you’d be out enjoying the streets.”

“The streets are not safe,” Perception answered. “The Council must convene again tomorrow. We have a matter requiring urgent attention.”

* * *

Sidra

Sidra knew where Neryx’s room was.

She’d visited Ga-Metru many times over the past month, in spirit form. At first, it had strictly been to try to spy on Tuxar and Greillash. But her emotions had won out in the end, and she’d started looking for Neryx, eventually finding the cramped little hut where she’d made her home. Like many of her neighbouring Odinans, Neryx had moved into one of the small two-storey Matoran residences, and gutted most of the second floor so there’d be room to stand properly.

She wasn’t standing now, just sitting silently on the edge of her makeshift bed.

Truthfully, Sidra hadn’t expected to find Neryx still awake. Neryx normally went to sleep early, and slept in late. Staying up until midnight was a big deal for her. The sight alone was enough to dispel Sidra’s lingering instinct to back out and return to her body before… whatever was about to happen. Whatever Neryx wanted to say, she really wanted to say it.

“I don’t know if you’re here,” Neryx said quietly, as the digital display on her bedside ticked over to midnight. “I hope you’re here. I’m going to feel pretty stupid if I find out I’m talking to myself.”

Sidra hovered across from her, looking into eyes she knew couldn’t look back at her.  

“There’s probably nothing I’ll ever be able to say or do to make things right, but I’m sorry for hurting you. Not just the stabbing,” her eyes flicked over towards her blades, sitting on a too-low table nearby. “All of it.”

She lowered her voice to near a whisper. “You were right. About Talok. About Greillash. About where they’ve been leading us. I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you. I’m sorry for a lot of things. And I hope, someday, you can forgive me. Like I forgive you.”

Sidra saw Neryx’s fingers tighten on the edges of the bed, her claws tearing at the threadbare blankets.

“I hate being alone,” she sobbed softly. “I miss you. Us. I wish you were here with me, but… I understand why you’re not. I’m glad you’re not.”

She looked up, and whether by instinct or coincidence or Destiny, her eyes were perfectly aligned with Sidra’s own. “Even if you hate me, even if you never trust me again, I still love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was the first time Sidra had spoken the words.

But of course, Neryx couldn’t hear them.

[Nato G]

Chapter 8 – Demands

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

With so many new species having made their way into our city, it may come as a surprise to know that it was the ones who were already here that we Matoran had the most difficulty adapting to.

In all of our hopes and dreams of seeing the Makuta defeated, we expected the Rahkshi to be destroyed with him. But they remain, roaming below our feet during the day, trapping us behind closed doors at night, controlling us through their mere presence.

And through their presence on the Council.

* * *

Tustesh

Tustesh arrived early in the Coliseum that morning.

His presence had little to do with the new Council meeting that he’d been informed of at short-notice when he’d first awoken that morning. He’d come to see the Chronicler, the only Matoran who resided in the tower full-time.

“Yes?” The Matoran opened his door at Tustesh’s knock, though his expression became one of regret when he realised who was on the other side. “Tustesh? To what do I owe-”

“Want learn.” Tustesh pushed his way past the tiny creature. “Matoran history.”

The Chronicler’s chambers were undoubtedly those of a scholar. Shelves lined the wall, piled with parchments, tablets, and mechanical recorders. The small bed crammed into one corner seemed almost an afterthought. A desk with two chairs sat in the centre of the room, also laden with writing materials. Tustesh pushed aside one of the chairs and sat down cross-legged in front of the desk.

“Oh. Ah, of course. Always happy to tell our stories.” The Matoran closed his door and sat down in the remaining chair. Even sitting on the floor, Tustesh was still the taller of the two. “What history are you interested in?”

“Time before time,” Tustesh answered. “Old stories. Stories of… afterlife.”

“Afterlife,” Crisda replied thoughtfully. “That’s something the Turaga have long debated. Some say we simply cease to be. Some think we become one with the Great Spirit, or ascend to wherever it is that the Great Beings dwell. Others say-”  

“Not want opinions,” Tustesh growled. “Need facts.”

“Well, there are no facts,” Crisda blinked blankly at him. “No one knows what happens.”

“Records in Great Temple. About dead Matoran being fixed. Taken to “sea of stars” and returned whole. Stars are important to Ko-Matoran, yes?”

“Prophecy was never my forte, I’m afraid. But you’re correct, many Ko-Matoran cultures across the universe look to the stars for answers. Our Toa have spirit stars. And even when all of the other stars in the sky have changed over the centuries, the Red Star has always remained constant. The seers who used to work in the Knowledge Towers would know more, assuming you can find any of them.”

“Thank you,” Tustesh rose to his full height once more. “This… useful.”

“Oh. Good to hear,” the Chronicler too jumped to his feet. “I just- may I ask what piqued your interest in such a strange topic?”

“You may ask,” Tustesh replied absently, shoving back through the door and leaving the Chronicler to his confusion.  

* * *

Ilton

Though plenty of complaints had come in from various Council members, in the end all of the representatives had managed to clear their schedules and make it to the meeting room on time.

“Thank you all for coming at such short notice,” Nomar said, marking the beginning of the meeting, “We have three matters to discuss this morning, brought forward by the Vortixx, Dark Hunter, and Rahkshi representatives. We’ll start with the Vortixx.”

“While our investigations are still continuing into the circumstances of yesterday’s attack, we’re prepared to present our preliminary findings.” Lhuhamaka said, “Based on eyewitness testimonies, and footage recovered from the Vahki at the scene, there’s no doubt that the Odinans were responsible. Greillash, Phidras, and Aadra have all been identified. They must be held to account.”

“I agree,” Nadrua said. “More than a dozen Matoran were killed in the explosion.”

“Labour can be replaced,” Lhuhamaka replied absently. “It’s the loss of the equipment and infrastructure that troubles me.”

Ilton winced at the Vortixx’s words, but held his tongue. He’d realised early on that Lhuhamaka had an extremely low opinion of the Matoran species, and revelled in any opportunity to provoke them. It was a lesson that Nadrua still hadn’t grasped.

“Labour?” Nadrua gasped. “Those were people.”

“And there are thousands more of you to replace those that were lost,” Lhuhamaka waved dismissively towards Nadrua, “But material resources are scarce in this city, and there are many other areas requiring repairs. Vahki numbers are still low after the fight to free the city, and now we no longer have the means to manufacture more for the foreseeable future.”

“The factory was in your care,” Gharkelos spoke up, “Was it not protected?”

“It was, by a considerable contingent of Vahki,” Lhuhamaka answered, “Which brings me to my next point: only someone who has spent extended periods of time inside the factory could have informed the Odinans of how to avoid the patrols. Which can only mean that it was a Matoran who betrayed us to the enemy.”

“Or a Vortixx.” Ilton didn’t let the insult slide this time.

“My people are loyal. Yours demonstrated their divided nature yesterday.”

“Your species has a long history of being selfish and greedy,” Lariska chimed in, “Certainly more than the Matoran have ever demonstrated.”

“Only if we ignore that time the Matoran of this city fought a four hundred year Civil War that put the entire universe into a coma,” Lhuhamaka sneered.

“It’d still take at least every finger in this room to count the number of times Dark Hunters have been hired by the Vortixx,” Lariska countered.

“Regardless,” Nomar cut in. “Lhuhamaka has steered us towards our next issue: Turaga Larone and his followers.”

“His Toa pose no threat to us,” Lhuhamaka scoffed. “We have ways of dealing with Toa.”

“Killing his people would only prove his point,” Ilton pointed out.

“I said nothing of killing,” Lhuhamaka replied, looking to Nomar again. “Forget Larone. What of the Odinans?”

“The three you named will be held to account if they cross the border again. But you know we cannot risk open war with Ga-Metru.”

“Tell that to Larone,” Lariska snickered.

“The rogue Turaga is a threat to all of our interests,” Desecrator agreed. “As much as it pains me, he is no longer the ally I once saw him to be.”

“He should be executed,” Muhlene grumbled.

“We didn’t execute the Odinan leader, or the Makuta,” it was Karturuhk who protested, the Kanohi Cradle translating the spider’s clicks and hisses into coherent sentences. “The Turaga’s crimes are lesser than theirs.”

“Imprisonment, then,” Muhlene conceded.

“At the risk of being accused of mindlessly defending my own kind, I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Ilton said, “If we arrest Larone it’ll give credence to every claim he’s made about the Council. It’ll motivate his followers, maybe even sway more to his side.”

“The Toa makes a fair point,” Desecrator conceded, their overlapping voices brimming with irritation, “But Larone must be dealt with somehow.”

“Let’s not be coy,” Ilton leaned back in his chair. “I can’t be the only person in this room with a spy. We can continue to monitor Larone, and head him off if or when he tries anything else. His followers will abandon him when they see him fail over and over again.”

Desecrator nodded, seemingly convinced. “I support this strategy. It would also benefit us to resume patrols on the border with Ga-Metru, to dissuade future transgressions from either side.”

“I agree,” Muhlene said, to no one’s surprise.

“I do not condone the actions of the Odinans,” Tustesh said, speaking for the first time since arriving. “I have no objection to increased patrols.”

“A vote is in order, then. Raise of hands... erm, appendages,” Nomar amended, glancing at the Visorak, “Those in favour of monitoring the situation and increasing patrols?”

Not every representative raised a limb, but it was more than enough to pass the vote.

“It’s decided. Onto our third issue. Perception?”

The Rahkshi rose to its feet, hands folded together in front of it.

“For several weeks now, many of my people have been the victims of vicious murders,” the Rahkshi’s words came as a surprise to all, earning a chorus of murmurs from around the room. “We had hoped we could resolve this problem internally, but our enemies remain elusive. So we are asking this Council to take action.”

“Murder?” Nomar asked. “How many victims?”

“A dozen that we’re aware of. A handful of others haven’t been found, but are presumed deceased. Most were Rahkshi of Lightning or Electricity.”

Ilton felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. With those last few words, Perception had just answered a question that had haunted him for weeks. And it wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for.

The Rahkshi’s next words only confirmed it.

“The killers are a Toa, named Trina,” Perception’s slitted eyes looked directly at Ilton, then shifted to Desecrator. “And a rogue Rahkshi calling itself Gorast.”

“What exactly are you requesting of the Council?” Nomar asked.

“Your aid in executing these murderers.” Perception said. “This is not a request I make lightly. But these enemies have proven too dangerous to dissuade or detain.”

“Death might have been too harsh for Larone,” Lhuhamaka flashed a mocking glance at Karturuhk, “But I’d argue that multiple murders is valid grounds for execution.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Gharkelos nodded.

“Hold on, there are extenuating circumstances,” Ilton interjected, “Trina was infected with Shadow Sickness. She’s not in her right mind. You of all beings should know what Infection can do to change someone’s personality and judgement, Perception.”

“If she is Infected, as you say, then there is no hope for her,” Perception answered. “No one has gone this long with Shadow Sickness and survived an attempt to cure them.”

“We can’t just order people’s deaths!” Nadrua protested. “No matter the circumstances. There are due processes. We should hold a trial.”

“The accused are unlikely to present themselves,” Nomar pointed out.

“There are others who can speak on the behalf of their behalf,” Desecrator said. “Witnesses. Those who knew them.”

“Exactly,” Ilton agreed, not wasting time wondering why Desecrator of all beings was taking Nadrua’s side.

“Every minute you waste on such measures risks more Rahkshi,” Perception protested.

“Then perhaps you should have brought this matter to the attention of the Council sooner,” Lariska suggested, which was likely the closest she was going to come to taking a side.

“Given the time-sensitive nature of this subject, I think it would be best to schedule this trial for tomorrow,” Nomar said. “Desecrator. Ilton. You have until then to find your witnesses and bring them here.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Ilton said.

That would have to be enough time.

Fortunately, he already knew where to look.

[Nato G]

Chapter 9 – Cold Comfort

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

Romantic practices were once a mystery to many Matoran. Emotional affection, physical intimacy, and political marriages were all things we knew other species engaged in, but we understood little of how these things worked or what purpose they served.

I see now the part storytellers such as myself have played in preserving our ignorance. The records I and other Chroniclers keep come mainly from the mouths of Toa and Turaga. And those records speak only of the savagery and barbarism of the worst elements of other species, the ones the Toa were forced to protect us from in the past. For all of their kindness and nobility, most Toa have been taught to hold a low view of other races, and take little interest in their societies.

Now that we share the streets with these new species, however, we can see for ourselves every corner of their cultures. Their art, their stories, and their love. Not love for all through Unity, as the Turaga teach us, but profound love, between individuals. Love that the Turaga would once have called small and selfish, but we can see now is anything but.

It should come as no surprise, then, that as such dalliances become more socially acceptable, Matoran and even Toa have begun experimenting with relationships of their own. The feelings were always there, I think, the urge to be close to others, to share our lives with those special to us.

The only difference now is that the Turaga are no longer telling us it’s wrong.

* * *

Icthilos

Icthilos awoke to the first rays of daylight creeping in through the skylight of his home.

Over the past few weeks, he’d come to realise that after so much time spent in near-total darkness on Xia, he’d developed something of a sensitivity to light. He woke with the dawn every day, only sleeping in when there was cloud cover, or a fresh fall of snow over the pane of translucent ice that served as the skylight. In the first week or so after the Makuta’s defeat, he’d tried settling elsewhere in the city, but the lightstones in the streets had made it a struggle to even get to sleep. So he’d moved out here, to the outskirts of Ko-Metru, just as he’d once told Trina he would.

He didn’t mind the “early” start. Because the light came from an outside source shining through the stationary sun holes overhead, Metru Nui’s days were short, and its nights long.

He rolled over to find Savnu still snoring softly. The light never bothered her. The cold didn’t, either.

Neither one of them had expected her to still be here after all these weeks. She’d only been planning to stay a few days, to help him with the move and his recuperation from his injuries. But the longer she’d stayed, the closer they’d become. She’d made excuses to stick around longer. Then she’d stopped making excuses and just stayed. And somewhere along the line, this had become their home, not just his.

If there was a word for what they had together, it wasn’t one he knew.

Calling it love didn’t do it justice. He knew what love was. He loved the Matoran. He loved his fellow Toa. He loved his team. What he had with Savnu felt deeper, different. It was affection, gratitude, trust, certainty, respect, and devotion, existing all at once, and it had been there far longer than he’d first realised. She’d hadn’t always been at his side as Trina had. She didn’t offer him words of encouragement or support. She just acted, doing what needed to be done without needing to be told to do it. He’d been relying on her for so long he didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Icthilos stood up slowly, gritting his teeth to hold back a groan as he put weight on his bad leg. Despite the best efforts of the healers, the injuries the Shadow Matoran had inflicted had never fully been repaired. His leg remained stiff and sore, numb with a cloying cold that had nothing to do with the temperature. Similarly, his left arm was still weakened from the damage Talok had dealt, unable to carry the weight it once could, his fingers sometimes losing their grip for no apparent reason. His strength had been returning in recent weeks, but even with exercises and training, it was slow going, and he was nowhere near to being back to his old self.

His first few steps were unsteady, but once he’d worked some feeling back into his leg his strides became more stable as he crossed towards the garden.

The Ko-Metru hideaway looked very different these days. A sturdy steel door had been bolted into place over the entrance to keep out the weather and unwanted visitors, and Icthilos had reshaped parts of the interior to better accommodate the shelves and benches that had been installed around the chamber. Against one wall a garden grew, surviving despite the cold thanks to a few clever mechanisms Ilton had installed, which used a Toa Disk of Plantlife to keep the garden fertile, and a Toa Disk of Lightning to power a heatstone and lightstone to provide the warmth and light the plants needed to thrive.

Icthilos plucked a piece of fruit from the vine, watching it wither in his palm as he absorbed its energy. He tossed the leftover husk back into the garden, to help fertilise the next growth.

His hunger sated, he made his way over to his desk and sat down to resume his research. Papers and tablets were piled haphazardly across the tabletop, some of them with notes of his own scribbled in the margins. On either side of the table sat a wooden chest, one filled with research he’d discarded, the other with documents he’d yet to read.

Without access to the city’s main historical notes out of reach in Ga-Metru, he’d turned to his fellow Toa for help in locating anything of use elsewhere in the city. Personal journals, private libraries, books borrowed and not returned, historical texts brought from other lands by the League, notes from the Chronicler’s collection, anything that could help him understand how to help save Trina from her Shadow Sickness. Assuming she was even still out there to save. Assuming there even was a way to save her.

The longer he went without finding anything, the more he wondered, and worried. There’d been no sightings, no news, and what little he could find on Shadow Sickness indicated that most people who got it didn’t last long. Savnu kept insisting that they forget the research and just go out and try to capture Trina, but the last encounter between the two women had shown Icthilos how that would turn out.

Until he was certain he had a way to save or stop Trina, he didn’t want to risk starting a fight he couldn’t finish. If it came down to it, Icthilos didn’t believe that he or Savnu could kill Trina. But in her current state, Trina wouldn’t hesitate for a second.

He picked up the last journal he’d been reading, and continued skimming through it. Then it was onto a cracked stone tablet. That a tattered parchment. Most of it wasn’t what he’d wanted, only being tangentially related to Shadow Matoran or Rahkshi or infected Kanohi. Most of what he read only corroborated common knowledge, or confirmed long-held beliefs. And none of it brought him any closer to figuring out how to save Trina.

The only recommendations he could find for treating Shadow Sickness involved prolonged exposure to natural light and frequent treatments from healing powers. But that only worked for recently-infected cases who were cooperating with the treatment, and working with healers who knew what they were doing. Trina had been far gone when he’d last seen her, and was likely even worse off now. She certainly wasn’t going to cooperate, and there was no telling how her existing Shadow Sickness had interacted with being drained by a Shadow Leech. Not to mention the fact that skilled healers were few and far between these days.  

He'd long since lost track of how long he’d been reading for, absorbed in his desperate search for any wayward word or scribbled suggestion that could help him. He only became aware of his surroundings again when a sudden rush of air sent the papers ruffling from his grasp, most of them billowing off the table and onto the floor.

“You’re up early,” Savnu remarked, sitting down atop the now-cleared desk.

“I always am,” he folded his arms as he looked up at her. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did,” a playful smile flittered across her features, “Come on outside. You need to train.”

“I need to read,” he reached for one of the stone tablets.

“Whatever you’re looking for hasn’t been in the last hundred things you’ve read,” Savnu’s expression turned serious. “It’s not going to be in that one. Now get up. That leg of yours is never going to improve if you spend all your time sitting around.”

In the time it took Icthilos to push back his chair and stand up, Savnu’s Kakama had carried her over to the garden for a snack, then over to the door to open it, then back to Icthilos to grab his arm and push him towards the door.

Just as the inside of the hideaway had undergone renovations, so too had the outside. The surrounding snowfield had become equal parts obstacle course and training ground, with targets, effigies, and barriers placed all around. All of the pieces had been firmly anchored into blocks of ice, which Icthilos moved around with his powers every few days to keep things unpredictable.

A stone chest sat by the door, filled with makeshift wooden weapons for practice. Savnu’s sai and Icthilos’ flail hung on the walls inside, waiting for the day they’d be needed again. A day that Icthilos quietly hoped would never come.

Savnu reached into the chest and tossed a simple staff to Icthilos, taking a pair of daggers for herself. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He stepped back onto the snow, shifting into a ready stance. Savnu’s Kakama glowed and she vanished, a red blur whirling by against the white backdrop.

Icthilos had gone through this enough times to know what Savnu’s first move would be, and he spun around to face it. Wood clattered and cracked as he parried the dagger that had been aimed for his back. He sidestepped the swing of the second dagger, and retaliated with a swipe of his staff, though Savnu was speeding away long before the blow could have connected.

A flicker of red in his periphery clued him in to the direction of the next attack. This time he ducked under the swipe of Savnu’s dagger and jabbed his staff at her legs, trying to trip her up. She jumped over the swing and tapped him atop the head with her other dagger, scampering away before he could take another swing.

“You need to take the initiative!” Savnu circled around him. “Stop being defensive and take the fight to me!”

It wasn’t a fair request. Even without his injuries, keeping up with a Kakama would have been near-impossible for him. But that was the point. Their enemies had never fought fair. Rare was the day that a Toa faced a foe they could defeat without effort.

Icthilos clumsily fended off Savnu’s next blow, and reached out with his powers, trying to sense her movements through the shifting of the snow. The terrain, and his connection to it, was the only advantage he had here. But her sheer speed made it difficult for him to-

There!

Soft snow turned to hard ice at his command, and Savnu let out a pained cry as she was brought to a very sudden stop. Icthilos turned towards the sound, worried he’d hurt her, and was startled to find one of the wooden daggers already flying at his face.

He turned his head, letting it bounce off the side of his Kanohi. By the time he looked back Savnu was already coming at him again, steam rising up behind her from where she’d melted herself free.

She struck him in the chest, knocking him to the ground and pinning him there, her remaining dagger resting against his throat.

“Neat trick,” she panted, leaning forward until their masks were touching, “You had me for a second there.”

“I thought I had you all the time.”

For a moment, Savnu said nothing. Her emerald eyes gazed into his, alight and alive in a way he’d rarely seen from her. When they’d first come here, she’d been as broken emotionally as he was physically. Losing Keidal, Orane, Trina, and Vhalem in the space of two days had almost crushed her. She hadn’t talked about it, and hadn’t needed to. Icthilos had been by her side through those battles, had lost as many Brothers and Sisters and friends as she had. Just as she was helping him recover physically, they’d helped each other mentally as well. Shoulders to cry on, words of encouragement, space and solitude when it was needed, and challenges to keep each other motivated.

They’d saved each other. Just as they had so many times before.  

Icthilos started to lean a little closer, angling his mouth towards hers.

Savnu let the kiss connect for only a second before rolling off of him. “The snow thing was a smart way to try to hold me back, but you need to move around more. I know it hurts, but you need to push that leg.”

She sprung to her feet, reaching down to help him stand up.

“You know it’s not that easy,” he grumbled. “One bad fall and I’ll be worse off than I already am. Easy to do in terrain like this.”

“You just demonstrated your ability to control the terrain. If you’re going to make excuses, at least make them good ones.”

“Alright, fine,” he conceded. “I stand by the first part, though.”

“I get it,” she said, “I don’t know how I’d cope if I couldn’t run anymore. But you know you need to push yourself. You need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Icthilos knew exactly what he’d invited by asking that question, and he was ready for it. His staff was raised even before Savnu threw the other dagger, swatting it aside as she sped over to snatch up the one she’d thrown earlier. 

“Ready for what’s coming!” Savnu replied, circling swiftly around him to pick up the second blade as well. “Whatever it is.”

“Are you being dramatic or do you actually think something’s going to happen?” He asked, lunging towards her and bringing the staff down in an overhead strike.

“Both.” She crossed her blades and caught the staff between them, redirecting the weapon towards the ground.

Icthilos didn’t give her the chance to counterattack, pressing forward with a clumsy shoulder charge that had the intended effect of forcing her to scramble out of his path. As she did he brought his staff sweeping back up, clipping one of her legs and causing her to faceplant into the snow.

Savnu rolled to the side as Icthilos jabbed the staff at her prone form, avoiding what would have been a finishing blow in a real battle. She bounced back upright once she was a few bio away, smiling even as she spat snow out of her mouth. “Better.”

“You were being easy on me,” he grumbled. “Use your Kakama or don’t. Stop toying with me.”

“I’m trying to be unpredictable.”

“Then tell me what you’re afraid of. What do you think’s coming?”

“I don’t know. And that’s what scares me.” She dived towards him, leaning low and slashing at his legs, forcing him to stumble back out of her reach. She planted her hands on the ground and brought her legs around in a sweeping strike aimed at his uninjured leg. Icthilos leapt clumsily over the kick, jabbing the staff at her as he came back down to give himself some space.

“Six Toa sealed Vhel away,” Savnu said, moving close again to slash at him. “But none of them became Turaga.” Icthilos swatted the dagger from her hand with the staff, but Savnu seized her moment and stepped in close, pressing the remaining dagger to his throat again. “Not a single Toa in this city has turned into a Turaga since we left Xia.”

“Maybe Destiny really did die with the Great Spirit,” Icthilos suggested, not believing the words even as he spoke them. “Maybe the cycle is broken.”

“Matoran still become Toa,” Savnu countered, leaning closer. “Maybe Destiny still has plans for us.”

“Hasn’t Destiny taken enough from us?” Icthilos scowled, tossing the staff aside as he stepped away. “What more do we need to do?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” he sighed. “I just- we’ve lost so much. Where does it end?”

“I don’t know that it does. Even Turaga have a Duty.”

“To Karzahni with that. I told you once before, we’ve earned the right to decide when we’re done.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be so angry right now.”

Icthilos bent down to pick up the dropped staff, then carried it back to the chest it had come from. Savnu followed silently, doing the same with her daggers as she waited for him to speak.

“They always told us Destiny was a virtue,” he said. “But it feels like a chain, dragging me down. Or an executioner’s axe, hanging over my head. It’s like… I’ll never be free until it’s fulfilled.”

“You are free,” Savnu stopped before him and took his hands in her own. “Duty will make demands of us, and Destiny awaits us somewhere along the way, but between those moments there are days like today, where we can live our lives however we wish.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

There was a gleeful glint in her green eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him again. “If Destiny is a prison, then at least we’re in it together.”

“I’m never going to get used to that,” the voice was one neither of them had expected to hear, especially not during a moment like this.

With all the composure of a young Matoran who’d been caught making lewd drawings in the sand of an Amaja Circle, Icthilos whirled around to face Ilton.

“Brother,” he sputtered, even as Savnu laughed beside him. “What brings you here?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” the Toa of Iron looked like he’d aged a decade since Icthilos had last seen him, just a few weeks past. He looked tired, his face haggard and his eyes red. And his expression appeared more grim than it had been on the day he’d learned of Keidal and Orane’s deaths.

“What’s wrong?” Savnu asked. “Has someone died?”

“Someone might be about to,” Ilton sighed. “The Rahkshi want Trina dead.”

“What?”

“I’ve got a lot to catch you up on. But the short of it is that the Council are going to put her on trial in absentia tomorrow. I need witnesses to speak in her defence, and- after what she did, Savnu, I’ll understand if you don’t want to-”

“I’m going,” she said firmly. “I’ll pack. You can catch us up on everything when we’re on the road.”

Ilton nodded as Savnu hurried back inside, then turned to Icthilos. “I think I already know what your answer will be.”

“I don’t know how to help her,” Icthilos said. “Not with the Shadow Sickness. But this… this I can do.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 10 – In Pursuit Of Knowledge

From the ravings of The Recorder.

Though the League has dissolved, and the Dark Hunters have reinstated themselves as an independent organisation, I have chosen to remain with Desecrator. Not out of fear, nor loyalty, but out of curiosity.

I’ve spent most of my existence chronicling the exploits of powerful beings. But Desecrator offers me a perspective I’ve never explored before, that of a being who had power, but relinquished it. They still hold the loyalty of the Skakdi, yes, but they’ve lost the Dark Hunters, and many of the other League species. At times, I see frustration and fury in Desecrator, as beings that once bent to their whims scheme and squabble unchecked.

But not once have I seen regret.

More than anything else, Desecrator fought for the freedom of their followers. Even if they don’t approve of what some of them are doing with that freedom, they still respect their right to have it.

That, to me, makes Desecrator the most intriguing being I’ve ever chronicled.

* * *

Tustesh

“I spoke to the Chronicler.”

Tustesh didn’t waste time with greetings. Lyrami’s body language – the hunched shoulders, the clenched hands, the absent-minded clacking of her teeth and tusks – betrayed her growing frustration. Broken tablets and torn papers littered the floor around her desk, each worthless piece of research having been discarded with greater rage than the one before it.

“Tell me he gave you something of worth,” she said, looking up at him with tired eyes. It was clear to Tustesh that she hadn’t slept well last night, if at all.  

“Nothing certain,” he said. “But a new lead.”

“We’ve had enough leads!” Lyrami scowled, throwing another stone tablet across the room to shatter against a vine-encrusted column. “There’s nowhere else to go. If the answer isn’t here, in this city-”

“I think it is. We’re just looking in the wrong place.”

“Where, then?”

“Ko-Metru. The Chronicler told me the scholars there once looked to the stars for portents and prophecies. He said the stars have changed over the centuries, but one – what he called the Red Star – remained constant.”

“He spoke of a Red Star?”

“And we seek a Crimson City,” Tustesh nodded. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Then we should visit this Ko-Metru,” she stood up from the desk, smiling widely, “At once.”

* * *

Ilton

Once Ilton had caught Icthilos and Savnu up on the circumstances of Trina’s trial, their journey had proceeded mostly in silence. Ilton didn’t take offence at their lack of questions. The two of them wouldn’t have moved out to the middle of nowhere if they had any interest in hearing about the way the Council was running the city.  

Every now and again, Savnu glanced back at Ilton as if she wanted to ask him something, but whatever subject she was stewing over, she seemed reluctant to broach it in front of Icthilos.

She’d wandered on ahead now, Kakama-ing around to catch some of the sights in the neighbouring areas while Ilton and Icthilos took the most direct route to the Coliseum.

“Do you need to stop and rest?” Ilton asked quietly.

Icthilos was doing his best to keep a straight face, but Ilton knew his tells. His leg was clearly paining him, his limp growing gradually more pronounced over the past hour. In all likelihood, he hadn’t done this much walking since before he’d been injured.

“I- that would be appreciated,” Icthilos nodded.

The two Toa sat down on a bench, looking on towards their destination. The Coliseum was visible from all across the city, and its centralised position meant it caught plenty of light from the Sun Holes. They were on the outskirts of Ko-Metru now, where some Matoran and other beings had begun to re-inhabit the region. Firelight flickered inside some structures, and a few denizens were roaming around nearby, shovelling snow or performing other duties. Perhaps the most amusing feature of the region were the long-frozen Keerahk still scattered about, which had been decorated with apparel as if they were scarecrows guarding a field.

“So…” Ilton cleared his throat, “…I understand you and Savnu have been getting close.”

“We’ve been living together for weeks. We’re not trying to make a secret of it.”

“I’ve known plenty of Toa who’ve lived under the same roof, shared the same meals and bedrolls,” Ilton said. “But I don’t know many who lock lips and do… whatever else it is you two do to each other.”

“We’re-”

“I really don’t want to know.”

“All I was going to say is that we we’re still figuring things out. In terms of our… standing with each other, I guess. We’ve known each other for centuries, but it was always distant and professional. She was on your team, I was leading my own, and then on Xia I was leading everyone, and now…”

“No teams, and no leaders. We’re all equals.” Ilton nodded. “For what it’s worth, Savnu never cared much for the chain of command anyway. She probably doesn’t know what to do with herself now that she’s got no one to rebel against.”

“Savnu’s not the one who’s struggling,” Icthilos’ voice dropped to a whisper, and Ilton heard shame in the Ko-Toa’s voice for the first time in his life. “My team’s gone. I can’t even help save the one who’s still alive. I can barely swing a weapon. I just- I don’t know why Savnu stayed. I don’t deserve-”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Ilton said gently. “Whatever mistakes you’ve made, you’ve already paid for them. So take whatever joy you can find. Even if it’s with Savnu.”

A gust of air heralded Savnu’s return as she reappeared behind the two Toa, just as Ilton was finishing his last sentence. “Even if what’s with me?”

“I was just telling Icthilos he’s lucky to have you,” Ilton said. It wasn’t technically a lie. He glanced at Icthilos, who was still staring at the floor with an expression of solemn contemplation on his face.

“Even if you’re probably doomed,” he added, getting to his feet and looking Savnu in the eye to keep her focus on him.

“Doomed?”

“I think it’s fair to say that you can both reckless,” Ilton said, “Moreso when you’re together, with no one else around to keep you in check. So please be careful with what you say tomorrow.”

“Trina’s life is on the line,” Icthilos finally spoke again as he too stood up. “We’re not going to take any unnecessary risks.”

* * *

Pira

“What do you want?” Was the only greeting Larone offered to Pira when she stepped into the room where he was resting.

He hadn’t left his house since his failed march to Ga-Metru the previous day. Only Chavara and Ihnes had even been allowed in and out of the building until now, when Pira had finally been permitted entry.

She found him curled up on a crumpled couch in the corner of one of the front rooms. He’d closed the windows and drawn the curtains, plunging the dour dwelling into darkness. Smoke swirled from a wooden pipe clenched in his teeth, and with the windows shut the smoke hung in a haze that made the room even more murky.

“I came to apologise,” Pira said, waving her hand and summoning a waft of wind that dispersed the smoke. “But now I’m thinking I should throw you outside so you can get the daylight and fresh air you clearly need.”

“Don’t lecture me, girl,” Larone’s words came out in a cough as he jabbed his pipe accusingly in her direction, the sudden motion causing a shower of cinders to cascade onto the cold stone floor. “The only thing I need is obedience. And for all of you out there to gain some Karzing courage.”

“The people out there might not like the Odinans, but they didn’t sign up to start another war. Especially not one where they could end up fighting against other Toa.”

“We fought against other Toa in the last war, too. If the Matoran haven’t accepted that reality by now, there’s nothing more I can do to make them understand.”

“Understanding something and facing it in battle are two very different things,” Pira countered.

“These Matoran have lost sight of their history,” Larone’s expression was sour. “They once had no fear of fighting each other, or anyone else.”

“Maybe it’s good that they don’t rush to violence so readily anymore. I would’ve thought-”

“All you do is think,” Larone drawled, flinging the pipe at her. It bounced harmlessly off her chestplate and clattered to the floor. “Second-guessing my orders. Doubting our capabilities. Stressing over every little possibility. Stop thinking and start acting!”

“That’s what gets people killed.”

“No. Hesitating is what gets people killed!” Larone lurched forward in his chair. “Your reluctance to give me Toa Stones is what forced me to ally with the League. We all knew the Vortixx couldn’t be trusted, but you left us all with no choice… and your friend died for it.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“I dare,” Larone snarled. “You think Vhalem was special? That his death meant something? He’s just one more name in a list that numbers in the millions.”

“Your plan would have just added more names to that list.”

“Inaction will have the same result.”

“Okay, so what’s your big plan now? Or have you not been thinking about that?”

“For now, we do nothing. The Odinans are ready for us, and the Council are watching. We must wait for an opportunity to arise.”

“And in the meantime?”

“You have a decision to make. If you’re going to continue to undermine me, then you should just leave. If you’re going to stay, then obey.”

“I’ll think it over,” Pira muttered, opting for the most non-committal response she could muster.

“Good. Now go.”

* * *

Tustesh

Hailing from a species who the Great Spirit himself had blessed with indestructible armour, few things bothered Tustesh. Even the bitter cold of Ko-Metru was only a mild irritation.

The physical presence of the snow was a greater annoyance.

Tustesh and Lyrami trudged unsteadily through the snow, flanked by a half-dozen more of their warriors. With each step the Unbroken sunk to their knees in the deep drifts that had accumulated around the Knowledge Towers. Their cloaks dragged behind them as they walked, their weight doubled by the sludge soaking into the cloth.

“I hope this labour is worth it,” he muttered to Lyrami.

“We won’t know until we get inside,” Lyrami replied, absently tugging at her own sodden robes. She turned back to the other warriors. “Split up, take a tower each.”

These six hadn’t been chosen by chance. Like Lyrami, they could all read the Matoran language.

“Search for any mention of the Red Star.”

“Go with Faith, my Sisters and Brothers,” Tustesh ordered. “What you discover today could lead to us all finding our Fate.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 11 – From Shadows

From the journal of Turaga Marik (archived after his death).

Makuta Vhel has transformed me, blessing me with the power of Shadow.

I look different. I feel different. But at the same time, I feel strangely unchanged. I still think the same way, I still want the same things. The only difference is that I’m no longer afraid.

Doubt and indecision no longer plague me.

I think this is what freedom feels like.

* * *

Ilton

Ilton found himself surprisingly relieved when he returned to his chambers to find Sidra waiting for him. It was late afternoon now; he’d spent the last two hours taking Savnu and Icthilos on a tour of the Coliseum, catching up with other Toa, before showing them to their room for the evening.

Sidra was sitting in an empty chair by the window when he entered, absently picking at the dirt caught under her claws.

“I see you let yourself in again,” he observed, closing the door behind him.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, so I just waited.”

“You disappeared yesterday. Where have you been?”

“Here. In the Coliseum, I mean. I came back yesterday afternoon. I just… didn’t feel ready to talk to anyone for a while.”

“And you’re ready now?” Ilton sat down in another chair.

“Not really. But I’m ready to get back to work.”

“We had an unscheduled Council meeting this morning.”

“I heard. I sat in on it,” she tapped her Kanohi. “I saved her life once. The Toa, Trina. I was sorry to hear what happened to her… what’s still happening to her. It’s hard to tell ourselves the war is over when it’s still impacting so many people.”

“Are we still talking about Trina?”

Sidra sighed. “I spoke to Neryx. She tracked me down after I left the border.”

“Did she hurt you?”

“No. Well, yes, in a way. But… not intentionally,” Sidra let out a frustrated groan and slumped forward, resting her head on her hands.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“She told me she still loved me… and I think I feel the same way. Even after… everything. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I’m really not the right person to ask about this kind of thing,” Ilton replied, his tone apologetic.

“I know. You’re just… kind of all I have.”

“Fair enough,” Ilton leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him. “I suppose the first thing you should be asking yourself is if you think she’s telling the truth?”

“She is,” Sidra nodded firmly. “Neryx isn’t like me. She’s not a liar.”

“I know you well enough to trust your judgement, so let’s take her words at face value. I’m still confused by my Sister pairing up with my friend, so I won’t pretend to be an expert on how relationships work. But I do know loss.”

“Loss?”

“You betrayed her. She stabbed you. You haven’t seen each other in weeks. Nobody died, but you did lose what you had together, and that can hit just as hard.”

“What are you saying?”

“What did she say? Exactly?”

“That she misses me. That she forgives me, hopes I can forgive her. And… that she loves me.”

“In my experience, when someone dies, we tend to only remember the good times. We forget the lies and the insults and the arguments and only fixate on the happy moments. My Brother Orane killed my other Brother Keidal, and tried to kill my Sister Savnu. But now that he’s dead I keep finding myself thinking about the times we sat around a campfire telling jokes, or working together at the forge.”

“What’s that got to do with Neryx?”

“You need to consider the possibility that she might be doing the same thing.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that when she says she misses you, loves you, she actually means she misses and loves the life you had together. I’m not saying that she’s intentionally lying, but that she’s lonely and doesn’t know what she’s really feeling.”

“How will I know?”

“You won’t. Until you can somehow find a way in this whole mess to spend some real time together, and figure things out.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Sidra stood up. “I’ll be keeping an eye on the trial tomorrow. I hope things work out for you and your friends.”

* * *

Trina

Tendrils of electricity curled around Trina’s hands as the Rahkshi suit collapsed at her feet, the kraata inside it withered and lifeless.

It had felt strange and unsettling at first. Now it had become effortless. She couldn’t replenish her powers the normal way anymore, but draining the energy of Lightning and Electricity Rahkshi allowed her to retain her original element despite her Shadow-infected state.

Just behind her, Gorast had finished magnetically dismembering the other two Rahkshi that had been accompanying Trina’s target.

The Rahkshi were travelling in groups now, not that it made dispatching them any more difficult. Their suits were made of metal, and metal obeyed Gorast. As Trina turned around, the black-and-gold Rahkshi was in the process of finishing off the two Kraata trying to crawl away from the destroyed suits, silencing their plaintive wails with decisive stomps of her feet.

“We’re getting close,” Trina said. “Let’s keep moving.”

Though she couldn’t see the sun from where she was, Trina knew it was nearly nightfall because the Rahkshi were all moving towards the surface, gathering near the tunnel entrances. Which meant that the dark heart of their underground empire was now undefended.

Until now, Trina and Gorast had been prowling isolated tunnels, picking off lone Rahkshi who strayed too far from the well-travelled routes. But with the Rahkshi now sticking together in groups, and ramping up their efforts to find those hunting them, Trina had changed tactics. Tonight, she and Gorast were pushing to the very centre of the tunnels. Just as the city above revolved around the Coliseum, so too did the Rahkshi tunnels below all converge on the Core Processor.

Trina had grown increasingly certain in recent weeks that the Rahkshi were hiding or protecting something down here. Given that there were more than forty types of Rahkshi, it had taken her weeks to notice what was missing, but once she’d figured it out, she couldn’t get it out of her head: in all of her time in the city, aboveground and below, she hadn’t seen or encountered a single Stasis Field Rahkshi. Not one.

That had to mean something.

Stasis fields were only useful for one thing: containing something. But what could possibly require every stasis field Rahkshi in the city? Were they protecting something? Keeping it trapped?

Trina was determined to find out.

* * *

Icthilos

Icthilos hadn’t been back in the Coliseum since the day Makuta Vhel had been defeated. He hadn’t been planning to come back, ever. Knowing that Talok was in the basement and Vhel was just a few floors above him made it all the more uncomfortable being back.

Still… there was no disputing that the tower had the best view in the city.  

“You’ve got your ‘I don’t want to be here’ face on,” Savnu said, nudging his shoulder.

“That would be because I don’t want to be here,” he muttered, turning away from the window.

“Just remember why we’re here. For Trina.”

“That’s the only reason I’m still here.”

“Are you sure?” Savnu asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“What are you asking?”

“It’s just- there’s been times where I’ve wondered if you even wanted to help Trina,” Savnu said. “I’ve tried so many times to convince you to get out there and look for her, and you keep stonewalling me.”

“You know I’m in no condition to-”

“Don’t give me that!” Savnu snapped. “The Icthilos I know trudged through tunnels and climbed stairs with a busted leg to fight a Makuta. A limp wouldn’t have stopped him from saving his best friend.”

“Alright, you win,” Icthilos sighed, sitting down in a chair across from her. “I don’t know how to help her. I’ve read everything I can find, but-”

“I know all of that. Sitting in a cave reading old records isn’t going to help her. If we’d gone out there and captured her the Rahkshi wouldn’t be trying to kill her now.”

“You could’ve gone after her yourself any time. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“And there’s the problem. Alone is the only way I can face Trina.”

“You’re going to have to walk me through that logic,” Savnu scoffed. “You can’t say you’re too injured to fight her, then insist that you have to fight her alone. What happened to Unity?”

“You did.”

“Me?”

“Trina nearly killed you the last time you faced her. She won’t hesitate to finish the job if you come after her again.”

“There was nothing I could do to save Orane. But I can try to save Trina. So I’m absolutely willing to take that risk.”

“But I’m not.”

“What?”

“I can’t lose you. Not to her. If she kills you, or you’re forced to kill her… I’ll lose you both.”

“Icthilos, I-”

“And we’ll lose her anyway if we do nothing. I know that. But it’s impossible to talk you out of anything, and I don’t know how to deal with Trina without putting you in harm’s way.”

“You could’ve started by telling me all of this weeks ago.”

“Have you changed your mind about wanting to find her?”

“No.”

“Then there was no point in me saying it.”

“Of course there was a point,” Savnu let out an exasperated sigh. “I want to know what you think, what you feel. It doesn’t help either of us to keep all that bottled up.”

“So, where do we go from here?”

“Regardless of what happens with the trial tomorrow, I say we find Trina afterwards. No more excuses. No matter what you feel for me, she’s more important.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need me to answer that for you.”  

He nodded. Trina had been by his side for so long that even now he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. And now she was all that was left of their old team.

“I don’t want to have to choose between you,” he said softly.

“You won’t have to,” Savnu reached out and took his hands. “I just want to help find her. If it’s what you need, I’ll keep my distance. I won’t provoke her. If it comes to a fight I’ll stay out of it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”  

[Nato G]

Chapter 12 – The Trial

From the ravings of The Recorder.

The Council of the League was little more than formality, a pretence at representation. Desecrator held all of the power. But in this new Council, all members are true equals.

I think Desecrator is still struggling to come to terms with that.

* * *

Icthilos

This was Icthilos’ first time engaging with most of the Council, and so far it was proving to be a disappointing experience. It was abundantly clear from their body language that most of the beings in the room had no interest whatsoever in what was said during the trial. Many of them were openly yawning, or reading unrelated notes they’d brought in with them. Some of them had brought their breakfasts along. One, the Unbroken leader Tustesh, hadn’t even bothered to show up.

The trial had commenced first thing in the morning, and after some quick introductions and rambling from the Rahkshi, Savnu had volunteered to be the first to take the stand. She’d just spent the last few minutes speaking to Trina’s merits, and detailing some of the battles Trina had been involved in since returning to Metru Nui. None of it seemed to be moving many members of the Council.

“-and yes, Trina has done some dark things. I’m not going to even try to deny the claim that she destroyed those Rahkshi. She killed my own Brother right in front of me,” Savnu’s voice cracked for a moment. “But I forgive her. Because her mind is not her own right now. She was infected by Shadow Sickness while saving Icthilos’ life. She doesn’t deserve to be executed for acting selflessly. When she’s back to her normal self, the guilt she’s going to feel will be punishment enough.”

“Thank you for your spirited testimony,” the aquatic creature, Nomar, said. She then gestured to Icthilos. “It’s your turn to take the stand.”

“If it’s all the same to the Council, I’m happy for Desecrator to go next,” Icthilos said.

“Very well,” Nomar gestured to Desecrator.

“What are you doing?” Savnu whispered, as she sat back down next to Icthilos in a spare chair propped against the wall behind Ilton’s section of the table.

“Look at their faces,” Icthilos replied, “They didn’t care for a word you just said. Hearing me repeat pretty much the same points isn’t going to change their minds.”

“So you’re just giving up?”

“No. I’m working on plan B.”

“Gorast was a valued member of the League,” Desecrator stood up, their overlapping voices echoing eerily in the crowded chamber. “She fought at the side of every other species in this city against her fellow Rahkshi, in the name of freedom and equality for all.”

“She doesn’t fight for freedom or equality,” Perception scoffed, sounding more emotive than Icthilos had ever heard from them before. “She’s a rabid animal, blindly seeking revenge for the death of her own Makuta. She can’t claim her revenge against Teridax or Vhel so she’s taking her hatred out on every other Rahkshi she can find.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you of all beings can appreciate how difficult it can be for a Rahkshi to adjust to becoming a Shadow Kraata,” Desecrator tutted. “From what little Gorast told me, you go from being obedient drones to suddenly having emotions and individuality. How long did it take you to master yourself? How much help did you get from your own Makuta? Because Gorast didn’t get to spend much time with her namesake before she was sent to Karda Nui and perished with so many others there.”  

“I have no sympathy for a being who has slaughtered dozens of my kind,” Perception said.

“I really don’t care much about this either way,” Lhuhamaka spoke up. “The way I see it, one less Rahkshi and Toa in this city isn’t going to affect anything. So let’s just get rid of them.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Gharkelos spoke up. “I’d expect the other members of this Council to aid me if my people were being targeted. I’d be a hypocrite not to support Perception.”

“Agreed,” echoed Nomar. “I have no love for Rahkshi. I lost a great many friends to them during Vhel’s occupation. But this is a new age, and eliminating these two rogues is in the best interests of stability in this city.”

Icthilos sighed. At his side, Savnu scowled.

“What happened to our Unity?” Desecrator growled, eyes aglow with fiery light. “How can you turn your back on one of our own?”

“The League is gone,” Lhuhamaka sneered, “Your threats aren’t enough to persuade us anymore.”

“What would be enough?” Icthilos asked, seizing his moment to enter the conversation. “It’s pretty clear from where I’m sitting that nothing we’ve said so far has really made an impact. So what would it take to change your minds?”

“You would have to present quite the prize,” Nomar said. “What are you offering?”

“Alright,” Icthilos clapped his hands together as he got to his feet. “So you’re open to the idea. The real question is what do you want? What kind of price or favour would be enough to buy the life of Trina? And Gorast,” he quickly amended, seeing Desecrator glower in his direction.

“This is plan B?” Savnu hissed. “We have nothing to bargain with.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“We already have the treasures from Makuta’s lair,” Lhuhamaka pointed out.

“And we’ve returned to you the contents of the old Suva,” Perception added.

“Many of our species have our own Mask Makers,” Gharkelos said.   

“I’ll ask again,” Nomar spoke up once more, “What are you offering?”

Icthilos smiled. “How about the Staff Of Artakha?”

That got Nomar’s attention. The Order Of Mata Nui member leaned forward, steely claws scraping at the tabletop. “The Staff was lost when we were taken into custody by Vhel’s forces. It hasn’t been seen since.”

“I’ve seen it. I’ve even held it.”

“How can you be certain it was genuine?” Nomar asked.

“It repaired my armour, just from me holding it. Seemed to effect anything it touched.”

“Then we accept your price,” Nomar said.

“No, we don’t,” Lhuhamaka interjected. “This Council is a democracy. What is this staff, anyway?”

“The Staff Of Artakha is an artefact created by the great architect who shared its name,” Nomar explained. “It can repair any inorganic object, like a Kanohi Kiril, but at far greater speed and strength. When its powers were amplified by the Power Cradle we had on Daxia, we were able to repair the ravages caused by the Great Cataclysm, across every corner of the universe.”

That earned a few mumbles from the representatives and their aides. Every being present remembered the moment the universe had suddenly reassembled itself, when a broken continent had been returned to its original state, when ruined cities had been restored, and other widespread damages had been repaired in the space of seconds.

“This Power Cradle… is it possible to construct another?” Lhuhamaka asked.

“The being who built it is still with us,” Nomar nodded. “And this city has the required resources.”

“Then I too, accept this price,” Lhuhamaka said. “Where is this staff, Toa?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Icthilos allowed a triumphant smile to form on his face. “Trina’s the last person who had it.”

“Of course she was,” Lhuhamaka scoffed.

“You, Ta-Toa,” Nomar pointed at Savnu, “In your story, you said you spent time with Trina after the destruction of the Moto-Hub. Did she have the staff?”

“Not that I saw,” Savnu gave Icthilos an apologetic glance. “But I didn’t meet up with her until almost a week afterwards. She could’ve hidden it during that time.”

“This all sounds too convenient for my liking,” Nomar muttered.

“The staff was given to me by Makuta Vhel, acting on Talok’s behalf,” Icthilos said. “He can confirm its existence. Submit us both to a Rode Test.”

Icthilos hadn’t taken much interest in the Council’s activities in the past few weeks, but something he did know was that one on the Council’s first requests had been for Ilton to construct a new Kanohi Rode for exactly this kind of purpose.

“Very well,” Nomar gestured to her lieutenant Sallitor – an Avsa-wearing giant clad in blue and silver. “Go fetch the Kanohi Rode, and send for Talok to be brought to this chamber immediately.”

The Council representatives descended into furtive murmurs once more as the titan rushed out to fulfil Nomar’s orders. At the same time, Ilton turned around in his chair to face Icthilos.

“Talok?” He asked quietly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Icthilos looked at his scarred forearm, remembering all too well the belittling glee in Talok’s eyes when he’d struck the blow. “For Trina, yes.”

Savnu reached across to take his hand. “I like plan B. Looks like Nomar’s on our side.”

“You got Lhuhamaka as well,” Ilton agreed, “I thought she was going to be the hardest to convince. The rest look ready to agree as well.”

“The Rode Test should be enough to win them all over,” Icthilos said. “I hope.”

A few minutes later, the doors reopened and the blue titan returned with a Kanohi Rode grasped in her oversized hands. She was followed a moment later by a silver-and-black being walking on four insect-like legs: Ohrik, the Coliseum’s new jailer. He was an unpleasant-looking being, his lower limbs jagged and spiky, with a red glow to his eyes and heartlight, and sharp mandibles poking out from behind the Kanohi Volitak he wore. A length of chain was clutched in his hands, attached to the cuffs binding the hands of the third being to enter the room: Talok.

Imprisonment hadn’t diminished the Mesmer in the slightest. He still stood sure and proud, smiling despite the blindfold covering his eyes.

“You stand before the Council of Metru Nui,” Nomar spoke, as she donned the Kanohi Rode. “We have a question to ask of you.”

“Ah, Nomar. It’s been a while since we last spoke. This must be an important question if you brought me to your little meeting, instead of interrogating me in my cell,” Talok chuckled. “Who asked for me to be here?”

“I did.”

“Icthilos!” Talok’s voice took on an excited note as his head swept around to face his direction. “In that case, I’m happy to answer any questions you may have.”

Even with the Mesmer’s eye covered, Icthilos still felt Talok’s gaze on him. Even now, with his powers cut off and his hands in irons, Talok stood and spoke as if he were the one in control.  

“Just one will suffice,” Nomar said. “Did you give the Staff Of Artakha to Toa Icthilos. The real thing?”

“Indirectly, yes. Making him repair the damage his foolish little rebellion caused would have been a fitting punishment for opposing me. Though I get the sense that he’s now trying to use it to repair something else?”

“We’re the ones asking the questions,” Nomar growled. “Icthilos. Tell us again what became of the staff.”

“I gave it to Trina for safekeeping, shortly before the Moto-Hub was attacked. I haven’t seen it since.”

“Ah, so this is about your dear, darkened Sister,” Talok taunted. “Is the Council threatening to take her away from you?”

“Take him away,” Nomar clicked her claws together.

Ohrik let out a chittering sound and headed back out the door, dragging Talok behind him.

“I’m glad you’re back in the game, Icthilos,” Talok called over his shoulder a moment before the door slammed shut behind him. It sounded like he said something more after that, but it was too muffled by the door for Icthilos to make out.

“They were telling the truth,” Nomar took off the Rode and placed it on the table before her. “I’d like to suggest that we issue a capture order for these two rogues. If they’re apprehended, if the staff is provided, and if they agree to cease killing Rahkhi, their lives will be spared.”

“I… accept this compromise,” Perception said, after a moment’s consideration.

“Let’s put it to a vote and get this over with, then,” Lariska spoke up for the first time since the meeting had started.

Savnu squeezed Icthilos’ hand, smiling at him as hand after hand rose around the room. Desecrator, Muhlene, Nomar, Ilton, Lhuhamaka, Lariska… Icthilos blinked in sudden surprised as he realised every single representative had voted in favour.

“It’s decided, then,” Nomar said, looking at Icthilos. “Let us hope your friend cooperates. Those we send to find her will defend themselves, if necessary.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Icthilos said. “I’ll find her myself. I stand the best chance of bringing her in without bloodshed.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 13 – Change Of Heart

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

I’ll admit, the Council’s decision surprised me.

We Matoran have always been taught that life has value, and that those who take lives are evil. My role as a Chronicler has taught me that such things aren’t as clear-cut, that there are circumstances where killing can become necessary, situations where the loss of life is beyond anyone’s control.

But I don’t know what to make of Trina.

She was a noble Toa, by all accounts, one who never compromised the code until now. I understand that she’s Infected, that she is no longer acting as she once did… but her mind is still her own. No one is controlling or coercing her. She’s killed at least two other Toa, fallen though they were.

Where do we draw the line? How many lives is too many, regardless of the excuses?

I don’t know the answer.

Perhaps it’s for the best that I simply record the decisions, not make them.

* * *

Ilton

“So much for not taking unnecessary risks,” Ilton sighed. After the meeting, he’d pulled Savnu into an adjacent room to speak in private, while Icthilos caught up with Nadrua outside.

“Looks to me like it all worked out to me,” Savnu said. “I’m not sure how else we were going to win them over.”

“I know. I agree,” Ilton said. “But it was still reckless.”

“Can we please just ban the use of that word? I’m getting sick of hearing it.”

“You wouldn’t hear it so much if you and Icthilos didn’t act that way so often. This is exactly what I was talking about. You and him think the same, feed into each other’s rash ideas.”

“I hear you, Brother, but I’d prefer some constructive criticism,” Savnu said, slouching back against the wall. “Just telling us we’re reckless doesn’t help with anything. Give us suggestions on what we could have done differently. And if you don’t actually have any better ideas, say nothing.”

Ilton gritted his teeth… and said nothing.

“That’s better.”

“You’re right. The Staff was a good play, and got you the result we all wanted. But trying to bargain with something you didn’t even have was dangerous.”

“That sounds like a lecture for Icthilos. I had no idea what he was planning.”

“Okay, then here’s one for you. Before you and Icthilos go off find Trina, you need to get to Onu-Koro and talk some sense into your brood. Larone’s got his hooks in them, and they’re one stupid decision away from ending up on the wrong side of the Council.”

“Karzahni,” Savnu muttered. “After Vhel, I thought they were strong enough to stand on their own.”

“Or did you just not want to face them after what happened to Vhalem?” Ilton challenged. “He was the glue that held that group together. Without him, they needed you more than ever. You need to take responsibility.”

“I will.”

“Speaking of responsibility, if you’re serious about looking for Trina, I’d like you to take Sidra with you. Assuming she agrees when I ask her.”

“I’m not against it,” Savnu mused. “But why?”

“Let’s just say she’s got a lot on her mind right now. She could use a distraction. And I’m sure she’ll have skills of use in searching for a fugitive.”

“Fair enough. I’ll head to Onu-Metru. Tell Icthilos I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

Tustesh

The Unbroken party returned to Ga-Metru with a small crate and big hopes. The weather conditions in Ko-Metru hadn’t been ideal for reading up on everything they’d found, so they’d spent the night gathering it up in a storage crate, and carried it back home for Lyrami to sift through back at the Great Temple.

Greillash was waiting outside as the group approached the temple steps.

“Where have you been?” His mandibles snapped together as he spoke, a clear indication of his irritation. “We thought you’d gone to the Council meeting, but then a messenger showed up from the Coliseum asking why you were absent.”

“Exploring,” Tustesh declared. “Searching.”

“Our day of Fate draws near,” Lyrami said, her Matoran words being far more eloquent than Tustesh’s own, “We’re close.”

“Your myths mean nothing to me,” Greillash growled. “While you were away, Tuxar and I informed the troops of our next strategy. For your own safety, you and your people should remain in Ga-Metru for the next few days.”

“Share strategy?” Tustesh asked.

“No.”

“Whatever you intend, I fear it won’t work as you wish,” Lyrami said. “All you’ll do is deepen the divides between us and the rest of the city.”

“Do what you do best, Unbroken,” Greillash grumbled. “Stay out of the way.”

* * *

Pira

After her talk with Larone the previous day, Pira hadn’t left her hut. She’d spent the afternoon, night, and morning sprawled on her bedroll, her sleep restless, her waking hours spent staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t find the focus to even attempt to meditate.

She felt directionless. Ithnen was right that Larone was pushing them down a dangerous path. But Larone was right that the Odinans and other races were a danger to the Matoran. It seemed like no one else was willing to take action against them.

She couldn’t see the way forward.

“Can we talk?” Pira glanced up at the sound of Ithnen’s voice. She and Tivni were standing by the door. Pira hadn’t even heard it open.

“Is this going to be like the last talk we had?”

“Pretty much.”

“Go ahead,” Pira sighed.

“We’re leavin’.” It was Tivni who spoke. “We’ve been talkin’, and all of this… it aint for us. Larone’s just goin’ to get a lot of folks killed.”

“And if you stay you can help save some of those lives,” Pira countered, groaning as she sat up and forced her stiff limbs to move again.

“If enough of us leave, Larone won’t have the manpower to try anything else,” Ithnen countered.

“What happened to getting justice for Vhalem?” Pira asked, “For Xia?”

“I don’t see Larone doin’ anythin’ about the Vortixx,” Tivni pointed out, “He’s fixated on the Odinans even though they’re already beaten.”

“Besides, Vhalem wouldn’t want us to get hurt trying to avenge him,” Ithnen said. “He’d want us to make the most of our lives.”

“Sounds like there’s nothing I can say to change your minds,” Pira conceded. “What about Erdo? Is he ditching us as well?”

“He was Tuxar’s prisoner for a week,” it was Ithnen’s turn to sigh. “He’ll do whatever it takes to bring him down.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing. That madman killed multiple Toa and Turaga, and who knows how many Matoran.”

“I know,” Ithnen nodded. “I just- forget it. If you’re going to stay, please keep him safe.”

“Of course,” Pira said.

“That goes for you as well. Stay safe.”

And then they were gone, leaving Pira with her ever-deepening doubts.

* * *

Trina

It had taken all night, and then a few hours more, but Trina and Gorast had finally reached the Core Processor. Trina hadn’t been sure what to expect down here, but what she saw now… wasn’t it.

The Stasis Field Rahkshi were here, just as she’d expected. Dozens of them, all gathered together in a semicircle before the vast expanse of machinery that was the mind of the universe. The Rahkshi were all holding hands, the ones at either end of the formation having their empty hand raised.

Before them was a vast metallic cloud of green particles, coiled around the machinery like tendrils, all frozen in place by the haze of a stasis field, far larger than any Trina had ever seen before.

Trina stepped out of hiding and crept forward. The Rahkshi didn’t react to her presence, not even when she walked right up to the group and poked at one of them with her tonfa. The blade stopped a few centimetres short of actually touching the creatures.

The same haze surrounded them. The Rahkshi themselves were trapped in the stasis field as well.

Trina glanced at Gorast, who just shrugged.

She looked past the group of Rahkshi, towards the green cloud. Even frozen in stasis, there was something deeply unsettling about it. It hung in place like a stormcloud on the horizon, dark and foreboding.

Trina took another step forward, placing her hand on the surface of the stasis field. Though she doubted the cloud could hear her, she gave voice to the question on her mind all the same.

“What are you?”

[Nato G]

Chapter 14 – Signs Of Life

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

It’s becoming harder and harder to remain impartial in my role as Chronicler. After so many wars and woes, I yearn for the days when Matoran were their own masters.

But now our fates are bound to the whims of beings who have brought millennia of misery to our people. It’s easy to say that the past is forgiven, but it’s much harder to actually give that forgiveness.

And it’s harder still to believe that our lives wouldn’t be easier if we weren’t being forced to share this city.

* * *

Sidra

Sidra and Icthilos sat across from each other in the foyer of the Coliseum, waiting for Savnu to return so they could set off.

Icthilos hadn’t objected to Sidra coming along, just as Sidra hadn’t objected to Ilton’s suggestion. There was no arguing with his logic. Sidra had skills that would be useful in the search, and she needed something to keep her mind off her other problems.

It was hard to keep Neryx out of her head right now. She’d tried to visit her again last night, but this time Neryx had been fast asleep by the time Sidra had shown up. Even if she hadn’t been, Sidra was the one who’d wanted to talk this time. There was so much she needed to say, and no way for Neryx to hear any of it. Maybe she never would…

“I never thanked you.”

Sidra blinked, the Ko-Toa’s unexpected words pulling her back to reality. “For what?”

“For helping us. That night at the Coliseum.”

“I didn’t end up helping all that much, if you recall. I led us into a trap, got separated from everyone, then got stabbed by my lover and left for dead.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to- I should’ve just taken the thanks,” she slumped back in the chair. “I’m just not feeling like I’ve done anything lately that’s worth praising.”

“Ilton mentioned you helped defuse the situation at Ga-Metru yesterday.”

“Not well enough. I… didn’t get what I wanted out of it.”

“Does it have anything to do with the lover you mentioned?”

Sidra narrowed her eyes at the Toa. “What exactly did Ilton say to you?”

“Nothing about that,” the Toa raised his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just that most people I know would refer to someone who stabbed them as an ex-lover, or just not mention that part at all.”

“It’s complicated. I’m still… figuring things out.”

“I said the same thing to Ilton yesterday about my own relationship.”

“You’re with his Sister, right?” Sidra didn’t ordinarily care much for other people’s relationships, but any opportunity to steer the conversation away from herself was a welcome one. “That must be weird. For both of you.”

“All of this is weird. Personal relationships are a new experience for us.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” her hand drifted to her midriff, fingertips running over the ridged scar Neryx’s blade had left, “Love can be… painful.”

“Is the pain worth it?” The question was asked so quietly Sidra almost though she’d imagined it, until she saw the imploring look in the Toa’s eyes.

Sidra had been unsure about a lot of things lately, but her reply came with complete conviction.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

Pira

For the second time in the space of an hour, there was a knock at Pira’s door.

The being who entered in response to Pira’s ‘come in’, however, was not at all who she was expecting to see.

“Hey there,” Savnu said, looking and sounding far more sheepish than usual as she stepped inside.

“What are you doing here?” Pira grumbled, getting to her feet and walking over to the taller Toa. “How did you even find this place?”

“Ithnen gave me directions.”

“Wow, she wasted no time in dobbing me in to Mother.”

“She didn’t ask me to come here. I was already on my way.”

“Ah, so it was Ilton who asked you to come?”

“I came because I heard what’s been happening, and I was worri-”

“It’s a yes or no question.”  

“Yes. Ilton told me.”

“And that right there is the reason I’m not going to listen to another word you say,” Pira snapped, pointing angrily at Savnu. “You don’t get to disappear for weeks then come back and try to boss us around again as if nothing’s changed.”

“I’m not trying to boss anyone around. I just want to talk.”

“About how I’m wrong to be working with Larone, and should go back to doing things your way?”

“I reckon you don’t need me to tell you that,” Savnu shook her head. “What I will tell you is that you need to let go. Your anger and pain are the only things keeping you here.”

“Is that how you do it? Just… let go?”

“I let go of my pain, not the people. I remember my Brothers, my Sister, and the other Toa I’ve lost along the way. But I choose to remember the good times, not dwell on… how things ended.”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“What is that meant to mean?”

“You’ve lost so many people you’re desensitised to it. The Sisters and Brothers you’ve lost to war, the new Toa you made here and on Xia; your losses are statistics. But the rest of us? Some of us have never dealt with loss like that before. Especially not me. Vhalem was the first person I-”

“I’m sorry. But holding onto resentment like this isn’t what he would’ve wanted. It’s only going to hurt you.”

“I’m not hurting myself,” Pira snapped. “The Vortixx hurt me when they killed Vhalem. Ilton hurt me when he let the Council forgive their crimes. You hurt me when you ran off and left the rest of us to suffer alone.”

“Everyone grieves differently. I didn’t want to tell you how to deal with-”

“-isn’t that exactly what you’re doing now?”

“Only because of how dangerous things have gotten. Ilton told me what almost happened in Ga-Metru. I’m sorry for not being there before, but I’m here now.”

“Are you, though?” Pira challenged. “Or is this just a quick stop before you slink off back to Ko-Metru?”

“We’re not going back to Ko-Metru yet. First we’re going to-”

“I really don’t care where you’re going. Just that you are going. Running back to live your life with someone who understands your pain, while leaving the rest of us to ours.”

“So that’s what this little outburst is about?” Savnu scoffed. “You’re not angry that I wasn’t there for you. You’re angry because I found a way to be happy despite my losses, and you haven’t.”

A billowing breeze buffeted the building as air was sucked suddenly away from the street, building around Pira in a violent vortex.

“Pira…”

The wind weakened slightly, just enough for Pira’s voice to be heard. “Get out.”

Savnu nodded grimly and turned away. Before she stepped through the door Pira saw her mouth move again, but whatever was said was too soft for Pira to hear.  

* * *

Tustesh

After his conversation with Greillash, Tustesh had hurried to join Lyrami in the temple to study the material they’d brought back from the Knowledge Towers. They were close now. He was sure of it.

Alas, given his inability to read the written language of the Matoran, Tustesh was of little use. Lyrami had taken the time to show him the letters that represented the phrase “Red Star” and set him to work poring through texts and tablets in search of any mention, passing relevant ones off to Lyrami to study more closely.

As he set aside another worthless scrap of parchment, he heard the sound of stone striking stone issue from the desk behind him as Lyrami let out a soft gasp and dropped the tablet she’d been holding to the floor.

“What is it?” He asked, turning in his chair.

“This is it,” she said quietly, sinking to her knees to pick up the slab of stone. Tustesh recognised it as one that had been retrieved from a box marked with the symbol of the Red Star, a promising sign in of itself. He’d seen the phrase at least twice in the text. Evidently there was something much more meaningful among the words.

“What does it say?” He asked, rising from his chair to stand at her side.

Instead of answering, Lyrami picked up a scrap of parchment that had come paired with the tablet.

“According to this, this tablet is part of a series, a journal written by one of the Toa Nuva. When the Av-Matoran fled Karda Nui, they managed to bring this back with them.” 

“The Toa Nuva… they were the heroes of the island above, yes?”

“Yes. And this entry speaks of a telescope that existed on that island. The Toa who wrote it looked through that telescope to record the position of the Red Star.”

“What does it say?” Tustesh asked again.

“As instructed, I focused the telescope on the red star far above,” Lyrami read, running her finger along the surface of the tablet as she did so Tustesh could follow the words. “I made careful note of the location of the star in space, its angle to the planet, its brightness and whether it seemed to be moving away from the island, toward it, or remaining parallel to it. Something – I don't know what – suddenly prompted me to combine the power of my Mask of X-Ray Vision with the telescope’s ability. I focused on the red star ... and stumbled back, shocked. For I had seen inside the star, and where I expected there to be a fiery heart of energy, I instead saw ... I can hardly even carve the words on this stone ... There was something alive inside the star!”

“This has to be it.” Tears brimmed in Tustesh’s eyes as his tusks aligned in a gleeful, giddy grin. “Our Crimson City is inside their Red Star.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 15 – Stasis Quo

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

Retirement is a word rarely heard in our world.

Our Turaga have always stressed the importance of Duty, and in many Matoran settlements – especially the heavily-policed Metru Nui – there were harsh penalties for forsaking one’s assigned tasks. But barring accident or violence, we are immortal beings, and the thought of working the same role forever can be a daunting one.

In the same vein, an eternal life spent doing nothing offers no reward, and those few who’ve found a way to leave behind one line of work often find themselves drawn into another. Or, back to the one they left behind.

Though the circumstances that brought him back are far from ideal, I find myself strangely gladdened that Toa Icthilos has returned to his Duty.

* * *

Trina

“There it is again,” Trina said quietly, pointing as the stasis field flickered.

For scarcely a second, the Rahkshi and the green cloud they were containing moved, just as they had a few hours earlier, and a few hours before that. And then in the space of an eyeblink the stasis field was fully intact, those trapped within it immobile.

“What do you make of that?” She asked, glancing at Gorast.

The Rahkshi’s armoured faceplate gave away very little in the way of emotion or expression, but Trina had learned to read her reactions from her body language. And what she saw now – Gorast leaning forward, head titled slightly to the side, eyes narrowed – was curiosity.

“Efficiency,” though certainly capable of holding a full conversation, Gorast had little interest in speaking. But getting a full word like this was a big improvement over her usual monosyllabic grunts.

Trina decided to press her luck. “Efficient how?”

“Taking turns,” Gorast pointed at the circle of Rahkshi. “Working in shifts.”

“They’re… not all using their powers at the same time?” Trina guessed.

Gorast nodded.

“So the flicker we’re seeing is some of the Rahkshi resting, and others taking up the slack?”

Gorast nodded again.

It was interesting, but not especially informative. All it told her was what she already suspected: that this was likely all of the city’s Stasis Field Rahkshi, that they’d been keeping this green cloud contained for quite some time, and intended to continue doing so.

“And you’re certain that green stuff isn’t antidermis?”

It was the first question she’d asked Gorast, for obvious reasons. Trina’s initial instinct had been to wonder if Vhel had lied about destroying Makuta Teridax, that the Master Of Shadows was still alive, just waiting to be unleashed upon the Matoran once more.

But Gorast’s answer now was the same as it had been earlier.

“Not antidermis.”

“Then what is it?” Trina grumbled, not expecting to get an answer.

“A threat. One that must be contained.” Their approach concealed by a field of Silence that had just been lifted, four more Rahkshi had just entered the chamber. At their head was one Trina had come to recognise, a red-and-orange Rahkshi with a Visorak claw mounted on its chest: Precision. “Just as you must be.”

A crimson glow emanated from the Rahkshi’s eyes as it unleashed its laser vision.

* * *

Icthilos

“So, how’d it go?” Icthilos asked, getting to his feet as he saw Savnu approaching. She’d scarcely been gone for an hour, but it was the longest they’d been apart since they’d moved in together.

“Tivni and Ithnen quit of their own accord. I told them to come here and see Ilton.”

“I take it Erdo and Pira weren’t convinced.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t even try with Erdo,” Savnu sighed, “After what Tuxar put him and Lhiyla through, I know there’s nothing anyone can say or do to deter him.”

“I’m sorry,” it was Sidra who spoke, standing a few steps behind Icthilos. “I hope Larone doesn’t drag him down with him.”

“What’s Erdo to you?” Savnu asked.

“He was the one who found me after…” her hand drifted to the scar on her abdomen, “…he helped, uh, keep my insides where they were supposed to be, until I could be brought to the healers.”

“Oh,” was all Savnu said.

Icthilos chose that moment to reinsert himself into the conversation. “What of Pira?”

“Stubborn and angry.”

“Sounds like nothing’s changed, then.”

“Everything’s changed,” Savnu sighed.

The trio started heading down the corridor, towards the elevator.

“Dare I ask what Pira was angry about?” Icthilos asked.

“Us. Well me, mostly. For leaving her and the others after Vhalem’s death. For the two of us leaving everyone in general.”

Icthilos saw Sidra tense slightly at the mention of Vhalem. From what he understood, Ithnen was convinced that it was the Vortixx, not the Odinans, who’d killed Vhalem. But clearly Sidra still felt remorseful about it, and everything else her people had done.

He’d been swift to suspect her of being an enemy when they’d first met. It was desperation alone that had driven him to trust her, and the Rahkshi, on the night they’d retaken the Coliseum. Even now, he still felt tentative about trusting her; she’d turned her back on her own people, then the Dark Hunters. How long before she betrayed the Toa or the Council?

Then again… what took greater strength? Remaining loyal to a cause no matter what? Or breaking trust to try to save lives? It was a test Icthilos had never faced, and one he hoped he never would.

“Icthilos?” Savnu’s voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked, realising they’d reached the elevator. Sidra and Savnu were already inside, looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping inside. “I’m just… distracted.”

“That makes two of us,” Savnu said, pressing the button to begin their descent.

“Three,” Sidra muttered. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Down,” Icthilos said, continuing quickly to deny his companions any opportunity to make quips about him stating the obvious, “Into the tunnels below the Coliseum. The Rahkshi know more about Trina’s recent actions than any of us.”

“Is that safe?” Sidra asked.

“You scared?” Savnu teased.

“Of being ripped apart by Rahkshi? Yes.”

“Well, when you put it like that-”

“No one’s getting ripped apart,” Icthilos said firmly. “Perception will keep the others in line.” At least, he hoped so. The Rahkshi wouldn’t have asked for the Council’s help finding Trina in the tunnels if it was unsafe for whoever they sent to travel in the tunnels.

The elevator came to a stop on the ground floor. This was the same floor through which the heroes had previously infiltrated the Coliseum via the Rahkshi tunnels, but they would have to travel a little further this time to find their way underground. With the area now being open to the public once more, the tunnels there had been sealed up. The next nearest entrance to the archives was in the basement of an empty structure directly across the bridge in Ta-Metru, guarded by Vahki to ensure no Matoran accidentally blundered inside.

The foyer of the Coliseum was busy now, bustling with visitors of all hues and species. But there was one being, loitering near the door under the careful watch of a Toa guard, of a species Icthilos hadn’t expected to see. Aside from his present company, no Odinans had visited the Coliseum since the demarcation line had been drawn.

The question of who this newcomer was, was promptly answered by Sidra’s surprised gasp. “Neryx?”

* * *

Trina

Trina had gotten very good at fighting Rahkshi in recent weeks.

She danced and darted deftly between beams and blasts to swiftly close the distance, throwing herself right into the middle of the four Rahkshi. In times past, fear would have held her back from such a bold strategy, but the darkness coursing through her veins had dispelled her doubts. From their colours, she knew these four were Laser Vision, Darkness, Vacuum, and Teleportation. With room to manoeuvre and use their ranged abilities, the battle fell firmly in their favour. But up close, she robbed them of their advantages.

Even the natural night vision of other Rahkshi couldn’t pierce elemental Shadow, and the Rahkshi needed to breathe just as much as Trina did, meaning that the Darkness and Vacuum Rahkshi couldn’t make effective use of their powers when she was this close. Similarly, Precision couldn’t use their laser vision without running the risk of striking their allies, and even the Teleportation Rahkshi would have difficulty making use of their power when Trina was already surrounded.

She twisted away from the stabbing staff of the Darkness Rahkshi, then ducked under a swing from the Teleporter. The long reach of their weapons forced the other two Rahkshi to back off to avoid being struck themselves, buying Trina the room she needed to commit to a target. Her tonfa struck the staff of the Darkness Rahkshi, giving the creature an electric jolt that forced it to drop the weapon.

Gorast wasn’t complacent in the chaos. The Teleportation Rahkshi was suddenly torn away from the group, flung across the room with horrific force. It struck the far wall and stayed there, magnetised to the stone. A single sweep of Gorast’s staff caved in the carapace casing, bisecting the kraata within.  

The Darkness Rahkshi met a similar fate, Trina stepping in close and snipping its head off between her crossed blades.

But the destruction of their companions bought the remaining two Rahkshi the room they needed to unleash their powers without fear of harming their allies. A wailing wall of wind assailed Trina, flinging her back towards Gorast, who was scarpering to escape a lash of laser light. The second Trina struck the floor she felt the wind flowing back the other way as the Vacuum Rahkshi absorbed more air to build up to another blast.

“Time to go!” She called to Gorast, gesturing towards the nearest tunnel.

She raised her blade and unleashed a blast of lightning towards the two Rahkshi. It wasn’t aimed at either of them, but directly between them, as bright and blinding as she could manage.  

Trina knew that Precision, being a Shadow Kraata, had a natural resistance to light. But as she’d hoped, in the dark tunnels, even they were momentarily stunned by the sudden brightness.

Trina’s own eyes stung as she scrambled into the tunnel, Gorast collapsing the entrance behind them with a crushing blast of magnetism.

The Vo-Toa felt a momentary pang of regret as she ran. The stasis field and its mysteries would have to remain unsolved for another day.

[Nato G]

Chapter 16 – Shifting Tides

Incident Report

Disturbance detected in Le-Metru.

Civilian vessels under attack by unknown assailants. Multiple casualties reported. Unknown number still missing, feared lost at sea.

Vahki units dispatched to engage attackers have been disabled.

Toa response requested.

Remaining Vahki units have been repurposed for search and rescue operations.

* * *

Ilton

Hailing from a relatively primitive homeland, Ilton had long been sceptical of vehicular travel. Especially air travel. But now, he appreciated the convenience of it.

Only minutes had passed since word of the attack in Le-Metru had reached the Coliseum, and he was already well on his way. Travelling on foot would have taken hours, but with an airship the Toa could respond to the threat almost immediately.

He had almost a full team with him now, with Pahlil, Behjen, Bihriis, and Lhiyla having all been at the Coliseum for various reasons when the call had come in. Curiously, the latter three had been requested specifically by Desecrator in their message.

“Hopefully this goes better than the last time we were in a fight out on the ocean,” Pahlil said, nudging Ilton’s shoulder.

“You can’t say stuff like that when you were the one who tossed me in the water.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I don’t think you actually did.”

“Oh. I-”

“Anyone else seeing this?” It was Bihriis who spoke, from her spot by the window.

The Ce-Toa had been more soft-spoken and reserved since the Makuta’s defeat. There was a divide between her and the others that no amount of goodwill or comradery seemed able to bridge. She had questions, and no one was willing or able to answer them. And clearly her fear outweighed her curiosity, as she hadn’t simply read anyone’s mind or breached the blocks in her own to get the information she wanted.

Ilton himself didn’t even have the full picture of what had happened. All he knew was what Savnu had told him, that Icthilos had coerced Bihriis into blocking some of her own memories. He had no idea what might happen if they were restored. In the minds of many, Bihriis was a ticking time bomb who could turn against them at any moment.

Ilton had higher hopes. He joined her by the window, gazing out across the cityscape in search of whatever she was referring to. They were already over the heart of Le-Metru, the arena that had been built over the Moto-Hub flitting by below. But Bihriis’ eyes were cast towards the horizon, and when Ilton looked that way he saw plumes of smoke rising from the wreckage of several vessels out on the bay.

And he saw something else, too, something he struggled to make sense of for several long moments. A half-dozen massive, misshapen blobs of white dotted the bay, larger than the stricken ships, but flat and featureless.

“What are those things?” Pahlil asked, joining them at the window.

“Icebergs,” Ilton said, grim memories of one of his most gruelling battles resurfacing for the first time in centuries. “Iceberg ships.”

Centuries ago, he and Icthilos had combined the full force of both of their teams to repel a fleet of such ships from invading the shores of the Northern Continent. There was no forgetting or mistaking the sight of them, nor the memory of the creatures that occupied them.

Frostelus.

* * *

Sidra

Her companions and mission were forgotten in an instant as Sidra rushed over to Neryx, stopping just short of embracing her as she suddenly recalled where they were. “What are you doing here?” She demanded, shrouding herself once more in armour of anger.  

“We need to talk.”

“You’ve used that line already.”

“I mean it. You were right.”

“You’ve also used that one.”

“I- you came? The other night? I wasn’t sure if-”

“I heard it,” Sidra’s voice softened, “All of it.”

“It might help if you let her finish a sentence,” Savnu interrupted, appearing at Sidra’s side. Icthilos was a few steps behind. “She risked imprisonment by coming here. Whatever she has to say must be important.” Seeing that more senior Toa were now involving themselves, the guards who’d been watching Neryx slipped away to resume their regular duties.

“Right, sorry,” Sidra simpered.

“It’s Greillash. And Tuxar. They told us this morning what their plan is,” Neryx said. “I don’t want any part in it. A lot of us don’t.”

“You’re not alone?” Sidra felt elation well within her.

“A few dozen more are hiding out nearby, waiting for my word that it’s safe,” Neryx smiled. “What you said yesterday… it got through to people. They just needed a push, and Greillash gave it.”

“What is Greillash planning?” Icthilos asked.

“Poison. Tuxar’s been brewing up toxic plants for weeks, building up a stockpile. Greillash plans to poison the next water shipment, along with every other fresh water source in the city.”

“Aside from Ga-Metru itself?” Savnu asked.

“Exactly. Anyone who doesn’t die will be completely dependent on Ga-Metru.”

“This is Tuxar’s plan, isn’t it?” Sidra asked.

She knew Greillash. He was proud of his position as general, prizing prowess in physical combat above all else. He was a commander who led from the front, the first to charge into every battle. Hiding behind walls while his enemies died to poison wasn’t a strategy he would ever devise. But the fact that he’d agreed to it spoke to how desperate he’d become.

“Yes,” Neryx nodded.

“Does it matter whose plan it is?” Savnu snapped. “The Council needs to know.”

“It matters to us,” Sidra said. “I’ll take her.”

“Are you sure your judgement is-” Icthilos started to ask.

“Don’t go there,” Sidra warned. “I can handle Neryx.”

“That scar would say otherwise.”

Out the corner of her eye, Sidra saw Neryx slump in response to the comment. Her expression was one of shame, and Sidra felt something twist inside her at the sight of it.

“You worry about your friend, I’ll worry about mine,” Sidra said, her voice softening, “Good luck.”

“Same to you,” Savnu said, pulling Icthilos alongside her as she headed for the door.

“Friend?” Neryx asked quietly.

“Not here,” Sidra said quietly, looking Neryx over to make sure she was unarmed, before leading her towards the elevator. “Come on.”

* * *

Trina

Trina and Gorast emerged into daylight for the first time in weeks.

The Vo-Toa raised a hand to shield her aching eyes, blinking through pained tears to try to figure out where the tunnel had led out. The soft lapping of water greeted her ears, and Trina soon recognised the shapes and colours of greenhouses.

“Where are we?” Gorast asked.

“The worst place we possibly could be,” Trina breathed, “Or maybe the best.”  

It would all depend on how the denizens of Ga-Metru reacted to finding a rogue Toa in their midst.

[Nato G]

Chapter 17 – The Cult Of Krom

 

From the ravings of The Recorder.

Our eyes were fixed to the future when we fled to Metru Nui.

We hoped, foolishly, that those we fled from would not follow. But now they have come. All in Le-Metru can see their ships waiting in the bay, though those of us who have faced these beings in the past know this is only a fraction of their fleet.

The vessels belong to the Frostelus, but they aren’t the only beings to be found aboard them. The followers of the First Flesh are made up of outcasts and abominations of all kinds, hailing from the most far-flung, forsaken corners of the universe.

If their collective have a name for themselves, it is unknown to us.

But we call them the Cult Of Krom.

* * *

Sidra

“So where are we-” Neryx never got to finish the question.

The instant the elevator door closed Sidra whirled around and pulled her into an embrace. She hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even been sure if she wanted it. But in that brief, beautiful moment she was holding Neryx in her arms again, their conflicted history and her own warring emotions forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, breaking away. “This isn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, least of all you.”

“I’m the one who should be apologising,” Neryx wrung her hands, shirking away into the nearest corner of the elevator. “I hurt you.”

“No,” Sidra shook her head. “I lied to you, I kept things from you, and I let you get close knowing I was going to let you down. I deserve everything you did to me.”

Every being in Sidra’s life would have chastised her in that moment. Ilton would have warned her that forgiveness had to be earned, Lariska would be lecturing her on how she could never be safe with someone who’d tried to take her life, and even a voice Sidra recognised as her own was telling her she was being too quick to trust Neryx again.

None of it changed how she felt. Though its inhabitants were nigh-immortal, life in this universe was far too short to squander. “But I don’t deserve you.”

“I hate that you kept all of this from me,” Neryx clutched one of Sidra’s hands in her own, holding onto it as if it were a treasured keepsake, “But I don’t hate you. I understand why you did it. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the two women quickly pulled away from each other as the doors creaked open. A passing Skakdi glanced their way momentarily, appearing surprised at the sight of two Odinans in the building, but continued on his way without a word.

“So, what next?” Neryx asked.

“We talk to Ilton. He can get us in front of the Council.”

“I meant… about us?”

“I think-” Sidra sighed. There were so many things she wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time or the place for it. “-I’m sorry. There are lives at risk. That conversation needs to wait.”

* * *

Ilton

Desecrator was waiting for the Toa on the beaches of Le-Metru when their airship landed. At his side, as always, was Muhlene, and behind him stood his two four-armed bodyguards, Urkungon and Sahnor (though he’d learned their names, Ilton was still unsure which one was which). Also with them was a white-and-brown Po-Skakdi he recognised as Narkhek, who’d led the Skakdi contingent of the Last League. Evidently Narkhek still held some position of power, even under Desecrator’s current rule.

Dozens more Skakdi waited further down the beach, armed and angry, with more arriving with each passing moment. Clearly Desecrator had been quick to put out the call to arms.

“Thank you for your quick arrival,” Desecrator said, not bothering with a more formal greeting.

“It seems like you’ve got ample manpower to deal with a few Frostelus,” Ilton said, “Why did you ask for us? For Lhiyla and Bihriis specifically?”

“You’ve faced Skakdi in the past. You know how we fight,” Narkhek said. “Defence and caution are not strategies we often use, but they are necessary here.”

“It’s not mere Frostelus we will face on those ships,” Muhlene said.  

“You think this is the same enemy you’ve spoken of at past Council meetings?” Ilton asked, “The beings who worship Tren Krom?”

“We do,” Desecrator nodded. “Their forces consist of Frostelus, Hordika mutants, former prisoners of the Pit… and Zyglak. Some of the cultists we’ve encountered in the past possessed powerful disintegration powers and psionic abilities, which they claimed were gifts from their god.”

“Which is why you wanted a Ce-Toa and Masks Of Shielding,” Ilton realised. “You know this enemy better than we do. What do you recommend?”

“I fear this is just the vanguard for a far larger fleet, here to test our mettle and learn of our defences,” Desecrator explained, “That’s why they’ve held position instead of pressing on to the shore. They want us to counterattack and show them what we’re capable of.”

“In close combat, the ‘gifted’ ones will likely try to read our thoughts and learn more about the city’s defences,” Narkhek added, “We were hoping your Ce-Toa could direct our Ce-Skakdi in shielding us from mental intrusion.”   

“I can do that,” Bihriis said.

“What about the rest of us?” Ilton asked.

“Many of those beings can survive in the water, so there’s no point in trying to sink their ships,” Desecrator said. “We’ve got a group of Ga-Skakdi ready to send them back out through the Sea Gate. We’ll need your help to re-seal it.”

“Will that matter if they have the disintegration abilities you just mentioned?” Pahlil asked. “Sealing the gate certainly didn’t stop your lot from blasting their way through.”

“It’s not about them. It’s about who they follow,” Desecrator pointed out towards the docks, its ancient protodermis pillars encrusted with coral and seaweed. “Look there. The water level has dropped almost a bio in the time since we first saw the iceberg ships.”

“I don’t get it,” Ilton admitted.

“You would have noticed it when you first returned to this dome, just as we did when we entered it. The water level outside the Metru Nui dome is lower than it is inside. This universe lies at an angle, and the seas are gradually draining away.”

Ilton nodded. He recalled the difference in water level when the Toa had first returned through the Sea Gate, though he hadn’t thought it significant until now. But he understood the significance this time. During the original Great Cataclysm the universe had been below the ocean level of the world beyond. This time, it seemed, it was partially above the waterline, and the seas inside were leaking out through a breach somewhere to the south. And if that was true, then…

“I once heard that Tren Krom is imprisoned on an island,” Ilton said, “Fused to it. But if the water level is dropping, then that island-”

“His prison is his empire,” Desecrator said, their mingled voices strangely subdued. “We didn’t understand it when we first heard those words. Now we do.”

“So if the water drains away an ancient monster we really don’t want to meet is going to come up and say hi?” Pahlil grimaced. “Just when we thought the apocalypse was over.”

“You’ve heard what we’re up against,” Ilton turned to the group of Toa. “It’s your choice whether or not to be part of this fight.”

He knew how they would all answer, of course. But it felt good to be able to ask. Between Teridax’s rule, the battle for Xia, and the retaking of Metru Nui, it felt like forever since Toa had truly had a choice in where and when to fight.

“We’re with you,” Pahlil was the only one to speak, but the determined nods from the other three were answer enough.

Ilton turned back to Desecrator. “Where do you need us?”

* * *

Icthilos

As Icthilos had hoped, he and Savnu met with no opposition as they descended into the tunnels. There seemed to be very few Rahkshi around in this area of the Archives, and the few that Icthilos did see stayed far from the illumination of the lightstone lamp Icthilos held aloft.

It was the same one Trina had given him, restored by Ilton’s Kanohi Kiril after it had been damaged during his last encounter with Trina. The sight of it hadn’t done anything to sway Trina last time, but he still harboured hopes that he could get through to her, somehow.

As the two Toa rounded another corner, they found a lone Rahkshi waiting for them. Though the creatures more or less looked alike, Icthilos suspected that this was one he knew. It was a Rahkshi of Teleportation, blue and green in colour, with a staff that was broken off at one end. It was the same Rahkshi that had been waiting inside the Coliseum the night the Toa had infiltrated it.

The Rahkshi made no sound, simply making a beckoning gesture with its hand.

[Nato G]

Chapter 18 – The Choice

From the notes of Chronicler Crisda.

I used to have such respect for the Toa.

Their care and their code made them heroes, virtuous idols whose ideals the Matoran could aspire to. And that was all well and good during times of peace.

But there’s no denying that we’re still in a time of war, even now. A war where the Toa’s unwillingness to fight their enemy is putting lives at risk. Many believe that Tuxar and the Odinans should have been captured or killed after the Makuta’s defeat. Instead, the Toa relaxed and the Matoran celebrated, and our enemies consolidated themselves in Ga-Metru.

And even now, the Toa refuse to cross into the region and root out the enemy, despite the untold hundreds of Matoran who remain trapped under oppressive rule. More and more, I fear the demarcation line is protecting the enemy from us, instead of the other way around.

* * *

Icthilos

The silent Teleportation Rahkshi led the two Toa deeper down into the tunnel network, through a narrow, winding path that clearly hadn’t been an original part of the Archives. The new passage looked to have been melted through the rock, a clear sign of Rahkshi handiwork.

An acrid burning stench soon filled the air as the two Toa were guided down what was clearly a newly-created side passage, as evidenced by the fresh scorch marks and still-sizzling shards scattered on the floor. Savnu was unbothered as she walked across the scalding stone, absorbing the heat from it as she passed to ease Icthilos’ progress.

The melted tunnel soon opened up into one of the wider corridors of the archives. One end of the tunnel led off into the distant darkness, while the other was partially blocked by fresh rubble. It was by the blockage that three Rahkshi stood, seemingly waiting for the two Toa.

Icthilos knew these three for certain. The purple-and-black one was Perception, the red-and-orange was Precision, and the blue-and-yellow one was Patience. The three ruling Shadow Kraata of Metru Nui.

“Thank you for leading them here. You may depart,” Perception nodded to the Teleportation Rahkshi, who promptly vanished.

“You clearly seem to trust that one,” Icthilos noted. “I’m guessing it’s old, powerful. Pretty close to becoming like you three?”

“Our advancement is random and unpredictable,” Perception answered, “Only the Makuta knew for certain which kraata could ascend to full sapience. But yes, we are hopeful that one has the potential to join our ranks.”

“Enough pleasantries,” Perception cut in, “You come seeking the fallen Vo-Toa?”

“I reckon she’s been here recently,” Savnu pointed towards the rubble.

“Yes,” Perception’s faceplates clacked together with a metallic clang as they spoke the word. “She and the rogue Rahkshi slew two of our own, and fled up this tunnel. Our scouts followed until sunlight stopped them.”

“So she’s on the surface?”

“Yes,” Perception said, “In Ga-Metru.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Savnu grumbled.

“One you had best find a way to resolve,” Precision replied, “Before we do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Icthilos asked.

“My sibling intends to gather a group of Weather Control Rahkshi to block the sunlight, allowing our forces to enter Ga-Metru and retrieve the fugitives themselves,” Perception answered. “I won’t prevent them, but I would prefer to avoid the bloodshed that might follow such an intrusion.”

“I take it you weren’t a fan of getting the Council involved?” Icthilos asked Precision.

“Your delays have cost time and lives,” Precision snarled. “Instead of dealing with the problem you made a bargain to spare their lives.”

“Will you still honour that bargain?” Savnu asked. Icthilos noted one of her hands inching towards the blades sheathed at her side, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by the Mind Reader in the room.

“Regardless of who finds her first, the Toa’s life will be spared,” Perception said firmly, speaking more to Precision than to the Toa.

“But our people will defend themselves,” Precision added.

“It would be better to wait,” the third Rahkshi, Patience, spoke for the first time. Their blue-and-yellow colouration identified them as a Rahkshi of Slow, and their way of speaking was exactly that. Each syllable was spoken sedately, each word chosen with great consideration. “Let these Toa retrieve their lost companion. If they fail, then send your forces.”

“If they fail, more Rahkshi will be at risk,” Precision snapped; this was clearly a conversation that had already been had. “They have until I arrive to sort this out themselves.”

With that, the Laser Vision Rahkshi stepped away from the group and headed up the same scorched tunnel the Toa had arrived through.

“Let’s get going, then,” Savnu said, holding her arm out to Icthilos.

“Good luck, Toa,” Perception said.

Icthilos took Savnu’s arm and she activated her Kakama, whisking them away down the tunnel.

* * *

Sidra

It had taken only a few minutes of searching and asking around for Sidra to discover that Ilton had left the Coliseum by airship while she’d been downstairs, responding to some incident in Le-Metru.

Given the importance of Neryx’s news, there was no sense waiting around for Ilton to return. Which meant that Sidra needed to speak to someone else on the Council to organise a meeting. Unfortunately, there was only one other Council member in the building who she knew would give her the time of day. Someone she’d been avoiding for weeks, until yesterday.

“What’s wrong?” Neryx asked, recognising Sidra’s terse expression.

“Stay behind me,” was all Sidra said, as she stepped up to knock on the door of Lariska’s office.

Sidra heard the steely scrape of a dagger being drawn as the door cracked open.

“Skirmisher,” Lariska grinned, opening the door the rest of the way, “To what do I owe- ah.”

Without a further word, the leader of the Dark Hunters stepped back and gestured for the two Odinans to entered, closing the door behind them. The room was a far cry from the official office space Sidra had been expecting, with target dummies lined up against one side wall, and a rack of knives and daggers hanging from the other. In the centre of the room was a battered wooden table, its surface scored by scratch marks from what looked to be many, many times Lariska had stabbed a knife into it out of frustration or boredom.

“Looks like I won’t be needing this,” Lariska muttered, sheathing her blade as she sat down behind the desk, swinging her legs up to rest atop it. “This had better be good.”

“The opposite,” Sidra nodded to Neryx.

“I have information for the Council,” Neryx said, “Tuxar and Greillash are planning an attack.”

“And I assume you’ll be wanting something in return?” Lariska asked boredly.

“Amnesty. For myself, and anyone else who willingly switches sides.”

“Sounds like an easy way to get spies into the city.”

“We know you have a Kanohi Rode,” Neryx pointed out.

“Not to mention a bunch of beings with psionic abilities,” Sidra added.

“Fine,” Lariska conceded, “Anything else?”

“Fair representation,” Neryx said. “We want a seat on the Council.”

Sidra glanced at Neryx. “You didn’t mention-”

“The Council works because we have an odd number of members, ensuring there can never be a tied vote,” Lariska replied, “We’d have to remove someone, or add another faction alongside yours.”

“If the Unbroken are complicit in this attack, then Tustesh won’t be needing his seat,” Sidra suggested. “It’d just be a matter of deciding on who should represent them.”

“Oh, Skirmisher,” Lariska chuckled, shaking her head.

Sidra realised then that Neryx was looking at her.

“Me?” Sidra sputtered, “You can’t be- I’m not cut out for-”

“Of course you are. You had our interests at heart more than Greillash or Talok ever did.”

“They’ll never trust me.”

“They will, if-”

“Save it for later,” Lariska interjected, gesturing to Neryx, “You wait outside. I need to have a word with Skirmisher, in private.”

Neryx hesitated for a moment, until Sidra gave her a reassuring nod.

“When we spoke last, you said you were afraid I was coming after you,” Lariska said. She lowered her legs and sat forward in the chair. “Why?”

“Because I left you all. Because the Shadowed One always eliminated those who betrayed-”

“You didn’t betray us, though,” Lariska cut her off. “You completed your assigned mission, and then you left to help the Toa win the war. Your actions helped save all of us: Matoran, League, and Dark Hunter.”

“I-”

“I understand why you left,” Lariska tutted, “I always told you your emotions are a liability in our line of work, but I can respect a warrior who stands by her principles. You kept your word, and in our world our word is everything.”

“You’re not going to punish me?”

“I’m not like him,” Lariska said, looking at her own mechanical arm as if she was seeing it for the first time, “Fear is a useful tool, but it doesn’t have to be the only one we use. Your slight was a small one, and you’ve already suffered enough for it.”  

“So where does that leave us?”

“It leaves you with a choice, though I suspect you’ve already made it. Are you Skirmisher, or Sidra?”

Sidra had been surprised at every step of the conversation, but the question caught her more off-guard than everything that had preceded it. It was a question she’d asked herself more than a few times since returning to her homeland after her time with the Dark Hunters. For weeks at a time she’d fully immersed herself in her daily life, forgetting the mission and her new master. But little reminders would always arise eventually.

“Why not both?” Sidra asked.

“Skirmisher works for me,” Lariska answered, “Sidra works in the best interests of her own people. For now, those two things align, but that might change someday, so I need you to decide now.”

There was no hesitation in the answer.

“Sidra.”

“I thought as much,” Lariska sprung to her feet. “Come on. You have a Council meeting to attend.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 19 – Decisions

From the records of Turaga Rost (archived after his death).

Politics have always bored me.

When I first became a Turaga, I was the only one in our village. My Destiny was already fulfilled, but it was only after our previous Turaga passed away from an illness that I gave up my power and allowed myself to transform. He was ancient and ailing, long before his death. The last thing he needed in his final years was a young upstart challenging his authority.

I had no intention of challenging him, but the mere presence of another Turaga would have been challenge enough. Matoran who didn’t get the permission or information they wanted from him would have turned to me. Even back then, I understood the value of having a singular vision in positions of power.

Which is why I’ve always abhorred this Council of Turaga, with their endless bickering and butting of heads. They hail from so many different lands, each harbouring their own warped worldviews, each clinging to pasts that can never be recovered, and pining for futures that will never live up to their expectations. And all the while, they neglect the needs and necessities of the present.

How much simpler things would be if one person were making all of the decisions. It doesn’t need to be me. But it needs to be someone.

* * *

Ilton

For the second time in recent memory, a battlefleet of air and sea vessels raced across the Sea of Protodermis. But this time, they were sailing away from Metru Nui, not towards it. At the head of the fleet was Desecrator’s massive command ship, its deck covered in dozens of blue beings; Ga and Ce Skakdi, along with Bihriis and Lhiyla.

Ilton and the remaining Toa were back on the same airship that had brought them to Le-Metru, keeping pace with the lead ship. The rest of the fleet were spaced out around the lead vessel, their occupants keeping eyes and weapons aimed towards the ocean. The survivors of the initial attack had reported being assailed from below by aquatic beings – likely the Zyglak and former Pit Prisoners – so everyone was more wary than usual of the water.

The six iceberg vessels were drawing near, close enough that Ilton could make out individual figures clambering about aboard them. The multi-limbed creatures charging dual rhotuka launchers were clearly Frostelus, and the large reptilian monsters diving overboard into the water were Zyglak, but the other beings were far harder to identify.

For the first time in a long time, Ilton had no idea what he was about to face. In the past year he’d fought Vortixx, Skakdi, Vahki, and Rahkshi, but they were all known quantities. Aside from unique Vortixx rhotuka abilities and the rare tertiary powers some Skakdi possessed, Ilton knew what to expect from every foe he’d faced in the last two years. But the beings waiting below were mutants and monsters, most of them armed with crude weaponry, some of them immune to elemental powers, and many of them likely harbouring obscure, unfamiliar abilities.

He looked to Pahlil, recognising the same concern on her face as he felt now.

Toa of Magnetism and Iron were normally the most powerful beings on any battlefield. Here, they would be near-useless. Especially against the Zyglak.

The ships drew within firing range and vast volleys of beams and blasts flashed through the air between the two fleets, a kaleidoscope of colours reflecting wildly off the waves. Monstrous figures launched themselves up out of the ocean and onto the decks of the seaborne vessels, brandishing brutal blades.

Ilton readied his launcher as he bellowed his order: “Bring us in!”

* * *

Sidra

Sidra had watched plenty of Council meetings in her time, though this was the first time she was attending in-person. The cast of Councillors was a little smaller than usual this time, with Ilton, Tustesh, Muhlene, and Desecrator all being absent for various reasons. Everyone else had managed to attend, though not all of them looked happy about it.

No one bothered with formalities this time.

“I know you like being here even less than most of us,” Nomar said to Lariska, “So I trust you have good reason to summon us all here? And for bringing them?” She pointed at Neryx and Sidra.

“Sidra is a trusted friend, without whom none of us would be here,” Lariska replied warily, “I don’t need to justify her presence here.”

“And the other?”

“Neryx. Sidra vouches for her. She’s seeking asylum, and claims to have information about goings-on in Ga-Metru.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

Sidra offered Neryx a reassuring nod as she stood, looking like she suddenly wanting to be anywhere but this room.

“This morning Tuxar and Greillash announced their plans to attack the rest of this city,” Neryx said. “Tuxar has been growing toxic plants. They intend to poison the next shipment of water they distribute, and dispatch agents to do the same to all of the fresh water supplies outside of Ga-Metru. Those who don’t die will be easily conquered, and reliant on Ga-Metru for water.”

“How would they accomplish this?”

“Our people can wear Kanohi, just like most of the other beings here. Agents wearing Hunas and Volitaks have already scouted out most of the water sources. The poisoning itself is planned for early tomorrow morning, to coincide with the next shipment.”

“We can deploy operatives wearing Masks Of Detection to protect the water,” Gharkelos suggested.

“We don’t have any,” Lariska reminded him. “Some of the Skakdi can see through invisibility, though. We should speak with Desecrator once they’re done with… whatever it is they’re doing.”

“Tuxar also has Matoran who’ve been swayed to his side,” Nadrua spoke up. “They could walk right in without the need for Kanohi.”

“Then we need to have guards posted at all of the water sources, checking everyone who comes through,” Nomar said. “To Karzahni with the inconvenience.”

“You have my people,” Gharkelos said.

“And mine,” chittered Karturuhk.

“And my Hunters,” Lariska added.

A few faces looked expectantly at Lhuhamaka, but she made no move to offer assistance. She instead asked, “How do we know this isn’t a ploy to divert our forces away from a direct attack?”

“We just volunteered a bunch of beings who spend most of their days spinning webs and beating each other up in an arena,” Lariska pointed out. “No one said anything about diverting the Toa or Vahki from their usual patrols.”  

“Indeed. We can’t afford to take that risk,” Nomar agreed. She looked back to Neryx, “I suppose you’ll be wanting something in return for this warning?”

“Amnesty for me, the others who left Ga-Metru with me this morning, and anyone else who surrenders peacefully-”

“Provided they’re not wanted for other crimes, that would be acceptable,” Nomar interjected.

“-and a seat of our own on the Council, with Sidra as our representative.”

“I never agreed to-” Sidra started to protest. She’d been so caught up with everything else that had been happening that she’d almost managed to forget that detail.

“The Council has an odd number of members,” Nomar said, “Such a thing would require-”

“We already had that conversation,” Lariska spoke up, “If the Unbroken are aware of this poisoning plan – and Tustesh’s absence suggests they are – then I’d argue that their complicity would be grounds to remove them from the Council.”

“Tustesh barely takes part anyway,” Gharkelos remarked.

“Very well,” Nomar nodded. “I think we can at least vote on the amnesty now. The decision about representation can wait until after we’ve heard Tustesh’s side of this story. Those in favour of granting asylum to the Odinans?”

Three hands and one appendage rose up around the room, almost none of which were the ones Sidra had been expecting to see. Lariska, Karturuhk, Gharkelos, and the Rahkshi Perception – who’d been silent throughout the meeting so far – had all voted their support.

Sidra had expected Lhuhamaka to block them, given the recent attack in Ta-Metru, and her status as the self-appointed voice of opposition. But Sidra hadn’t anticipated Turaga Nadrua nor Nomar herself to vote against.

Still, four was enough for the vote to pass.

“Very well,” Nomar said, “It appears the-”

“Not so fast,” Lhuhamaka protested, “We can’t make a decision with a third of our number absent. Tustesh would obviously vote against this farce.”

“Surely he would vote in favour, if this is indeed a ploy to infiltrate us,” Gharkelos sneered.

“Tustesh’s status as a member of this Council is in doubt,” Nomar said.

“If we’re assigning intent to absent parties, then obviously Toa Ilton would also have voted in favour,” Sidra spoke up, with a pointed glare towards Nadrua.

“Desecrator and Muhlene would vote together,” Lhuhamaka protested. “They wouldn’t stand for allowing the Odinans to integrate with the rest of the population.”

“You’re seriously arguing that the founder of the Last League would vote against cooperation between species?” Lariska scoffed. “The same being who made the deal with Sidra to capture the Odinans peacefully in the first place? A deal that you broke, by the way.”

“The vote passes,” Nomar said flatly.

“Alright, since we’re all on the same side now, tell us what you know of the attack that occurred in our Metru,” Lhuhamaka jabbed a crooked claw in Neryx’s direction. “Or do you deny that your people carried it out.”

“Greillash was responsible for that attack,” Neryx said. “Along with Aadra and Phidras. They wanted to stop the production of new Vahki to ease their takeover. Robots can’t be poisoned.”

“The Vahki already identified who, and I don’t really care about why. I want to know how?” Lhuhamaka said. “They had to have had inside information to pull off that attack. Who’s the leak?”

“From what I heard, they bribed a Matoran for information.”

“Which Matoran?”

“I don’t have a name, and I only saw him once. He was a Po-Matoran, with big hands and a mask I didn’t recognise.”

“That tells us very little.”

“That’s all I know.”

“Fine. I’ll ask them myself,” Lhuhamaka grumbled.

“What is that meant to mean?” Nomar asked.

“It means that I’m marching my forces into Ga-Metru and dragging Greillash out in chains,” Lhuhamaka growled. “Why waste time stationing our forces at every spring and fountain in the city? The best way to protect the water is to arrest those planning the attack, and seize their poison.”

“We have a treaty-”

“I’m not asking for your permission, Nomar. I’m telling you what’s happening. They broke your treaty when they attacked my factory. And they were planning to break it again. I’m not waiting around to see their third attempt.”

“How is this any different to what Larone just tried to do?” Lariska pointed out.

“The difference is that we have proof now, and I have the numbers and the firepower to succeed.” The Vortixx looked to Neryx. “You best round up anyone who’s switching sides now. Any Odinan we see holding a weapon will be considered an enemy combatant, and treated accordingly.”

With that, she stormed out of the room.

Nomar looked to Neryx and Sidra, her expression apologetic. “You should get going.”

[Nato G]

Chapter 20 – No Safe Haven

From the ravings of The Recorder.

I’ve been the Recorder for so many millennia that I’ve long since forgotten what I was before. I no longer wonder about who I was, or where I came from. I just worry about where I’m going.

The League came to Metru Nui to leave war behind. But it was waiting for us, and it has followed us. So many of those beings – the Dark Hunters, the Skakdi, the Steltians, the Vortixx – lived lives of war and violence. Perhaps it was foolish of them to believe they could ever leave those lives behind.

As for me… I’ve been complicit in crimes beyond count, putting them in the record and doing nothing to prevent them. Whatever fate awaits the others, I don’t doubt for a moment that I deserve to share in it.

* * *

Trina

“Welcome!” Toa Tuxar jeered, as Trina and Gorast were ushered into the overgrown chamber of the Great Temple that he’d made his throne room. “I never thought I’d see another Toa here again. Least of all you.”

On either side of Tuxar stood an Odinan, one clad in red-and-black, the other in white. Despite the fresh burn scars adorning her body, Trina recognised the pale one immediately. Her long, bony claws had inflicted the stab wound that still troubled Trina even now.

Behind Trina were the four Matoran guards who’d escorted her into the room.

Foolishly, two of them still held Gorast and Trina’s weapons.

The floor was shrouded in a knee-high blanket of plantlife, and as Trina came to a stop she felt vines entangle her angles, likely intended to hamper her ability to flee. Of course, they wouldn’t be much bother if she really wanted to escape. Gorast and Trina both possessed the power to kill everyone in the room in the space of an eyeblink.

“Given your… condition, and the fact that you didn’t come in here lightning bolts blazing like last time, I assume you want something?” Tuxar asked, leaning back in his throne. Plants throughout the room shuffled and rustled in reaction to his movements, and on closer inspection Trina realised that the chair wasn’t mere furniture. The wood was lush and alive, anchored to all of the other plants by roots and branches.

“Asylum, from those that hunt us,” Trina answered.

“Why would I get involved in your troubles?” Tuxar scoffed, “I’d be better served handing you over and earning some favour for it.”

“Our enemies are your enemies,” Gorast answered.

“By your own admission, you have no other Toa,” Trina added. “Certainly none like me.”

“You oversell yourself. I bested you once before, and you look far worse for wear now.”

“I’ve changed. I’ve lost my… limitations.”

“Is that so?”

Trina snapped her fingers, and one of the Matoran toppled over, dead, every spark of electricity having dissipated from their body in an instant. The remaining Matoran stepped forward, weapons raised, but Tuxar waved them off. Instead of concern, Trina saw curiosity on his face. He leaned forward, smiling slightly.

“I could have done the same to you the instant I entered this room,” Trina said. She waved her hand in the direction of the fallen Matoran and they lurched back to life with a sputtering gasp, electrical energy filling their form once more.

“You’ve got my attention. Let’s talk.”

* * *

Icthilos

In hindsight, using a Kakama to run through unfamiliar tunnels with only a single shaky lantern for light had not been one of Savnu’s better ideas. After a few collisions going around tight corners they’d abandoned speed and continued on foot, Icthilos’ lamp illuminating things more clearly now that they were moving at a more reasonable speed.

“You alright?” Savnu bumped his shoulder. “You’re being more quiet than usual.”

“Trina called it brooding,” he replied absently.

“She’s not wrong. So, what are you brooding about this time?”

“Her. You. Me.”

“I was always kind of afraid to ask. Were you and her…?”

“No. Not like we are, at least,” Icthilos looked at the lamp in his hands. “There was something she said, when we last saw her. That she lost her hope the day our Brothers and Sister died, and propping me up was all she had left.”

“She didn’t mean it. That was the Shadow talking.”

“That’s what I said at the time, but now… I don’t know,” he sighed. “Losing our team changed us both. I threw myself into battle, and she threw herself behind me, and-”

He stumbled suddenly as his foot hit a hole in the rocky floor. He fell forward and landed heavily on his bad knee, gritting his teeth to hold back a groan.

“I’ve got you,” Savnu said gently, helping him over to the side of the tunnel to sit down against the wall. She leaned down and placed her hands on the knee, channelling the tiniest trickle of Toa Power into the limb to ease his pain.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” he remarked, feeling the ache abate as she withdrew her hands.

“Lhiyla showed me how,” she said, sitting down beside him. “A lot of folks needed healing, those first few days after the battle, and I’ve had plenty of experience with making Toa Stones. This doesn’t feel too different. I’m trying not to do it too much, though. Between the Toa Stones and the healing I don’t know how much Toa Power I have left to give.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you becoming all puny and decrepit.”

Once, centuries ago, becoming a Turaga had been something Icthilos had aspired to. But somewhere along the way the idea of being physically diminished and relinquishing his power had lost its appeal.

“Puny?” Savnu scoffed. “Rost beat both of us. If it wasn’t for Trina…”

“If it wasn’t for Trina,” he repeated numbly.

“What were you saying about her before?”

“That Shadow or not, I think she was telling the truth. Trina was always there for me, on Xia, after we got back… but I can’t remember the last time she did anything for herself. I… think she blames me. Hates me.”

“Even after her infection she was trying to help you,” Savnu protested. “That’s love, not hate.”

“What’s the difference, really?” Icthilos asked.

“They’re complete opposites.”

“No, they’re not,” he found his gaze drawn to the lamp again, the light making his eyes water. “Apathy is the opposite. Love and hate are the same thing. An emotional attraction, an obsession… blurring… burning…”

“You need to lay off the bula berries,” Savnu tugged the lamp from his grasp. “Once we cure Trina, the three of us can figure this out.”

Icthilos blinked his bleary eyes, looking at Savnu. He still wasn’t used to having her at his side like this. Right where Trina used to be. “Do you hate me?” He asked, so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d spoken the words out loud until he saw the incredulous look on her face.

“No. Why would- how could you even think that?”

“You chose me over Orane. That cost you… him and Keidal.”

“Wow,” Savnu scowled, getting to her feet, “Are you trying to push me away?”

“I got my Brothers killed. I got yours killed. And Widrek’s, and-”

“You’re not to blame for every person who’s ever died on your watch,” Savnu reached down and pulled him to his feet, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. “You and me, we’re the ones everyone else blames. Your leadership, my Toa Stones, all of it. Which means we can’t afford to blame ourselves as well. We can remember the ones we’ve lost without letting them drag us down.”

“But I-”

“But nothing.”

“Thank you,” Icthilos nodded numbly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she let him go and stepped back. “I’m not Trina, okay? I’m not going to dig you out of every emotional rut you fling yourself into. If you want your counsellor back, we have to find her first.”

* * *

Ilton

Everything had gone to Karzahni, and in record time.

Within seconds of battle being joined, some kind of weight-increasing Rhotuka had brought the airship crashing down into the sea. Pahlil had used her powers to levitate herself, Ilton, and Behjen onto one of the iceberg ships, though the Vahki pilot hadn’t been so lucky.

The aquatic combatants had managed to take control over some of the League ships, steering them in between the flagship and the Frostelus fleet, preventing Desecrator’s Ga-Skakdi from simply washing them all away with one massive wave as originally planned. Even if the Skakdi managed to retake their ships, Ilton and his companions were now right in the firing line.

Rhotuka of all kinds and colours splashed against Behjen’s Hau shield as the crew of the iceberg ship assailed the three Toa who had landed in their midst. Ilton and Pahlil focused their powers on whatever weapons or mechanical components they could find, slowing and repelling the attackers. It worked well against the Frostelus, and even most of the Pit Prisoners still had some kind of metal within their bodies. But the Toa’s powers did nothing at all to the titanic white figure who was stalking across the ice towards them.

Ilton had seen a Zyglak only once before, but the one he’d encountered was nothing like the monster that stood before him now. Like scavenger rahi scattering from a predator’s approach, the other cultists gave the pale Zyglak a wide berth, abandoning their attacks and backing well away.

The Zyglak stood head and shoulders taller than the one Ilton had previously encountered, it’s bleached-white body encrusted with a bony carapace. Its left arm ended in hooked talons the size of shortswords, and the right arm was just… wrong. There was no carapace, no scaly skin, just a rippling mass of red muscle, twisted tendrils of flesh tangled together in a shape that only vaguely resembled an arm. Smaller tendrils jutted out of the carapace all down the Zyglak’s side, grasping greedily at the empty air.

“I am Stralgok,” the creature’s voice was harsh and raspy, the ‘S’ sound at the start of its name coming through as a drawn-out hiss, a tic that continued in the Zyglak’s next words. “Emissary of Tren Krom. Why do you stand against us, Toa?”

“You started it,” Pahlil blurted out.

“You’re more right than you realise. We serve he who existed before spirits and shadows, before vices and virtues, before this death and darkness. We serve he who offers us all deliverance.”

“Deliverance?” Against his better judgement, Ilton decided to take the bait. In his thousands of years as a Toa, he’d learned that villains loved a good lecture. Every second this creature was talking was a second the others weren’t shooting. “What deliverance?”

“This universe began as one of order, but it has descended into madness and misery,” despite his bestial appearance and hoarse voice, Stralgok spoke with the practiced eloquence of a Turaga preacher. “We have all been judged, and the sentence is death. Only those who serve will find a place in the new world Tren Krom will assemble from the ashes of this one.”

“Tren Krom has been imprisoned since the time before time,” Ilton made no effort to keep the mockery from his voice. “Who is he to decide the fate of this universe?”

“He is this universe,” Stralgok snarled. “It’s substance, it’s mind and memory. Before Mata Nui first opened his eyes it was Tren Krom who provided light and life. He is the firstborn of the Great Beings, the mind-child of the dream-eater, the First Flesh. He has a greater claim to godhood than Mata Nui or the Makuta ever did.”

Pahlil looked to Ilton. She said nothing, but her expression was one he recognised all too well: what’s the plan?

He shrugged.

“Decide now, Toa,” Stralgok reached out with his mutated arm, the crimson meat sloughing away at the tip of one of the tendrils to reveal an oversized, bloodshot eye, crackling with sickly yellow light. “Serve, or suffer.”