CHAPTER FOUR
"We should have brought Kongu along," Hewkii muttered as he observed the vast jungle of Bota Magna. "Actually, we should've brought any Toa of Air or Plant Life..."
"Well, we have Gresh," Kiina replied. "I think that's more than enough."
Jaller stepped off of the dune chariot and moved ahead of the group. Looking around, he could see nothing but several large, towering trees and hanging vines. If the missing Av-Matoran were here, it would take forever to find them.
"Johmak, do you thing you could scout ahead?" Jaller asked the black-armored Order of Mata Nui agent.
Johmak nodded and shattered herself into a million crystalline shards, flying like a swarm of insects through the jungle. The others waited a few minutes for her to return, and soon enough, the black crystals reassembled themselves before Jaller.
"There's a cave up ahead," Johmak told the Toa of Fire. "I'm not sure what's in it, but I felt a faint aura of energy around it. The Matoran could be in there."
Jaller nodded. "Lead the way."
The Toa, Glatorian, and Triunuma followed Johmak through the jungle, cutting through vines that got in their way. When they finally reached the cave, Jaller immediately felt the aura of energy Johmak had mentioned. He signaled for the others to stop. Igniting a small fire in his hand, Jaller slowly and cautiously stepped towards the mouth of the cave.
Inside, it seemed to be completely dark, as if a Makuta had died in it, and his elemental Shadow powers had lingered on.
Sure makes me wish we brought Takanuva along, Jaller thought.
However, the moment he stepped into the cave, the fire in his hand immediately went out. A chilly wind passed over him. He suddenly felt as if he was cut off from the world, as if Hewkii, Johmak, and the others were no longer there.
A quiet, raspy voice filled the air, like the cave itself was speaking. "Who...and what...are you?"
Jaller tried to speak, but an invisible tendril wrapped around his neck, choking him. The voice chuckled dryly as the Toa of Fire felt himself raised off the ground.
"I recognize the material," the voice hissed. "Protodermis, yes...you are one of our...creations."
Jaller's eyes widened, but he quickly closed them so that they didn't pop out. A Great Being, he thought. I'm in the presence of a Great Being....
The voice laughed again. "That you are," it said. "You know, I was wondering when I would see another of your kind again..."
As the tendril pulled Jaller further into the cave, he suddenly felt his mask begin to twitch.
"Ten years ago," the Great Being went on, "I was visited by eight beings from your universe. As they debated on whether to free me from my prison, I decided to provoke one of them - Miserix, I think his name was. I managed to get him angry enough to severe my living chains. My friend Vezon was then able to teleport me away."
Vezon? The name echoed bitterly in Jaller's head. He remembered the half-Skakdi well, as he had been an obstacle in the Toa Inika's quest for the Mask of Life. And last time he heard, Vezon was an accomplice of the mad Great Being Helryx and the others encountered.
"Now then," the Great Being said. "What brings you here?"
The tendrils lessened their grip to allow Jaller to speak. "We're in search of several Matoran of Light who disappeared," the Toa of Fire said. "We came here to Bota Magna because we thought you were behind it."
"Me?" The Great Being sounded offended. "Why would I harm my own creations?"
When Jaller did not answer, the mad Great Being laughed once more. "While I am certainly not the one who captured these Matoran, I do have an...idea on who did."
Jaller looked into the cave's shadows curiously. "Who then> And how would you know?"
"The latter question, I will chose not to answer. As for the first..." An eerie silence briefly filled the air. "As for the first, I have heard the name of a being who has been up to something very suspicious. His name, I believe, is Valdek."
* * *
In any society, it would have been considered pathetic to see a large, empowering figure trudge through the Wastelands, and collapse to the ground, partially burying themselves into the sand.
But Tuma no longer saw himself as empowering, especially after losing to a mere Glatorian warrior before the eyes of his very own tribe. For this, he was shamed and exiled by the Skrall to the Wastelandse, where he had since been living for a decade now.
He could not bear it anymore. After living in a cave for so long, with very little food or water, it was best to just end it here and now, and let the sand take him away.
"That's not a very good way to die, you know," a voice suddenly said.
Tuma looked up to see a small, Agori-like being, clad in armor the same color as the sand he stood on, and a black, oval-shaped mask.
The former Skrall leader scowled at the stranger. "Spare me your opinion, runt," he growled. "I wish to die in peace."
The stranger let out a sharp laugh, one which made Tuma cringe. "You won't be dying today, I'm afraid. You're needed."
"Needed?" Tuma spat. "Since when? I've been exiled by my own kind! I've been shamed by them! All because I lost to that fancy Glatorian!"
The stranger smirked. "That is pretty sad. Pathetic even. In fact, if I were anyone else, I would just leave you here to rot."
To Tuma surprise, the being held out a small hand. "But believe it or not, you are indeed needed. So it is best that you come with me."
Tuma looked at the hand with contempt. "And if I refuse?"
The stranger shrugged. "Then we'll both die, because I was ordered to find you, and if I returned empty-handed, my master would kill me."
Tuma contemplated the offer. Was it better to die here? Or to go to a group of beings where, just maybe, they would respect him, and perhaps restore his former glory?
Soon, the former ruler of the Skrall rose out of the sand. The stranger smirked. "Guess all of those years as a trader paid off."
"I have no idea what that's supposed to mean," Tuma growled. "Would it be...inappropriate to ask for your name?"
"Not at all," the stranger said, still wearing his smirk. "My name is Ahkmou."
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