CHAPTER FOUR
--Daxia--
"So. You're the survivor."
Lesovikk turned away briefly from packing the Toa Tenebrae's boat with supplies to glance at one of his new teammates. He had not taken the time yet to learn each member's names, preferring to take the time to know them first. The one he was speaking to now was a purple and black Toa of Gravity, wearing an ebony mask of a design he did not recognize.
"Yes," he muttered, returning to his work. "I am."
The Toa of Gravity seated himself on a nearby crate and studied Lesovikk carefully. "As a Matoran, I was a bit of a historian-- a self-proclaimed Chronicler, if you would. I traveled from island to island, looking for information on famous heroes like the Toa Valmai and the Toa Dagor. But the one that always eluded me... were the Toa Cordak."
Lesovikk snorted. "You wouldn't have found much. We lasted no longer than half a year before we were slaughtered by Zyglak."
"But you held the distinction of being the first Toa team ever assembled. That's a Protosteel mine for historical facts! Like, how did you first meet? Who gave you your Toa stones? How well did you work together?"
Lesovikk sighed. "It's a subject I'm not comfortable talking about."
The other Toa's face fell. "Oh. Okay. No problem. I... I understand. I'm sorry if I hit a nerve, I was just--"
"It's fine. Go join the others; we'll be setting off soon."
The Toa of Gravity nodded silently as he left to board the ship. Lesovikk then picked up the crate he had been sitting on and loaded it onto their vessel.
* * *
"You shouldn't have bothered him like that, Arctur."
The violet-armored Toa sighed as he sat down next to two of his teammates, one a Toa of Psionics, the other one of Plasma. "I know, Zaria, I know. I guess I just wasn't thinking straight."
The Toa of Iron across from him smirked. "You never do."
"I take it you two have worked together before?" asked a Lightning Toa sitting next to Zaria.
Arctur opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the Psionics Toa. "Yes, they worked together on a Toa team that operated at Xia."
Arctur scowled at him. "Nice mind reading powers. Now do me a favor and keep out of my head."
"Well, since we're gonna be stuck here on this stupid mission, we might as well take the time to know each other." The Toa of Lightning leaned forward in her seat. "My name is Chiara. The Makuta have put a price on my head for killing fifty of their Visorak."
"Arctur. Looted from Vortixx and sold their items on the black market."
"Seldaan," the Toa of Plasma said. "Killed a Skakdi for murdering the Turaga of my homeland."
"Zaria. I killed a Makuta."
The others stared at the Toa of Iron incredulously, though the Psionics Toa looked considerably less surprised.
"Seriously?" Chiara said. "How did you manage to do that?"
"Well, they're pretty much all armor, so I just used my powers and... yeah." Zaria coughed awkwardly. "Now you know why there aren't too many Toa of Iron in the universe; the Makuta aren't all too fond of them."
"Wow," Arctur murmured. "I never knew that about you." Clearing his throat, he then turned to the Toa of Psionics. "And you, mind reader?"
The gold and blue warrior shifted in his seat. "Orde. I... agitated some Zyglak and... made them angrier than usual."
"Ooh, better not let our leader hear about that," Seldaan chuckled. "You know how he is about Zyglak--"
"Shut up." Orde nudged him hard with his elbow. "He's right behind us."
"How can you--" Seldaan turned around and looked up. His expression fell when he saw Lesovikk standing over him. "Oh."
The Toa of Air glared down at him but said nothing as he stepped onto the boat. Standing at the bow, he turned to address his new team.
"You all know who I am," he said. "Lesovikk, leader of the Toa Cordak and their sole surviving member. I don't know who any of you are-- yet, anyway-- but I'd rather not waste time with introductions. We have a tyrant to capture, and you must know that he is insane and evil and will not be an easy target--"
"We know," Orde said dryly. "Or at least, I know. I'm pretty sure everyone else does, too."
Lesovikk massaged his forehead. "Whatever. Let's just go."
This is going to be a long journey....
--Tren Krom Peninsula--
"The messenger has arrived."
Flanked by Fortaan and Banteras, Mallake stepped out of the mountain cave that served as the Hand of Artakha's base of operations. In the sky above was a large bird-like Rahi with mighty wings. In the clutches of its talons was a black and white Matoran of a hideous design, holding a stone tablet.
Once the Nivawk had dropped the Matoran off before the gathered Hand members, he walked up to Mallake, shaking nervously.
"Um, greetings, Lord Mallake. I am, er, Kanan, messenger of Makuta Krika."
Mallake glared down at him. "I was expecting Krika himself to come."
Kanan cleared his throat. "Yes, well, he's rather busy and it can be difficult for him to spare the time to personally visit you-- even more so since he's not really supposed to be in contact with--"
"Enough," Mallake interjected. "What news have you brought to us?"
"The... the Brotherhood of Makuta are sending their forces to Artakha. Makuta Krika tells me that they've found a tablet that leads to the Great Refuge--"
Mallake's eyes flared and he was suddenly holding the Matoran by the neck, lifting him up from the ground. "Where did they find it?" he snarled.
"Akk! Here... on the Peninsula, in a-- in a De-Matoran... village!"
"That would explain the ships I spotted on my scout mission earlier," said Banteras. "They were already headed for the mainland when I reached them. They left behind quite a few corpses...."
Mallake's grip lessened as he released Kanan, but his anger did not. "One of the villagers there must have betrayed his trust."
"Er... beg your pardon, my liege?" Kanan said meekly.
Mallake dismissed him with a sharp wave of the hand. "Run back to your master. You are no longer needed here."
Kanan hastily bowed before returning to his Nivawk ride. As the Rahi bird flew off with the Matoran, Mallake turned to address his subordinates.
"Prepare whatever vessels we have. We're making a premature visit to the Great Refuge."
--Destral--
"Transportation is successful, master. We have arrived."
"Excellent." Makuta Tridax waved off his Shadow Matoran servant as he stepped out of the Brotherhood fortress.
Off the coast of Destral, he could spot the island of Artakha, surpassing the Makuta homeland in size and technology. Whereas Destral had a more industrial look to it, Artakha was more streamlined and efficient, mirroring Metru Nui in terms of architecture.
Redirecting his attention to the Rahkshi and Visorak awaiting forces, Tridax allowed himself a cruel smirk as he spread his arms.
"Let the invasion... begin!"
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