Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta II, Chapter Ten & Epilogue

CHAPTER TEN

    The morning screech of a Lava Hawk heralded the return of Garan and his company. Matoran villagers rushed out of their homes and cheered as their leader and friends strode into the village. Elrisa was the first to greet them, beaming broadly.

    "Thank Mata Nui you're back!" the Vo-Matoran exclaimed. "We'd feared the worst. Where have you been?"

    Garan smiled. "It's a long story. I'll--"

    "Where's Dasan?"

    All of the euphoria was sapped away by those words, spoken by the Bo-Matoran Oren. All eyes fell on Garan as his expression darkened.

    "He's been exiled," he murmured.

    "Why?" asked Zaedra.

    The Onu-Matoran sighed. "Like I said, it's a long story. Follow me to the village center; all will be explained."

*  *  *

    "You keep saying that but I still don't think you're telling me everything."

    The once and former King Mathus stared defiantly into the eyes of his interrogator, Trinuma. "What more do you want to know?"

    The Tirivon's eyes narrowed behind his crimson mask. "Why has the Hand of Artakha been reformed? Were you behind it?"

    "I was," the Turaga said. "I had met up with a few former members such as Drandora and Fortaan and we all agreed to reform the Hand. We started out on one of the Southern Islands, away from your Order's notice."

    "When was this?"

    "Around the time of the Great Disruption, during the Matoran Civil War."

    Trinuma crossed his arms. "And Mallake? You knew he was going to return?"

    Mathus nodded. "I had a vision in which he did."

    "A vision." Trinuma sounded disbelieving. "I see. So where were the Hand planning to go when they acquired the Kanohi Olmak?"

    "The initial plan was to transport our castle to anywhere in the universe, but it seems to me that Mallake has had a change in plans."

    "So where are they now?"

    "I do not know for sure." A small smile crossed the Turaga's ebony mask. "But I have my theories."

    Trinuma leaned forward menacingly. "I'm all ears."

    "Think about it. The Hand of Artakha. Where would the ideal place to go be?"

    Trinuma's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "Impossible. Anyone who knew the Great Refuge's location was... eliminated, and all of the maps destroyed."

    Mathus sneered at him. "Barbarians, the whole lot of you. But Mallake knows, I'm sure."

    "Impossible," Trinuma repeated. "If he had known, we would have executed him as well."

    "But how would you have known?" the Turaga cooed. "Are you as omnipresent as the Great Spirit himself? Do you have eyes on every last Matoran, Toa, Turaga, and Makuta in the universe? I don't imagine so."

    Trinuma stared at him, eyes blazing as different emotions warred within him. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left the interrogation room, leaving the Turaga alone in the dark.

*  *  *

    Balta walked along the Voya Nui Bay, watching the waves crash as the sun set behind the horizon. Garan's "story session" had taken longer than expected, with nearly everyone spouting questions. Things then began to escalate when Kazi tried to beat up Oren for "selling" him and the others out. It took nearly five Matoran to restrain him.

    In the end, however, things were back to normal. Garan had purposely left out some of the darker details so as to not frighten the villagers, as well as any specific details relating to Axonn and his comrades. If anything, his tale would become little more than a myth that would either be recounted for years to come, or simply fade into obscurity.

    "Balta!"

    Broken from his thoughts, the Ta-Matoran turned to see Dalu running up to him, a broad smile on her face. It was rather rare to see the Ga-Matoran this happy, given how her time in Karzahni and Voya Nui had hardened her.

    "Oh, hey," Balta said when she reached him. "What's going on?"

    "Not much. I just stopped Kazi from attacking Oren again. That Ko-Matoran's got quite the temper today."

    Balta chuckled. "And they say my kind is temperamental." He then looked around, seeing that everything was still and quiet, with no one around. Moments like these were rare on Voya Nui.

    Rubbing the back of his head, he said, "Um, is there something you need?"

    She smiled. "I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life."

    Balta blinked. "Um, sure you did. You even hugged me."

    "I know, but...." Dalu looked down at her feet as she shifted them. "I feel that I should give you a better reward."

    "'Better reward?' What are you--" The Ta-Matoran ceased speaking when Dalu stepped closer to him and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

    He stepped away from her, gazing at the Ga-Matoran in wonder. She simply smiled at him before turning around and skipping back to the village.

    As Balta stood there in bemusement, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. He turned around to see Velika standing there, a wistful look on his mask as always.

    Balta cleared his throat. "How... long have you been standing there?"

    "Not very," the Po-Matoran replied.

    Balta glanced in the direction Dalu had went. "Did you see...?"

    Velika chuckled. "Your secret shall be hidden from even the Great Spirit's eyes."

    Balta smiled. "Thanks."

    He then trotted off after Dalu. Had he looked back, he would have seen Velika writing something down on a small slab of stone....

EPILOGUE

    "We're home."

    Stepping out of the dimensional gate, the members of the Hand of Artakha took in their new surroundings. They stood on a mountaintop with a scenic view of the Silver Sea. However, the terrain below was anything but panoramic: razor-sharp crystals littered the mountain slopes; lava erupted from nearby volcanoes; acid cascaded like waterfalls in the distance.

    After taking in the chaotic view, Banteras said, "Where are we?"

    "The Tren Krom Peninsula," Mallake said. "This shall be the site of our new headquarters."

    "Why here?" growled a black-clad Skakdi. "Zakaz or even Xia would have been a better location."

    Mallake directed everyone's attention westward, where lightning struck on the horizon. "Several kios from here is the island known as Artakha, the Great Refuge."

    "So?" Fortaan muttered. "What of it?"

    The tiniest hint of a smile appeared on Mallake's rusted mask. "Once we have amassed a large enough army, we are going to send them to Artakha and take over the island."

    Murmurs of surprise and excitement broke out among his followers. Only Banteras remained stoic. "And where are we going to find such an army?"

    "My accomplice can answer that."

    Suddenly, materializing before the Hand members was a tall, lanky figure. Clad in black and white armor with scarlet accents, he carried a pair of double-edged blades, as razor-like as the crystals down below. Red eyes glowed behind his narrow mask.

    "This is Makuta Krika," Mallake introduced the newcomer to his followers. "If you wish to see our victory through to the end, then you shall obey his orders. If you wish to live long enough to enjoy that victory, then you shall respect him as you do me."

    Pride and greed burned in the ancient being's eyes.

    "Now then, let's get to work. We have an empire to build."

TO BE CONTINUED