Yay, two chapters in one day.
CHAPTER FIVE
100,000 years ago
“Where are they? Where have you sent them?”“Karzahni. They will find much happiness in Karzahni.”
Toa Lesovikk stared at the blabbering mess in front of him. Once, not so long ago, he had seen Turaga Orlan as one of if not the wisest being in the universe. Always ready with a few words of wisdom to impart on the Matoran of Kangaro, Orlan was someone many had looked up to, including Lesovikk. To see him like this, muttering incoherent nonsense, was a surreal sight. Having already lost his teammates and now his friends, Lesovikk was ready to wake up from this bad dream.
But it wasn’t a dream. No matter how much he wished it so, the scene was not going to change.
Shock and grief were washed away by a sudden wave of anger. Clenching his fists, Lesovikk stormed over to Orlan and grabbed him by his ceremonial robes, hoisting him to his feet. He stared into the eyes behind the Turaga’s brown Mask of Telekinesis, searching for a shred of sanity.
“Why did you do it?” the Toa of Air growled.
The Turaga threw his head back and laughed. Lesovikk’s rage only increased as he started to shake the elder.
“WHY DID YOU DO IT?!”
Laughter was his only response. It echoed all around the hut they were in, ringing in Lesovikk’s ears.
He threw Orlan to the ground, looking down at him with anger and disgust. Still the Turaga laughed, as if this was all some big joke he had pulled off.
Realizing that he was not going to get anything from the elder, Lesovikk turned and stormed out of the hut. The mad Turaga’s cackling followed him all the way to the shore. He could still hear it in the distance even as he boarded his boat and set off into the Silver Sea.
Present day
“Let’s see… what mask would best suit you?”
Takua sat slumped against the wall of a dark chamber, too weak to move. A few feet away, his blue Kanohi Pakari laid shattered on the ground, having been stepped on by Karzahni after the mad tyrant had forcibly removed it from Takua’s face. Already he could feel his energy quickly slipping away, threatening to throw him into a deep coma.
“Ah! Here we go.”
Just as darkness began to envelop his vision, Takua felt something fall over his face, filling him with energy once more. He looked up to see Karzahni standing over him, regarding him with the look of a proud craftsman.
“There. Now your new life can begin.”
Takua ran a hand over his new mask, feeling its sharp edges. It was not a design he recognized; it certainly wasn’t something Vakama or Nuhrii would have made. Whatever type of mask it was, it didn’t at all feel right on his face. Whereas his original mask felt like a natural part of his body (even though it never really fit properly), this one felt like an obstruction. His body screamed for him to take it off, but he knew doing so would only upset Karzahni and more than likely earn him a swift death. He would have to grin and bear it if he wanted to find a way off this cursed island.
First, however, he would need to rescue the Rahaga (and the Toa Metru, if they were still alive). To do that, he would have to wait until Karzahni wasn’t paying any attention to him....
“Now then, off to work with you,” Karzahni said, opening a door that led back out into the hellish landscape. “The forges require attendance. Go.”
Figuring that the best tactic for now was to feign obedience, Takua dutifully marched out of the chamber. He could feel Karzahni’s gaze on him as he made his way towards an open forge, where dozens of Matoran were hard at work. The moment he picked up a hammer, he heard the door slam and turned to see that Karzahni was gone. Knowing it would be foolish to make a move now, he joined the other Matoran and began striking his hammer against a piece of heated metal.
Not paying much attention to whatever he was making, Takua spared a moment to regard his coworkers. The one standing next to him was a green Le-Matoran with a strange mask and haunted red eyes. Their movements seemed almost robotic as they repeatedly banged their tool against metal. Never once did they stop to gather their strength or do anything other than the task at hand. It was as if they were trapped in an eternal loop, doomed to work for the rest of their lives.
Takua grimaced as he realized that that was most likely the idea. For all he knew, these Matoran could have been here for thousands of years.
He cleared his throat, hoping to get the Le-Matoran to stop and look up at him. This did nothing, so Takua decided to speak up instead. “So, what’s your name?”
The Le-Matoran glanced at him for the briefest of seconds but just as quickly returned to work, remaining silent. Takua frowned and looked over at the others. He was surprised to see the one that had “greeted” him and the Rahaga earlier among them, hard at work as all of the others were.
“Hey, you!” Takua called over to him.
The strange Matoran affixed his shadowed eyes upon him, his expression unreadable as ever. “Don’t speak,” he said in a deadly whisper. “Just work.”
“I never got your name. You do have a name, don’t you?”
“Don’t speak. Just work.”
Takua was starting to grow impatient. What had Karzahni done to these Matoran to reduce them to such a state?
“This is ridiculous,” he said, making sure he was loud enough to be heard over the clanking of metal. “No Matoran should be forced to live like this. Why would a Turaga send anyone to a horrible place like this?”
“Quiet,” the Matoran with the haunted mask said. “He will hear you.”
“Good! Let him hear me. It’s about time someone finally spoke up and gave him a piece of their mind.”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” murmured the other Matoran. “It won’t end well for you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Takua said.
“Yes, we shall.”
A hand grabbed Takua by the shoulder and turned him around, bringing him face-to-face with Karzahni. The green and purple tyrant glared down at him, a nasty scowl on his hideous mask. It flashed with energy and Takua was sent spiraling into another world.
Metru Nui laid in ruins. The Coliseum, once the proud centerpiece of the City of Legends, had been reduced to rubble.
Matoran mindlessly marched to the orders of Makuta and his Rahkshi enforcers. Vahki patrolled every corner of each Metru, ensuring that its denizens were hard at work.
The Toa and Turaga were all dead. Anyone who dared to defy Makuta were granted the same fate. Jaller, Hewkii, Nokama… they tried to resist, but were killed for their efforts. Their bodies were taken to the furnaces of Ta-Metru and melted down for raw materials.
The rest of the universe was no better off. The Brotherhood of Makuta were in complete dominance of the universe, turning it into a world of darkness.
Prayers to the Great Spirit went unanswered. No one, not even Mata Nui, could save them now.
The vision ended as soon as it had began. Takua stumbled back, nearly falling into the forge. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t real; that it was just a trick Karzahni was pulling on him.
But the very prospect of what he had just witnessed had sufficiently chilled him. The fire of defiance that he had felt just minutes ago had been extinguished, leaving an empty feeling of dread in its place.
Karzahni grinned sadistically. “Now that you have been properly disciplined, perhaps now you would like to return to work.”
It wasn’t so much a suggestion as it was an order. Takua’s body seemed to act on its own as he picked up his hammer again and turned back to the forge. The fires of the furnace danced as a chilly breeze passed over them.
In the distance, he heard the screech of a Rahi beast. It sounded not unlike the Manas crabs that had assailed him and the others earlier, except it sounded as if it was in pain.
Karzahni went still as he listened to these sounds, which were already becoming louder and more numerous. His eyes roamed the landscape of his realm as he scanned it with his mind. The wind started to pick up, causing his cape to billow behind him.
There were new arrivals to his land, Karzahni could tell. Yet none of them were Matoran.
Takua looked up to see a tornado raging across the land of Karzahni, carrying dozens of Manas crabs in its throes. As the Rahi were thrown in various directions, the tornado tore through the buildings and sculptures that dominated the land, reducing them to rubble. As the vortex continued its rampage, a green-armored figure descended from it and landed atop Karzahni’s fortress. At first, Takua thought it was Toa Orkahm, but the figure’s mask and armor were unlike any he had seen before. As the Toa of Air brandished a silver blade, his red eyes flashed behind his lime-green mask, regarding Karzahni with a look of utter hatred.
“Karzahni,” the Toa cried, his voice as loud as the raging tornado. “You will pay for what you have done.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” Karzahni replied, sounding genuinely perplexed.
“You will.”
With that, Toa Lesovikk jumped from the top of the fortress and prepared to deliver his vengeance.
Takua sat slumped against the wall of a dark chamber, too weak to move. A few feet away, his blue Kanohi Pakari laid shattered on the ground, having been stepped on by Karzahni after the mad tyrant had forcibly removed it from Takua’s face. Already he could feel his energy quickly slipping away, threatening to throw him into a deep coma.
“Ah! Here we go.”
Just as darkness began to envelop his vision, Takua felt something fall over his face, filling him with energy once more. He looked up to see Karzahni standing over him, regarding him with the look of a proud craftsman.
“There. Now your new life can begin.”
Takua ran a hand over his new mask, feeling its sharp edges. It was not a design he recognized; it certainly wasn’t something Vakama or Nuhrii would have made. Whatever type of mask it was, it didn’t at all feel right on his face. Whereas his original mask felt like a natural part of his body (even though it never really fit properly), this one felt like an obstruction. His body screamed for him to take it off, but he knew doing so would only upset Karzahni and more than likely earn him a swift death. He would have to grin and bear it if he wanted to find a way off this cursed island.
First, however, he would need to rescue the Rahaga (and the Toa Metru, if they were still alive). To do that, he would have to wait until Karzahni wasn’t paying any attention to him....
“Now then, off to work with you,” Karzahni said, opening a door that led back out into the hellish landscape. “The forges require attendance. Go.”
Figuring that the best tactic for now was to feign obedience, Takua dutifully marched out of the chamber. He could feel Karzahni’s gaze on him as he made his way towards an open forge, where dozens of Matoran were hard at work. The moment he picked up a hammer, he heard the door slam and turned to see that Karzahni was gone. Knowing it would be foolish to make a move now, he joined the other Matoran and began striking his hammer against a piece of heated metal.
Not paying much attention to whatever he was making, Takua spared a moment to regard his coworkers. The one standing next to him was a green Le-Matoran with a strange mask and haunted red eyes. Their movements seemed almost robotic as they repeatedly banged their tool against metal. Never once did they stop to gather their strength or do anything other than the task at hand. It was as if they were trapped in an eternal loop, doomed to work for the rest of their lives.
Takua grimaced as he realized that that was most likely the idea. For all he knew, these Matoran could have been here for thousands of years.
He cleared his throat, hoping to get the Le-Matoran to stop and look up at him. This did nothing, so Takua decided to speak up instead. “So, what’s your name?”
The Le-Matoran glanced at him for the briefest of seconds but just as quickly returned to work, remaining silent. Takua frowned and looked over at the others. He was surprised to see the one that had “greeted” him and the Rahaga earlier among them, hard at work as all of the others were.
“Hey, you!” Takua called over to him.
The strange Matoran affixed his shadowed eyes upon him, his expression unreadable as ever. “Don’t speak,” he said in a deadly whisper. “Just work.”
“I never got your name. You do have a name, don’t you?”
“Don’t speak. Just work.”
Takua was starting to grow impatient. What had Karzahni done to these Matoran to reduce them to such a state?
“This is ridiculous,” he said, making sure he was loud enough to be heard over the clanking of metal. “No Matoran should be forced to live like this. Why would a Turaga send anyone to a horrible place like this?”
“Quiet,” the Matoran with the haunted mask said. “He will hear you.”
“Good! Let him hear me. It’s about time someone finally spoke up and gave him a piece of their mind.”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” murmured the other Matoran. “It won’t end well for you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Takua said.
“Yes, we shall.”
A hand grabbed Takua by the shoulder and turned him around, bringing him face-to-face with Karzahni. The green and purple tyrant glared down at him, a nasty scowl on his hideous mask. It flashed with energy and Takua was sent spiraling into another world.
Metru Nui laid in ruins. The Coliseum, once the proud centerpiece of the City of Legends, had been reduced to rubble.
Matoran mindlessly marched to the orders of Makuta and his Rahkshi enforcers. Vahki patrolled every corner of each Metru, ensuring that its denizens were hard at work.
The Toa and Turaga were all dead. Anyone who dared to defy Makuta were granted the same fate. Jaller, Hewkii, Nokama… they tried to resist, but were killed for their efforts. Their bodies were taken to the furnaces of Ta-Metru and melted down for raw materials.
The rest of the universe was no better off. The Brotherhood of Makuta were in complete dominance of the universe, turning it into a world of darkness.
Prayers to the Great Spirit went unanswered. No one, not even Mata Nui, could save them now.
The vision ended as soon as it had began. Takua stumbled back, nearly falling into the forge. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t real; that it was just a trick Karzahni was pulling on him.
But the very prospect of what he had just witnessed had sufficiently chilled him. The fire of defiance that he had felt just minutes ago had been extinguished, leaving an empty feeling of dread in its place.
Karzahni grinned sadistically. “Now that you have been properly disciplined, perhaps now you would like to return to work.”
It wasn’t so much a suggestion as it was an order. Takua’s body seemed to act on its own as he picked up his hammer again and turned back to the forge. The fires of the furnace danced as a chilly breeze passed over them.
In the distance, he heard the screech of a Rahi beast. It sounded not unlike the Manas crabs that had assailed him and the others earlier, except it sounded as if it was in pain.
Karzahni went still as he listened to these sounds, which were already becoming louder and more numerous. His eyes roamed the landscape of his realm as he scanned it with his mind. The wind started to pick up, causing his cape to billow behind him.
There were new arrivals to his land, Karzahni could tell. Yet none of them were Matoran.
Takua looked up to see a tornado raging across the land of Karzahni, carrying dozens of Manas crabs in its throes. As the Rahi were thrown in various directions, the tornado tore through the buildings and sculptures that dominated the land, reducing them to rubble. As the vortex continued its rampage, a green-armored figure descended from it and landed atop Karzahni’s fortress. At first, Takua thought it was Toa Orkahm, but the figure’s mask and armor were unlike any he had seen before. As the Toa of Air brandished a silver blade, his red eyes flashed behind his lime-green mask, regarding Karzahni with a look of utter hatred.
“Karzahni,” the Toa cried, his voice as loud as the raging tornado. “You will pay for what you have done.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” Karzahni replied, sounding genuinely perplexed.
“You will.”
With that, Toa Lesovikk jumped from the top of the fortress and prepared to deliver his vengeance.
No comments:
Post a Comment