Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIV, Prologue

PROLOGUE 

From the words of Kup of Tesarus, dated Cycle 9816

Starting the story is always the hardest, isn’t it? Because the first thing most people ask is: How did you get here?

Now, I’m no stranger to stories. In fact, I love telling them. But with most of them, it’s easy to set up the scene. Usually it’s when I’m on deployment on some bizarre alien world, or trying to enjoy my second retirement, or whipping turbo-revving punks into shape at the Academy.

But this isn’t like any of those. The way this story starts, I’d have to start way back; way past the point of anyone caring. 

Instead, I’ll just start you off with this: I was floating in space with Guzzle — yes, I’m talking about the monster outside — when we were picked up by this ship. I didn’t get a good look at it, since the tractor beam was so bright, but I could tell it wasn’t a standard-issue Cybertronian ship. More like an amalgamation of different kinds.

We were soon brought on board and apprehended by a group of mean-looking bots. They weren’t Decepticons, but they also weren’t Autobots. They all had a black symbol crudely painted over their original faction insignia, or at least where one would normally be. It wasn’t a design I recognized, and believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of faction symbols over the course of my life. This meant they were a new group of some sort.

Guzzle, of course, he put up a fight and they had to knock him out with some kind of destabilizing device. Me, I didn’t resist and so they saw it safe enough to bring me to their captain.

Soon as I was brought onto the bridge, I was greeted with a hearty welcome. “Well, if it isn’t the legendary Kup himself!”

There he was, sitting all relaxed on his command chair. Big and bluish-green, with an equally blue face. Definitely had some modifications done to himself. He just screamed as someone who would modify their body to keep themselves on top. I knew right away from his sleazy smile that I was not going to like him.

“And just what was someone like you doing floating out in space?” he asked me.

“What’s it to ya, ‘Con?” I didn’t actually know if he was a Decepticon or not. He sure felt like one to me.

“Oh, I’m no Decepticon,” he replied. “None of us go by any faction, at least not anymore. We’re just mercenaries trying to make a living in the galaxy.”

I looked around the room. Sure enough, I saw some former Autobots there that I recalled either serving with in the war or kicking the bolts out of at the Academy. Normally, I’d have been spark-broken. But given the crap I had just went through, nothing really fazed me anymore.

“My name is Doubledealer, by the way,” the captain went on to say.

“Charming.”

He cocked his head to the side, giving me an odd look. “You know, we could always use more bots on our crew. Especially one with as much wisdom and experience as you.”

“In your exhaust-filled dreams, kid,” I grunted.

“Please, at least give it some thought. The work we do pays very well—”

“Shove it up your actuator.”

Doubledealer sighed, though I doubt he was actually upset. “Don’t say I didn’t try to spare you from an awful fate.”

“Are you gonna kill me?”

“No,” Doubledealer said quietly. “But where we’re heading, you’re going to wish I did.”

And to be honest with you? Deep down, I kinda wish he had. It’s not that I’m afraid of going out there and getting torn to pieces for the amusement of some five-faced squids… but because I hate watching others suffer that very fate. Even those Monstercons that are out there don’t deserve that. And yet Guzzle’s out there ripping their sparks out and gnawing on their transformations cogs….

I can’t imagine what it’s like for someone as young as you to watch something like that. Hell, you’ve probably seen worse than me.

I honestly don’t know how we’re gonna get out of this one, if at all. I wish I could tell you that this story had a happy ending… but I’m afraid it’s just getting started.

ALIGNMENT

Part 2: The False God

Bionicle Alternatives: Altered Legends I, Chapter One

 CHAPTER ONE

Toa Matau grimaced as he picked up the piece of an Airship. There were plenty of them scattered across the ruins of the Moto-Hub, as well as outside in the streets of Le-Metru. Clearly, the great cataclysm that Makuta had wrought when he cast Mata Nui into slumber had not been kind to the Moto-Hub and its contents. Or the rest of Metru Nui, for that matter.

Matau could tell the others were staring at him as he stood amid the wreckage. From behind him, Nuju asked, “Do you know how to put one back together?”

“Yeah,” Matau replied, not sounding a hundred percent certain. “Kinda. I usually had other Le-Matoran working with me, though. Lots of them, at that.”

Onewa sighed as he picked up another piece. “Well, we might as well get to work. You’re gonna have to guide us, though.”

Matau shook his head as he dropped the piece he was holding. “There’s no point. It will take forever-long. Even if you guys were smart-thinking Le-Matoran, there’s not enough of us to build an Airship in less than a few days. The Matoran don’t have that kind of time.”

“We would probably need something that can fix things quickly,” mused Whenua. “Maybe we could use a regeneration Kanoka disk.”

“Even the highest-level regeneration disk would barely be enough to repair something as large as an Airship,” said Vakama. “And we would need lots of them.”

“What about a mask then?” asked Onewa. “You’re the mask maker here. Surely there’s a mask you could make out of a disk like that.”

Vakama thought for a moment. “There is, actually,” he said. “The Kanohi Kiril, the Mask of Regeneration. Turaga Dume wore one, I believe.”

At this, Nokama perked up. “Wait. Turaga Dume… he’s still in one of the spheres, beneath Po-Metru.”

Vakama nodded. “That he is, sister.” The Toa Metru had discovered the sleeping form of Metru Nui’s Turaga shortly before their confrontation with Makuta, at which point they had deduced that the Turaga Dume who had branded them as impostors was in fact the real impostor; that impostor having been Makuta himself.

“Except Dume didn’t have his mask when we found him,” Nuju pointed out. “Makuta had it. Meaning it’s either with him or back at the Coliseum, if it’s even still intact.”

“Well, no way are we break-freeing Makuta from his prison,” said Matau. “So I guess to the Coliseum it is!”

The Toa of Air started to leave only for Nokama to grab his arm. “Wait,” she said. “Shouldn’t we check on Turaga Dume to make sure he’s still safe?”

“Po-Metru is on the other end of the island,” said Onewa. “With the chutes not working, it would be a long journey. Plus, those spheres are heavy. You expect us to carry him all the way back to the Coliseum?”

“We’ll go to the Coliseum and get his mask, then we’ll get his mask,” Vakama said. The tone in his voice indicated there was little room for argument.

Nokama looked uncertainly towards the Toa of Fire. He was already striding out of the Moto-Hub, his back to her. With a quiet sigh, Nokama walked after him, with the other four Toa trailing close behind.

*  *  *

Far off the coast of Metru Nui, trapped within a seal of protodermis, Makuta was growing restless.

The first stage of his plan had not turned out the way he had expected. Although he had been successful in placing a spell on Mata Nui and lulling the Great Spirit into a deep slumber, his plan to brainwash and enslave the Matoran population of Metru Nui had been botched by the city’s new Toa defenders.

How could this have been possible? The stars had foretold a different set of Matoran that were destined to become Toa and Makuta had manipulated Toa Lhikan into transferring his power to the wrong ones. Yet still they had managed to stop him… but not for long. Makuta knew it was only a matter of time before he finally broke free from this prison. It was simply when and how that were in question.

He had reached out with his mind to two of his most trusted minions, Sidorak and Roodaka, in order to summon them and the Visorak Hordes to Metru Nui. However, something had blocked him and his message had gone unreceived. Who or what was responsible for this interference, Makuta did not know, which only infuriated him more.

Still, he had to remain calm. Blind rage would get him nowhere. Besides, he could sense that the six Toa responsible for his current predicament had returned to Metru Nui. Their powers were the only thing that could free him from this prison. All he needed to do was direct them towards doing just that.

An opportunity would present itself eventually, he knew. He simply needed to wait. Then, once he was free, the Toa Metru would learn the full extent of his wrath… and the Great City would finally be his.

*  *  *

With the chute system having been destroyed in the cataclysm, the trip from Le-Metru to the Coliseum had taken much longer than it normally would have. Matau had tried to pass the time by entertaining the others with his Mask of Illusion, though it was more for his own amusement than for anyone else’s. His fun came to an abrupt end when Onewa threatened to throw a rock at Matau after the Toa of Air had scared him with the form of the late Dark Hunter Nidhiki.

“Sheesh, some stick in the mud you are,” Matau grumbled as he returned to his original form. “I thought Stone-types like you were fun-lovers.”

“It’s hard to be a ‘fun-lover’ when your city is dead and all of your friends are trapped in stasis spheres,” Onewa retorted.

Those words cut through Matau’s merriment and the Toa of Air remained quiet for the rest of the journey. None of the others spoke until they reached the Coliseum. As they walked through the front gates, stepping over the bodies of deactivated Vahki enforcers, Whenua looked up at the worn black tower that served as the centerpiece of Metru Nui, stretching up towards the blackened skies.

“How are we going to get up there?” the Toa of Earth asked. “I doubt the elevators are working after Makuta shut down the power grid.”

“Maybe Nuju can lift us all up there with that mask of his,” Matau suggested, nudging the Toa of Ice with an elbow.

Nuju frowned at him. “Very funny.” He then looked over to Vakama. “You don’t actually expect me to do that, do you?”

“No.” Vakama brought out his Disk Launcher and attached it to his back. “I’ll fly up and look for Turaga Dume’s mask. In the meantime, the rest of you head down and make sure the rest of the Matoran spheres are still safe and sound. I’ll meet up with you later.”

The Toa of Fire took off before anyone could say anything. As they watched him go, Onewa muttered, “Is it just me, or has he been acting different lately?”

Nokama nodded solemnly. “Ever since we defeated Makuta, he’s been a lot more… hot-headed, for lack of a better term. I feel like he’s trying to emulate Toa Lhikan, but he’s lacking the… humility and grace that made Lhikan so noble and revered.”

“Do you think he still blames himself for Lhikan’s death?” asked Whenua.

Nokama did not have an answer for that. Instead, she motioned the other four Toa to follow her as they headed into the Coliseum.

*  *  *

Vakama touched down onto the Coliseum’s highest balcony, where Makuta had revealed himself to the Toa Metru not so long ago. Seeing no sign of the Kanohi Kiril on the floor, he stepped into the chamber beyond, generating a small flame in his hand to light the way.

The throne from which the Turaga had once ruled Metru Nui sat in the center of the room, empty and unused. Outside the windows, the dark sky flashed with lightning as small drops of water trickled down the panes of glass. Beyond that, there was nothing much of interest in the room.

As Vakama explored the room, hovering his flame over the floor, he could not help but get the feeling that he was being watched. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and shined the fire in that direction, only to find nothing but a blank wall.

Must have been a Rahi, he thought. Thanks to the cataclysm, there were sure to be dozens if not hundreds of wild Rahi roaming around the city, having escaped from the Archives. If anything was going to prove to be a hindrance to the Toa in rescuing the Matoran, it was going to be that.

Turning back around, Vakama cast his light on the throne and finally spotted a red and black mask laying at the foot of the seat. With a sigh of relief, Vakama walked over to the mask and picked it up from the ground. As he was about to extinguish his flame, he could have sworn he heard the sound of skittering up in the rafters. But when he looked up and illuminated the darkness, he again saw nothing.

Figuring it was had just been a stone rat that he had scared off, Vakama put out his fire and headed back outside, activating his rocket pack to lift himself off from the balcony.

*  *  *

As the other five Toa Metru descended into the storage level beneath the Coliseum, Nokama could not help but feel at unease. Vakama had said earlier that something felt off about Metru Nui and she found herself agreeing with that assessment. It wasn’t just the quietness or the lack of Matoran living in the city. There was something else; something that she could not quite put into words. It hung over her like a storm cloud, filled with water yet never raining down on her.

Whenua had taken the lead, lighting the way with his Mask of Night Vision. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairway, he took a turn that took them into the main storage area… and immediately came to a stop.

“Uh… something’s not right, here,” the Toa of Earth said quietly.

“What is it?” asked Onewa.

However, Nokama could already tell what Whenua was talking about. Her eyes roamed the shelves that contained hundreds of Matoran spheres… and noticed how there were many gaps between the spheres. Too many.

“The Matoran,” she whispered. “Some of them are missing.”

“What?” Matau exclaimed, looking at the shelves. “Are you sure?”

“We only took six, yet there are a lot more than six missing here.” A look of worry and dread began to fall upon Nokama’s mask. “Someone’s been here before.”

The other Toa tensed. Matau and Onewa drew their tools, the latter gripping his Proto Pitons tightly as he scowled. “And they’re probably still here.”

Behind them, footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. Startled, Matau let out a yell as he spun around and generated a small cyclone from his Aero Slicers. The blast of wind hit its target and a red-armored figure came tumbling down the stairs, letting out a loud grunt as they hit the bottom.

Matau winced as he looked down at Vakama. “Sorry, fire-spitter. I, uh, thought you were someone else.”

Vakama glared at him as he got back up, dusting himself off. “Who else could I have been? I told you that I would be joining you.”

“Vakama, someone has been taking the Matoran spheres!” Nokama said urgently, indicating the empty spots on the shelves.

The Toa of Fire grimaced as he cast his gaze upon the shelves. Immediately, his mind went back to the “Rahi” he thought he had heard back in the Coliseum. Now, however, he was starting to realize that it might not have been a Rahi at all.

“We’re not alone,” he said in a low voice.

“Fantastic,” Matau said dryly. “And we forgot to bring the ‘welcome’ banners.”

Nokama looked to Vakama, a worried look on her blue mask. “What should we do, Vakama?”

The Toa Metru of Fire did not have an answer for her.

Bionicle Alternatives: Altered Legends I, Prologue

 This is a new BIONICLE story set in a new alternate universe in which the Toa Metru's adventures in 2005 start out... a little differently. Less spidery, for one thing.

PROLOGUE

Toa Onewa was feeling seasick.

A violent jolt sent him crashing into the wall of the transport, not for the first time. Another sent him tumbling back and landing on his rear end, while Whenua tripped over his foot and landed mask-first onto the floor. Nearby, Nokama and Nuju were waving their arms frantically in order to keep their balance while Vakama was pressed against a wall, his arms wrapped tightly around a beam for support.

As the transport bounced along the ocean waves, Onewa shot an annoyed look in the direction of the Toa Metru’s green-armored pilot. “Ever thought about driving like a normal person, Matau?”

“I’m sorry, have you piloted a ship through a nasty-bad storm before?” the Toa of Air shot back. “Because if so, by all means take the wheel!”

“Enough,” said Vakama. “Do you see any sign of land?”

“I can’t see anything!” Matau exclaimed. He jerked the controls of the transport to avoid crashing into a barrier, knocking the other Toa off their feet once more.

Pushing Whenua off of him, Onewa got onto his hands and knees and pushed himself up onto his feet, placing a hand on either wall to keep himself standing. Carefully, he made his way over to the front of the transport and came to stand behind Matau in the pilot’s seat. Indeed, it was nearly impossible to see anything through the heavy rain as the crashing waves carried the transport along the Silver Sea. Whether they were getting any closer to Metru Nui than when they had first passed the Great Barrier was anyone’s guess.

“I don’t suppose a certain someone could use his mask to light the way?” Onewa called back.

“Do you really think I would be able to concentrate in these conditions?” retorted Whenua.

“I would think you would be able to make yourself somewhat useful.”

“Stop bickering!” said Nokama. “We’re not going to get to Metru Nui any faster if we keep fighting with one another.”

“Wait!” Matau exclaimed, his face lighting up. “I think I see the shore! We’re—”

A massive tidal wave suddenly rose from the sea and launched the transport several feet into the air, sending its passengers flying out of the vehicle. As the six Toa Metru fell back towards the sea, Onewa spent the few seconds he had before becoming submerged beneath the water deciding that he really, really hated the ocean.

*  *  *

Toa Vakama awoke to the taste of mud in his mouth. It took him a moment to realize this, as he had never had the opportunity to taste it before. After deciding it was definitely not to his liking, he scrambled up to his knees and spat it out, shaking his head in revulsion.

He looked around to survey the results of their arrival to the shores of Metru Nui. The storm had calmed to a light drizzle. Pieces of the Lhikan II were scattered across the beach, with tiny crabs crawling on top and inspecting them. They immediately scattered when the wreck shifted and Onewa popped out from underneath, an unpleasant look on his face.

“Well, that stunk,” the Toa of Stone muttered.

Another figure emerged from behind him, coughing at the cloud of dirt he had kicked up. “It would appear there was an error in our transport,” said Nuju. The scope of his white mask narrowed as he focused it on Matau, who was sticking out from what was left of the transport’s cockpit. “Pilot error.” 

“Hey!” Matau exclaimed in protest. “You try piloting a poorly put-together transport through a storm! See if you can do better!”

“At least we made it one piece,” said Nokama, stepping out from the water. “Even if we can’t say the same about our ride.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll be able to find something together for the trip back,” said Whenua. The Toa of Earth walked over to Matau and pulled him out of the wreckage. “I’m sure there are still some Vahki Transports back at the Coliseum.”

“This is going to take forever, at the rate we’re going,” grumbled Onewa as he rose up. “We’ve only rescued, what, six spheres so far? And we lost one along the way, after dealing with a crazy Matoran and an evil talking plant.”

“Maybe we can find some Airships in Le-Metru,” suggested Nokama. “Those should be large enough to carry the remaining spheres. Right, Vakama?”

“Huh?” Vakama shook his head, not realizing he had been standing in one spot without having said a word. “Oh. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Onewa tilted his head. “You feeling all right, fire-spitter? You’re not having another one of those visions, are you?”

“No, not a vision,” the Toa of Fire quietly replied. “It’s just that… something feels off about this.”

“Off about what?” asked Nuju.

“The city.” Vakama gestured to the rest of Metru Nui, which appeared to have gone untouched since they had left. “I don’t know what it is about it. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s probably because it’s never been this quiet,” whispered Nokama. “Usually everything would be bustling with activity, but instead there’s… nothing. It’s all very… quiet.”

“Then let’s get a move on before the silence gets to our heads,” said Onewa. “Which way to Le-Metru?”

“Actually, I think we’re already there,” said Matau. He indicated the remains of green-colored structures laying up ahead. “We can probably find some Airships at the Moto-Hub. What’s left of it, anyway.”

“Let’s not waste any time then,” Vakama said, taking the lead. “Let’s go rescue the Matoran.”

With that, the six Toa Metru ventured into the ruins of Metru Nui, not knowing what awaited them in what remained of the City of Legends.

SEEKERS OF SHADOWS

Book 1 of Altered Legends

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Fourteen

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Furman University, Earth

A burst of energy blasted Alice out of the liberty and onto the campus grounds outside. The students reacted in surprise and started to run for safety as Alice pulled herself back up, her “skin” pulling apart further to expose her mechanical self underneath.

Sari emerged from the hole she had blasted through the library’s doors, clad in her full armor. Kicker was close behind her, carrying his energy saber. Both of them braced themselves for whatever Alice was about to do next.

Her once-human eyes glowing like blue robotic ones, Alice raised her hand to generate another orb of energy, though this one seemed to lack the intensity of the previous ones she had thrown. She hurled it at Sari, who caught it with her own hand before throwing it back, albeit not before charging it up with her own energy. The ensuing explosion sent Alice flying off her feet and she landed two meters from where she had once stood.

The defeated Alice struggled to get back up only to collapse back onto the ground, sparks spitting out from her exposed mechanical parts. She regarded Sari and Kicker with baleful eyes as they approached her, weapons still drawn.

“Go ahead,” she hissed at them. “Finish it.”

Kicker moved to raise his blade but Sari stopped him, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked in alarm.

Kicker looked back at her as if she had lost her mind. “She’s too dangerous to be left alive. She would have blown up the whole school.”

“But she didn’t,” Sari retorted. “We stopped her. Now we just hold her here until the Autobots arrive.”

Kicker shook his head. “You don’t understand. She’s wild and unpredictable. There’s no taming something like her.”

Sari looked back down at Alice, who simply glared back at her. She then noticed that several of the students were staring at the three of them, recording them on their phones and taking pictures.

“We should get out of here,” she said quietly. “Too much unwanted attention.”

“And just how are we going to take her with us?” Kicker asked pointedly, gesturing at Alice.

Before Sari could answer him, a beam of light struck the ground in front of them, causing the crowd around them to scatter once more. As the beam retracted, two large robots stood in its place, one red and the other yellow. The yellow one immediately collapsed to his knees, staring down at his slightly scorched armor.

“My finish….” Sunstreaker muttered. “I just… I just finished buffing my plating!”

“I’ll admit, orbital bounces aren’t my favorite method of travel,” grunted Sideswipe. “Now I know why Jazz hates them so much.” He then looked down at Sari, Kicker, and Alice, disregarding the other panicked humans. “You’re Sari, right? Nice duds.”

“Huh? Oh, thanks.” Sari patted her masked face. “I’m, uh, surprised you guys came so quickly.”

“Yeah, Prime’s got us using orbital jumps to get around, at least until Wheeljack gets a GroundBridge up and running.” Sideswipe directed his attention to Alice, laying on the ground between him and the two armored techno-organics. “Who’s this?”

“Someone dangerous,” Kicker replied. “I don’t suppose you have any device to contain her in?”

Sideswipe thought for a moment. “No, but I’m sure Wheeljack has something back at base. If we move quick, we can get her in something before she gets loose. Who even is she?”

“She’s like me,” Sari said quietly. “A techno-organic.”

“We are nothing alike,” Alice snarled. “Don’t pretend you know anything about me!”

“Oooo-kay,” Sideswipe muttered. He looked to Sari and raised an optic ridge. “You have quite the story to tell, I take it?”

Sari sighed. “You have no idea….”

Decepticon camp, Earth

Killmaster stood alone in the chamber containing the Talisman, having brought it out of his dimension and returned it to its original place. Scorponok and Leo Prime had both vanished upon interacting with the device, leaving nary a trace of them having ever existed. Unfazed and indifferent, the Warrior Elite turned away from the alien device and proceeded to walk out of the chamber.

Had he lingered for a moment more, he would have seen the Talisman flash with energy again as it deposited a large, purple-armored figure into the chamber. The being dropped to a knee, fatigued from the efforts they had taken in getting here.

Not so long ago in this world, he had gone by the name of “Gnashteeth.” It was a name that had been derided by many and one that he himself had never been proud of. Still, it was a name he had been forced to go by until he found one that was more fitting… or until one found him.

But after the journey he had been on, he had finally found his true self; the name that was rightfully his. The name that, soon, all would learn to fear.

But first, he had to rid himself of the one who already carried that name and make it his.

A pearly white grin crossed Megatron’s face as he transformed into his dinosaur form and stalked out of the chamber. 

Elsewhere

Leo Prime groaned as he rolled onto his back, staring at the metal ceiling above him. 

While he was glad to see that he was no longer in Killmaster’s void of a pocket dimension, that still left the question of where he was now. After giving his processor a moment to readjust himself, he slowly sat up to survey his surroundings… and cursed to himself.

“Well, well,” said the blue wolf-like robot sitting in front of him. “Fancy seeing you around here.”

“Steel Jaw,” Leo Prime growled, glaring at his former co-conspirator. “What are you doing here? Where even are we?”

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same things.” Steel Jaw turned to the cell door, through which Leo Prime could see other cells containing bots that he recognized from his Mayhem movement. “It seems as though we are in familiar company.”

Before Leo Prime could ask any one of the thousand questions running through his mind, a door opened at the end of the hallway and the shadowed figure of a strange creature with tentacles appeared, with two larger figures flanking it. When the alien spoke, it spoke in the Cybertronian language yet with a voice that was most definitely not.

“Your waiting has finally reached its end.”

Two large gray and purple robots — featuring designs that Leo Prime recognized to be neither Cybertronian nor Eukarian — stormed into the hallway and opened one of the cell doors, dragging out its two occupants.

“Save any prayers you may have for your god Primus,” the alien creature went on. “Because you are about to meet him.”

Leo Prime stormed up to the door of his cell, pushing Steel Jaw aside. “Where are we, creature?” he demanded. “What do you plan on doing to us?”

“You are home, Cybertronian,” the alien replied. “And it is what you will be doing for us that is the question.”

Before Leo Prime could question the creature further, the two guards departed with the prisoners and the door slammed shut.

“You know,” Steel Jaw said as he sat against the wall, folding his arms behind his head. “I never did want to live forever.”

The Lost Light

“Don’t tell me you called us up here just to watch us get captured.”

Star Saber ignored Nickel’s remark as he stared out the viewport, watching as the strange spacecrafts with tendrils pulled the immobile Lost Light in the same direction as the Vis Vitalis. They were nearing the end of the Muta-Gaath Nebula and all of the gathered bots on the ship’s bridge were dreading what awaited them on the other side.

Stormshot stood to the back of the room, debating whether or not she should say something about the “ghost” in the engine rooms. Would telling Star Saber about it help them get out of this situation, or would it only add another burden onto the already beleaguered captain’s shoulders? She was surprised Red Alert hadn’t said anything yet, but he was too busy gawking in awe and murmuring with the others on the present situation.

She started to inch towards the door, intending to dash back to the engine rooms and confront the ghost again. However, she was worried that doing so would simply arise suspicion. Her ex-Decepticon status already made her feel like she was not trusted by the Autobots on the ship, though she wasn’t sure if that was just baseless paranoia on her part. Then again, if she told them why she was leaving, they would probably lock her up on the account of having lost her processor.

Deciding to take her chances, Stormshot slipped out of the room and quickly made her way back to the engine rooms. To make sure she got there before they got out of the nebula, she transformed into her jet mode and blasted down the corridors, which were empty thanks to most of the crew being on the bridge.

Upon returning to the engine room, she found the ghost exactly where she had left him, floating in front of the hyper-drive. He flashed her a grin as she stormed up to him.

“Back so soon?” the apparition asked.

“What is going on here?” Stormshot demanded, weapons drawn. “Are you behind this?”

“I take it something terrible is going on outside?”

“Don’t act coy, wise aft! I can tell that you know more than you’re letting on! Who even are you?”

The “ghost” smiled as he shrugged, splaying his hands. “I suppose my acting skills aren’t what they used to be. My name is Doubledealer.”

“Doubledealer,” Stormshot repeated the moniker with bitterness. “Very trustworthy name.”

“I always thought so. I played double agent for both factions during the war, though I was never really loyal to either one cause; just my own, which was to make money.”

“How did you end up on this ship?” Stormshot asked.

“I was being paid by the Autobot Secret Service to infiltrate the Secret Order, back when they were around. When things got compromised, I escaped one of their bases on a stolen ship and got picked up by your friends here. Only problem was, said stolen ship had a bunch of clones who thought they were the new Megatron. Needless to say, they didn’t take too kindly to that.”

“So, what? They killed you?”

“The twitchy one did; Red Alert, I believe his name is.” Doubledealer smirked. “Only he didn’t kill me. Not for long, in any case.”

Stormshot frowned. “Explain.”

“Did you really think I would risk my neck for the Autobots? I was fully aware of the things that their Secret Service often got themselves into, and that the rate of survival was far too low for my liking. Still, they were offering a very attractive sum of money, so I decided to reach out to some friends of mine to pull me out in the event that I did die. They agreed, so I did what the Autobots asked of me up until one of them shot me dead. Then, my friends gave me a second lease on life.”

“And just who are these friends of yours?” Stormshot asked.

“Have you looked outside recently?”

Stormshot opened her mouth to speak again but Doubledealer’s image was already dissipating before her optical sensors, eventually leaving her alone in the engine rooms. 

A dozen things were running through her mind as she rushed back to the bridge. Upon her return, she found that the Lost Light had already exited the Muta-Gaath Nebula and was fast-approaching a coalition of five celestial bodies, arranged in a circular, ring-like formation. The Vis Vitalis was leading the captive Lost Light, still guided by the tendril-ships, towards the center of the ring.

“Those planets look like Cybertron,” Stormshot heard someone say.

“Signal Flare, can you scan for life signs?” asked Star Saber.

Signal Flare shook his head. “Scanners aren’t working, for some reason. I’ll keep trying.”

“Don’t bother,” Star Saber muttered. “I think we’re about to find out.”

In the center of the ring, a sixth planet suddenly manifested itself as the two ships drew closer to it. Like the other five, it bore a strong resemblance to Cybertron. However, it was distinguished by a pair of metal rings that enclosed the celestial body, creating an X-like shape around it.

Stormshot noticed a green and yellow bot shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, guys,” Cosmos said quietly. “I swear I didn’t know anything about this.”

“It’s fine, Cosmos,” Star Saber replied, letting out a heavy sigh. “Just another normal day for the Crusadercons.”

Yet somehow, Stormshot thought, it would probably be the last.

Planet X, colony world of Liege Maximo

The lightning stopped, though Rodimus Prime still felt as if he was in pain. The being who called himself Primus stood over him, regarding him with a look of pity.

“You know, when I had created the Matrix, I had hoped it would guide the people of Cybertron into an everlasting peace. Instead, all it created was chaos.”

Rodimus groaned as he rolled onto his back, glaring up at his assailant. “What are you talking about?”

“Surely I do not need to spell it out,” Primus replied dryly. “The Matrix of Leadership was only ever supposed to be carried by one, yet the thirteen who considered themselves Primes fought over it. Even during their fragile alliance was the Matrix’s true bearer contested. After that, it became a political tool, used as means to rule rather than to lead. In the span of several thousand years, it has gone from being a source of life to simply being another bauble.”

“Yeah, speaking of the Matrix, where is it?” Rodimus asked, opening his chest compartment to show the empty Matrix chamber within. “I had it with me, but it was gone when I—”

His voice trailed off as Primus held up the object in question. The Matrix of Leadership seemed to glow even more radiantly in the so-called God’s hands than Rodimus had ever seen it.

“Clearly, it had been a mistake to entrust such power in the hands of those who barely understand it,” Primus went on. “It was also a mistake for me to leave my people to begin with. Perhaps then Cybertron would be better prepared for what is to come.”

Primus then made a gesture with his hand and the room became fully illuminated. The first thing Rodimus noticed was a giant viewscreen which displayed the image of five replica Cybertrons arranged in a circle, with a sixth planet floating in its epicenter. Approaching the sixth planet were two ships; the one in the lead he recognized as the Vis Vitalis, former ship of the Autobot Thunderclash. The second, Rodimus realized with horror, was the Lost Light, being escorted by a fleet of strange black vessels with tendrils.

“It would appear we are about to have visitors,” Primus said. “If I were to wager a guess, I believe they are here to rescue me. Or rather Rung, I should say.”

“I swear to God, if you hurt them,” Rodimus started to say.

Primus laughed. “I am God, Rodimus Prime. You will swear to me.”

“No. The real Primus — if there even is one — wouldn’t side with the likes of Liege Maximo and invade innocent worlds to build some sort of weapon. I don’t know who you are, but you’re no ‘God’ of mine.”

“Then I won’t waste your time any further.” Primus made another gesture and the door behind Rodimus and Convoy opened to allow several guards in, including the one who had led the two Primes here in the first place. “Take them to one of the holding cells. They will soon be in good company.”

“We’ll stop you,” Rodimus grunted as he was pulled up and restrained by the guards. “You’re far from the first evil megalomaniac we’ve faced.”

Primus chuckled. “Then I just need to be the first one to win.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Transformers Regenerated: Pax Cybertronia XIII, Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “We have been deceived. We have been deceived. We have—”

“Oh my god, snap out of it!”

A hand struck Convoy across the faceplate and he abruptly snapped back to reality, finding himself once more in a cell with Rodimus Prime. His yellow optics briefly met Rodimus’ stern blue ones before averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” the older bot murmured. “I… I’m still having difficulty processing things.”

“No kidding,” Rodimus said wryly. “Whatever Liege Maximo told you must have been pretty bad.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Convoy muttered. “What makes it even worse is that I still can’t decide if he’s lying or not. It’s like half of me believes him and the other doesn’t; that’s what’s driving me insane.”

“That’s probably what he wants,” Rodimus said pointedly. “If we go crazy, we’ll end up losing our morale and therefore any drive to stand up to him. It’s like an underhanded method of bullying.”

Convoy raised an optic at him. “That’s… remarkably wise, coming from you.”

Rodimus smirked. “Hey, I’ve been a Prime for a year; sooner or later, one has to show some proof of maturity.”

“Well then, does your newfound wisdom give you any ideas on how to get out of here?”

“My first thought was to transform and ram into the door in truck mode,” Rodimus replied. “But I doubt that would be very effective.”

Convoy shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

Gears whirred and clanked as Rodimus Prime converted into his large, red-and-orange truck form. After backing up as far as he could from the door, he let his engine roar to life as he sped forward and collided into the metal door. It instantly flew off its hinges as the Prime crashed through it and into the wall on the other end. He then transformed back to his robot mode, rubbing his head as smoke exhumed from where his engine was located.

“I was definitely not expecting it work that well,” he muttered.

“Honestly, it seems a bit too easy,” Convoy remarked as he stepped out of the cell. He looked down the hall to see a tall robot in black and gray emerge from around the corner, carrying a green three-pronged staff in its hands.

“That’s the guard I was talking about,” Convoy whispered, pointing at the bot. “The one who calls himself ‘Starscream.’”

Rodimus Prime readied his arm cannons. “Let’s hope he’s not as dangerous as the real one.”

The guard walked in the direction of the two Primes. While it had clearly noticed that the two had escaped, it did not appear to be very alarm as it held its trident aloft rather than in a battle-ready position.

“Is everything all right here?” the guard asked in a monotonic voice.

Convoy and Rodimus blinked, exchanging glances. “Um, we just broke out,” the latter said carefully.

The guard had no reaction to this. Instead, all it said was: “Follow me.”

Rodimus opened his mouth to say something but the guard had already turned it back to the two Primes. He exchanged another glance with Convoy before taking a cautious step forward to follow the mysterious bot, still keeping his arm cannons primed and ready. Convoy hesitated for a moment before walking after Rodimus, following the guard down the empty hallway.

*  *  *

It was done. The transfer of the Regenesis ores was finally complete. Now, the waiting begun.

Tyrest paced in the room that led to the Grand Architect’s main chamber, observed by a silent Flame. Fearstorm and Viral were still on Earth, having presumably joined the Decepticon forces stationed there. Tyrest could not care less where they were, seeing as how many times they had failed him within the past week.

A part of him was anxious over what — or who — he was going to see in the next room. In all his years of serving him, Tyrest had yet to see the Grand Architect face-to-face. No one had, he believed, besides perhaps Lord Imperious Delirious. Was he finally going to see the Grand Architect’s face, or simply another projection of his gear-shaped insignia? Was the Grand Architect even a singular being, or was he in fact a committee of more than one individual?

All of these questions were still running through the former Chief Justice’s mind as the doors opened and Liege Maximo stepped in, followed closely by Amalgamous Prime and a reluctant-looking Vector Prime.

“Finished already?” Liege Maximo asked, his red eyes falling on Tyrest.

“Yes,” Tyrest replied. “The ores have been transferred. We are ready to commence the Drilling.”

Liege Maximo shook his head. “Not yet. Not until the Grand Architect says we are ready.”

Tyrest fought back a scowl threatening to cross his face. “And when will that be? What exactly is he waiting for?”

The ancient Prime said nothing. At that moment, the door to the Grand Architect’s chamber opened and the voice of the individual in question spoke out to them. 

“Enter.”

Before Tyrest could take a step, Liege Maximo and Amalgamous Prime moved ahead of him, dragging Vector Prime with them. After exchanging glances, Tyrest and Flame followed them inside. The door slammed shut, leaving them in a dark room illuminated only by a faint blue light.

“Is it done?” asked the Grand Architect, his voice coming from all around them.

“It is,” Liege Maximo said, depriving Tyrest of a chance to speak. “The God Gun has been charged with all of the ores… well, all save for one.”

“Excellent.” Tyrest saw a shadow move, but couldn’t make out its shape. It did not appear to be alone. “We are almost ready.”

“Almost?!” The outburst prompted Liege Maximo, Flame, and the others to look at Tyrest in surprise. Even Tyrest was surprised with himself at the word that had just blurted from his mouth. But that didn’t stop him from pressing on. “What else is there to be done? You sent us to retrieve the Regenesis ores and Rung; nothing else. Now we have the ores and you yourself have recovered Rung. What more could you possibly need?”

The Grand Architect was silent for a while. Tyrest could feel Liege Maximo and Amalgamous glaring at him, but he did not care. His attention was solely on the Grand Architect, wherever they were hiding in the darkness.

After what felt like a long moment, the Grand Architect spoke again. “I understand your frustration, old friend. I myself have been waiting several thousand years for this very moment.”

Tyrest’s expression turned into one of confusion. He had not been expecting to be addressed with such familiarity. The Grand Architect was speaking to him as if he had been a close friend; one that he had known for far longer than Tyrest had known him.

“Believe me,” the Grand Architect went on, “we are very close to what will be our finest hour. We simply need to wait for the final pieces to fall into place.”

“What pieces?” Tyrest asked. “And how long will we have to wait?”

“Oh, not long,” the Grand Architect replied. “Not long at all.”

Decepticon camp, Earth

The ground shook as Killmaster emerged from the chamber to the Talisman, his wand sparking in his hand. The three Seekers that had been guarding it had all departed and in their place stood Scorponok, a wide, expectant grin on his face.

“It is done,” Killmaster rumbled quietly, staring down at the purple and green Decepticon.

“Excellent,” Scorponok replied. “You know what to do next then.”

Killmaster nodded as he raised his wand, pointing at Scorponok. Its tip flared with energy and in the blink of an eye Scorponok found himself standing in an empty void, with the Talisman situated before him. 

He was not alone, however. Killmaster had also teleported himself into the pocket dimension, standing to Scorponok’s side. Meanwhile, a white and red bot with the appearance of a beast warrior sat nearby. His appearance struck Scorponok as being awfully familiar. It only took a moment for the Decepticon to put a name to the face.

“Ah. Leo Prime, isn’t it?” Scorponok said to the former leader of the Maximals. ”The infamous pretender to the throne. It’s been too long.”

Leo Prime said nothing as he glared back at the Decepticon.

Scorponok smirked as he continued. “Do you recall, during our last meeting, when I alluded something I had found on the ship of Domitius Major and his crew that grabbed my interest more than Shockwave’s little energon project?” He gestured to the Talisman. “Well, you’re looking at it right now.”

Leo Prime glanced at the large device. “I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“It is called the Talisman, though the name fails to do it justice. You may not see it, but my several centuries of work with alien technology has given me an eye for specific details; details which identify this as an ancient alien device with powers beyond imagination. The humans who discovered it were able to achieve impossible things with it; just think what beings of higher intelligence such as myself can do!”

“What do you plan on doing with it?” asked Leo Prime.

“Ideally, the goal is to use it to usurp control of the Decepticons and, eventually, Cybertron itself,” Scorponok said. “But first, I need to study it and learn how to wield its power. Only then will I know how to use it against Megatron.”

“So, you’ve been obsessing over this Talisman thing for Primus-knows how long, and you don’t even know what you can do with it.” Leo Prime snorted in derision. “That’s honestly kind of sad.”

“Enough,” Scorponok snarled. “No more out of you, or else I’ll decide to use you as a test subject.” The Decepticon paused at this, looking thoughtful as he tapped his chin. “Actually… I might as well use you, seeing as how I have no one else.”

Before Leo Prime could do anything, Scorponok seized him with a large claw and dragged him towards the Talisman. The device began to glow as the Maximal was shoved towards it.

“You wanted to know what was inside my mystery box,” Scorponok chuckled. “Well, now you’re a part of it!”

With one final shove, Leo Prime collided with the Talisman and the void they were in was blanketed with a blast of white energy.

*  *  *

The mysterious guard led Rodimus Prime and Convoy through a maze of empty hallways and corridors that took them out of the cell block and back into what Rodimus assumed to still be Liege Maximo’s palace. Their footsteps echoed throughout the wide chambers they were taken through. Rodimus found it very strange that there was not a single bot in sight; not even other guards or workers maintaining the place.

They eventually came to a stop before a set of doors. The guard approached its control panel and interacted with it. After a moment, the doors opened to reveal a barely lit room while the guard turned to face the two Primes.

“The Grand Architect is waiting for you.”

The name rang a bell in Rodimus’ mind. It was the same name the bot who had claimed to be “Prowl” had dropped shortly before Rodimus had ended up in this predicament. If that bot had been telling the truth, then this “Grand Architect” was the one responsible for the attacks on Caminus and the other colony worlds in order to accumulate the Regenesis ores. And if the guard was telling the truth, then that individual was waiting for them beyond those doors.

Knowing Liege Maximo, it was most definitely a trap. Yet somehow that didn’t stop Rodimus from stepping into the dark chamber. Convoy waited a moment before doing the same. He tried to pull the guard in with them but the door slammed shut the second his trailing foot was pass the threshold.

At that moment, a voice spoke out from the shadows before them. “Ah, at last. Here we have the reigning Prime and he who the legends call ‘the Arisen.’ Such honorable guests for this historic occasion.”

“I take it you’re the Grand Architect?” Rodimus asked. “Can’t say I’m impressed, so far.”

The voice chuckled. “You’ve heard of me, then. I take I’ve made a bad impression on you.”

Rodimus scowled. “Enough chit-chat. I want an explanation on who you are, what you’ve been doing, and what you’re planning to do.”

“Surely you already know the answer to that second part,” the Grand Architect replied. “Unless you haven’t been paying attention to what’s been done to the worlds you’ve been sworn to protect.”

“Why, then? What purpose do you have for Shockwave’s energon ores?”

“Their properties are necessary in powering the God Gun. While I could have created the fuel myself, I figured that if the work had already been done for me, why not simply use it.”

Rodimus frowned. “The ‘God Gun?’ What the hell is a God Gun?”

The Grand Architect laughed. “My, you are just full of questions, aren’t you? I don’t even remember what your other ones were.”

“Enough of this!” Convoy snapped, pushing past Rodimus as he stepped forward. “Show yourself, Architect! Stop playing games!”

“If you insist.”

A grunt sounded as a small orange figure was pushed out of the shadows, looking tired and weak. Rodimus’ optics widened in recognition and surprise.

“Rung?! What are you doing here?”

Rung looked up at him, his face pained with sorrow and regret. “Rodimus… I am so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? What has he done to you?”

Before Rung could respond, there was a flash of light as a large, purple and green figure materialized in the room, falling face-first onto the floor. A large spherical object rolled out of his large claw.

“Scorponok!” Rodimus exclaimed. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse….”

But Scorponok was not paying attention to the young Prime, instead looking around in confusion. “Where am I? Where is the Talisman?!”

“Oh, Scorponok,” the Grand Architect said in a pitiful tone. “Did you honestly think you could scheme behind my back and get away with it?”

Scorponok cried out as an invisible force seized him and pulled him up towards the ceiling. His screams could still be heard even as he vanished into the darkness.

“Don’t worry,” the Architect went on, talking over the Decepticon’s protests. “You’ll get your Talisman. Or it’ll get you. One of the two.”

Rodimus Prime looked down at the object Scorponok had dropped. He recognized it as the Magnificence, an ancient artifact which he had led his team on an ill-fated mission to find. He moved to retrieve it only for a metal hand to emerge from the shadows and grab it before he could. Rodimus looked up to see that the bot who had grabbed it was none other than Cybertron’s former Chief Justice, Tyrest.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” the young Prime muttered.

Tyrest, for his part, seemed to be just as perplexed by everything that was happening. Behind him, Rodimus could see Liege Maximo lurking in the shadows, accompanied by three other figures — one of which Rodimus realized was a captive Vector Prime, watching everything unfold with a look of horror.

Marveling at the Magnificence as he rolled it in his hand, a confused Tyrest said, “I don’t understand. What is happening? What does this all mean?”

“You hold the ultimate repository of knowledge in the universe, old friend,” said the Grand Architect. “Ask it.”

Frowning, Tyrest rolled the Magnificence over and held it up to his face, peering into its “eye.”

That was when all chaos ensued.

Tyrest screamed as energy surged through him, his body splitting and folding apart. Rung screamed as well as tendrils of energy pulled him towards the Chief Justice, his own body folding up and compacting into itself. Rodimus cried out as he tried to grab him but was stopped by Convoy, who pulled him back and held him in place by the shoulders.

As Tyrest and Rung continued to scream, the Magnificence hovering over them, a third figure stepped out from the darkness. The silver and blue robot simply smiled and uttered nary a sound as the Magnificence’s energies struck him as well, causing his body to shift as well.

The bodies of the three bots drew together and began to interlock with one another, slowly taking on the shape of a new figure onto itself. As panels aligned with each other and fused into place, the Magnificence slowly lowered onto what had once been Rung’s torso, taking the place of his head. The circular window which contained its “eye” glowed as the sphere locked into place, completing the transformation.

The voice that came out of the new being seemed to bounce against the walls of the chamber, sounding like an amalgamation of the Grand Architect, Rung, and Tyrest’s voices, with a fourth, unfamiliar one joining the chorus.

“At last… after so long… we are together once more. Maybe not whole, like we once were… but together.”

Rodimus’ jaw hung open in silent shock. It was Convoy who voiced the question on both of their minds, though it came out as barely louder than a whisper.

“Who… who are you?”

“I am Primus,” the figure said. “I am the First.”

He raised a hand to the two Primes, energy crackling at its fingertips.

“Now… kneel before your God.”

Rodimus and Convoy were unable to move in time as the tendrils of energy struck them and drew out agonized screams from the voiceboxes….

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta V, Epilogue

EPILOGUE

 The island of Kangaro, 1,000 years later

“That’s not how I remember the Turaga telling it.”

Janar glared at the Le-Matoran sitting across from him. “Leran, you sometimes forget to put your mask on in the morning. Your memory is not the most trustworthiest.”

“That’s not true!” Leran protested, crossing his arms. “As a matter of fact, I did remember to put my mask on this morning! So there!”

“How do you remember the Turaga telling it then?” asked the Ga-Matoran Kota.

“Well, obviously you skipped over the part where the Toa Tenebrae had to fight the Rahi Nui!” said Leran.

“That wasn’t the Toa Tenebrae,” Janar replied. “That was the Toa Metru; the new Toa Metru.”

“Well then, what about when the Toa Tenebrae drove off those Frostelus from Kangaro? What about that part, huh?”

Janar opened his mouth to refute Leran’s claim when he noticed a tall figure approaching them. The warrior was clad in gray and black armor, with a thin sword attached to his back. A gray Kanohi mask adorned his face, with yellow eyes glowing behind it.

“Mata Nui,” he whispered. “Is that… is that Toa Krakua?”

Kota and Leran both turned to see the newcomer. “It is!” the former gasped. “I didn’t think he’d ever come back.”

“Darn it,” Leran muttered. “I left my tablet back at my hut. I was gonna have him sign it….”

Janar got to his feet and walked over to Toa Krakua, trying not to look too excited. This effort was in vain as his ‘walk’ was more like a ‘run,’ and when he spoke, his words came out as a jumbled mess without any verbal punctuation.

“Hi Toa Krakua welcome to Kangaro how can I help you you look so cool.”

The Toa of Sonics looked down at Janar, a small smile on his mask. “Hello, Janar. Kota, Leran. It’s good to see you all again.”

“Oh my goodness.” Kota covered her mouth with her hands. “He remembers our names.”

“He probably just read our minds,” said Leran. “He wears a Mask of Telepathy, remember?”

“No, he doesn’t! It’s obviously shaped like a Hau.”

Krakua smiled at the Ga-Matoran. “No, I’m afraid Leran’s correct, Kota. I had my Kanohi Suletu reshaped to resemble a Hau in honor of a friend of mine. Plus, it makes people trust me more if they don’t know I’m reading their minds with my mask.”

“That is so cool,” said Janar. “You are so cool.”

Krakua chuckled. “Well, I owe it all to your Turaga. If it wasn’t for him, I would still be a Matoran just like you guys. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose he’s around? I was hoping to speak with him.”

“I’m here, old friend.” 

From behind the three Matoran approached a Turaga elder clad in bright green armor, using his Air Staff to keep himself balanced. Tired red eyes glowed behind his Noble Kanohi Faxon as he regarded Toa Krakua with a warm smile.

“Welcome back, Toa Krakua,” said Turaga Lesovikk. “How may I be of service to you?”

Krakua shook his head. “I’m not here for any favors, Turaga. Just thought I’d stop by and catch up with you.”

Janar turned to Turaga Lesovikk. “Is it true that you sacrificed your Toa power to create Toa stones? I was never clear on that part whenever you told it.”

Lesovikk chuckled. “Yes, Janar, you were on the right track. After defeating Karzahni and Makuta — all in one day, I might add — I felt that I had finally avenged my fellow Toa and achieved my destiny. Even with the Empire of Makuta defeated, I knew that the universe was going to need a lot more Toa.”

“Who were the other Toa you helped create?” asked Kota. “You didn’t just create Krakua, did you?”

The Toa of Sonics laughed. “What, am I not good enough?”

“No!” the Ga-Matoran said hastily. “That’s not— that’s not what I meant!”

Turaga Lesovikk chuckled. “Relax, Kota. I know what you meant. What say we retire to my hut and get our Toa visitor something to eat? Then perhaps I can regale you all with another story.”

“Yes!” Leran said excitedly. “I want to hear more about the Toa Tenebrae!”

“Oh, I’m afraid there’s not much more to say about them, Leran.” A twinkle gleamed in Lesovikk’s eyes. “But that’s not to say there are other heroes whose stories are worthy of legend.”

As the three Matoran and Toa Krakua followed Lesovikk, Janar ran up to walk alongside the Turaga. “For what it’s worth, Turaga,” he said quietly, “as cool as I think Krakua is, you will always be my favorite hero.”

Lesovikk chuckled again as he glanced at the Matoran. “And why is that, Janar?”

“If it wasn’t for you, I would still be living in Karzahni, along with Kota and Leran. You saved us from that horrible fate and brought us here, as well as create a new generation of Toa. I know the others and I might joke about how old you are… but that doesn’t mean we don’t respect you. Because we do, Turaga. We owe so much to you.”

Lesovikk smiled at him. Janar expected the Turaga to say something that would downplay his words, as he often did whenever someone gave him praise, but instead the elder merely patted him on the shoulder.

“Everyone is a hero to someone else,” Lesovikk said quietly. “Someday, Janar, that might even be you… if it isn’t already.”

Janar’s eyes widened behind his mask and he felt himself beginning to smile. It was easier to see his expressions ever since he abandoned the mask Karzahni had given him in favor of a Kanohi Volitak, a mask that had been worn by one of Lesovikk’s fellow Toa in his stories. Perhaps his choice of masks was more prophetic than he had first thought.

He was still smiling by the time they got to the hut, dreaming of stories of his own even as Turaga Lesovikk began his.

“Gather around, my friends. Listen again to our legend… of the BIONICLE.”

THE END — FOR NOW

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta V, Chapter Fourteen

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Battle for Metru Nui had ended, but the Great City was not the best off for it. The Coliseum laid in ruins, and the rest of the metrus were still in the ravaged state that the Great Cataclysm had wrought upon it. What little repairs had been made in the seven months since then had been undone by the battle itself, leaving Metru Nui in a near-uninhabitable state.

The island of Destral remained on the coast, having been taken over by the Order of Mata Nui. Most of the Makuta that had been stationed on the island had been swiftly executed by the likes of Tobduk, while servants like Roodaka and the Shadow Matoran had been apprehended. The Visorak hordes had scattered, with Order agents being dispatched to locate the “Heart” that controlled them and either destroy it or, at the very least, redirect them to an uninhabited island before they could invade any Matoran settlements.

The Toa Seal containing Makuta Teridax remained on the Coliseum, with the Order agents arranging plans to relocate it somewhere safe. The Shadowed One, leader of the Dark Hunters, had attempted to destroy it and obliterate Teridax, but his disintegration eye beams had no effect on the indestructible crystal, only causing him intense pain instead. Cursing the stars, the Shadowed One had taken his Dark Hunters and departed from Metru Nui, promising Helryx that she had not seen the last of them.

Helryx did not doubt that, which was why she knew Metru Nui needed to be protected in order to ward off any move made by the Dark Hunters to seize the Great City. However, the state the island was in made it impossible for the Matoran to live together in peace, especially not with any Toa protecting them. The surviving members of the Toa Tenebrae had turned down an offer to serve as the city’s new defenders, not seeing themselves fit for the job.

She was aware that a Ga-Matoran by the name of Macku had found six Toa stones while on Destral. While Helryx did not know where these stones had come from, she knew they would be useful in creating a new generation of Toa. It was simply a matter of finding the right Matoran.

As she dwelt on this matter, watching as her agents carefully removed Teridax’s Toa Seal from the Coliseum, she was approached by Turaga Lhikan, walking on his Firestaff.

“I take it you and your… friends won’t be sticking around?” the Turaga of Fire asked.

Helryx shook her head. “We have matters elsewhere to attend to. Some of the Makuta’s forces remain scattered, including the surviving Makuta themselves. As much as I would like to stay and keep an eye on Metru Nui, I simply cannot ignore my other duties.”

Turaga Lhikan nodded. It was at that moment Helryx noticed he was carrying the six Toa stones Macku had discovered. “I just wanted to make sure before I prepare our new Toa Metru.”

Helryx raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure that you can be trusted to select Toa? The last group you chose weren’t all that successful.”

“Yes, well, this time I have Dume to cross-reference with, if only to make sure my choices are suitable.”

Helryx couldn’t help but smile. “I will admit, I feel partially responsible for the failure of Nuhrii and the others.”

Lhikan looked up at her in surprise. “Pardon?”

“Were the six you chose — Nuhrii, Tehutti, Ahkmou… were they the only candidates you were considering?”

The Turaga narrowed his eyes. “I had… others in mind, yes. But the stars foretold it would be Nuhrii and the others, so—”

“The stars lied, Lhikan,” Helryx said. When the Turaga’s eyes widened in surprise, she elaborated. “The Great Spirit was aware of Makuta’s plan and rearranged the stars to hide the names of the true Toa Metru, making Makuta believe they were the false ones. Makuta was then supposed to mislead you into choosing the correct candidates, thinking they were the wrong ones… but you ended up choosing the actual wrong ones instead.”

Lhikan’s mouth fell agape. “You mean…?”

Helryx smiled at him. “You had better find Vakama and the others, Turaga. You wouldn’t want them to get away from you a second time.” 

*  *  *

“So… what are your plans for the future?”

“I’m going back to being solo,” said Chiara, resting in front of the Suva of the Great Temple. “I was never much one for teamwork. It’s not that I don’t like you guys… I’m just better off alone.”

“Same,” said Zaria. “I might see if the Order has any spots for a Toa of Iron. They might need one if they want to get rid of the remaining Makuta.”

“I think most of us were already solo in the first place,” Toa Orde, leaning against a pillar. “Most of the universe doesn’t want us, which is probably exactly why the Order chose us for this mission in the first place.”

“I’m thinking of finding a Matoran village to protect,” Seldaan said quietly, tracing a finger along the walls. “My homeland probably won’t welcome me back, so I’ll have to find somewhere that’s never heard of me.”

“I’m still undecided,” said Varian. “I’ve been away for several thousand years now, so I have a lot to catch up on. I’ll probably stick around here with Norik and the Rahaga until I know where my destiny lies.”

“Hopefully your destiny will be better than Arctur’s,” muttered Zaria. He dropped himself to the floor, resting his head against a pillar. “He deserved better than what he got.”

“He bought us time,” Orde said softly. “If it hadn’t been for his mask, Makuta would have destroyed us with his. He saved Metru Nui, whether he knew it or not.”

Zaria sighed but said nothing further. Silence fell over the five former Toa Tenebrae, waiting for the sixth of their number to return. Lesovikk had gone off without telling the others why; he had simply asked them to meet him at the Great Temple. Orde had made some cryptic comment about knowing what the Toa of Air was doing but refused to elaborate, not matter how many times Chiara prodded him. Fortunately for him, the Toa of Lightning was too exhausted to harass him anymore than she already had.

After what felt like hours, Lesovikk finally emerged through the front gates to the Great Temple, looking more drained than he had been after they had defeated Makuta Teridax. Before anyone could question him, Taurrus appeared behind the Toa of Air, having to crouch down so that he would fit inside.

“Are we all decided on where to go?” asked the Saevta.

“I’m staying behind,” Varian said, stepping away from the rest of the group. She briefly glanced at Lesovikk, scanning his mind. She then exchanged a look with Orde and smiled slightly.

“All right then!” Taurrus beckoned for the five Toa to gather before taking a position behind them, wrapping his arms around then. “Off we go.”

In a flash of light, the five Toa and their Saevta transporter were gone, leaving Varian alone in the Great Temple. The sound of rotors prompted her to look up to see a small, red-armored figure descend from the rafters. Touching down, Rahaga Norik folded up his rotors and stepped up to his former teammate, a smile on his face.

“Now then,” he said, “where would you like me to begin?”

Varian rubbed her chin. “Hmm… try somewhere around seven thousand years ago.” 

*  *  *

“We cannot stay here.”

Turaga Dume’s expression was grim as he regarded the ruins of Metru Nui. Turaga Lhikan stood beside him, having already delivered the Toa stones to the necessary Matoran and sent them off to the Great Temple. Although they would become known as the new Toa Metru, both Turaga knew that it would not be Metru Nui that they would be defending.

“We will need to relocate,” Dume went on. “It is too dangerous for the Matoran to live here; nothing is in operating order and there could still be servants of the Makuta roaming in the shadows. It would take a thousand years to repair the damage that has been done. We need to find someplace new for the Matoran to live.”

“I believe there is a passageway somewhere in the Great Barrier,” said Lhikan. “Not the one leading to Karzahni, but tunnels that opened up after the Cataclysm. We could perhaps travel through there to the world beyond.”

Dume gave him a look. “That will be dangerous as well. We would be treading uncharted territory.”

Lhikan nodded. “I know. But what other choice do we have?”

Dume sighed as he looked back towards the city. “You know, I hate it when you’re right,” the Turaga of Fire muttered. “Do you have any means for transportation?”

“The Order is providing us with enough airships to carry all of the Matoran.” Lhikan paused before raising an eyebrow at Dume. “Wait. Don’t you mean ‘we,’ not ‘you?’”

Dume shook his head. “I’m staying behind, old friend. Someone has to to watch over the city. The Rahaga are staying as well, along with their Toa friend.”

Lhikan frowned. “Are you sure it will be enough?”

“It will have to be.”

Lhikan opened his mouth, wanting to argue with Dume and convince him to come with them to whatever awaited beyond the Great Barrier. But he knew it would be useless; for all Dume accused him of being stubborn, the elder Turaga of Fire was no different.

Instead, all Lhikan said was, “May the Great Spirit be with you, old friend. Perhaps some day we will see each other again.”

“Yes,” Dume said quietly. “Some day.”

*  *  *

Off the coast of Metru Nui, on the abandoned island of Destral, agents of the Order of Mata Nui stepped through the ruins of the Makuta Fortress. They had already rescued the Matoran that the Makuta had captured, which they had been planning on converting into Shadow Matoran. Other prisoners included the former Visorak “king” Sidorak, who they whisked away to lock up with his “queen” Roodaka.

He knew what they were truly looking for, though: the Kanohi Avohkii, the Great Mask of Light. It had been reclaimed by the Brotherhood of Makuta not long before their takeover of Metru Nui, meaning it had to be on Destral. But no matter how much the Order picked through the wreckage, they would not find it, for it was now in the hands of the one prisoner they had failed to find and recapture.

Standing on a stone terrace that oversaw the Silver Sea, Mallake watched the Order agents from afar as they continued their futile search. With him were two Makuta servants — Shikaiju and Umarak — who had managed to escape in the midst of all the chaos. Mallake did not know enough about either of them to know whether he should trust them, but he figured he would find that out in due time.

Looking down at the Kanohi Avohkii in his hands, Mallake allowed a smile to cross his mask. The Toa would be looking for this, he knew. How far they would go to find it remained to be seen.

Turning back to Shikaiju and Umarak, he gave them a simple nod. Without a word, Shikaiju surrounded herself around the other two and teleported them away.

*  *  *

“We’re all set!”

Nuparu pulled himself out from under the airship’s controls, a wide grin on his orange mask. It was the happiest Macku had seen him in quite some time.

She supposed she couldn’t blame him. Despite being their home, Metru Nui was now the source of several bad memories for a lot of them; Nuparu especially given his responsibility for creating the Vahki and inadvertently assisting in the Makuta’s takeover. To get away from such a place was… liberating, in a way. None of them knew what was waiting for them beyond the Great Barrier, but the possibilities were endless. Macku couldn’t help but feel excited herself.

She turned around to look at the rest of the Matoran crewing the airship; one of many that the Order of Mata Nui had provided them with. Hewkii was beaming at her; Onepu was telling Kongu something about Gukko birds that the latter found very interesting; Jaller was trying very hard not to smile at a joke Hahli had made; Matoro was still reading the tablets they had ended up not using very much; and the chronicler himself, Takua, was stepping on board alongside Toa Vakama—

Wait… Toa Vakama?

Macku found herself staring slack-jawed at the freshly armored Toa Metru of Fire as he stepped onto the airship. He exchanged a nod with Jaller and gave a friendly wave to the other Matoran. He looked slightly bothered by the fact that many of them were staring at him, but that did not deter him as he stepped up to the front of the airship. Kongu hopped over and jumped into the pilot’s seat.

“All right!” the Le-Matoran said. “Let’s go—”

“Not yet,” said Toa Vakama. “We still have to wait for Turaga Lhikan.”

“I’m here.” The Turaga of Fire hobbled onto the airship, stepping up to stand beside Vakama. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Had to make sure someone other than Toa Matau was piloting the airship directly behind us. Wouldn’t want an accident to happen before we were even a few kios from the city.”

“Wait… did you say ‘Toa’ Matau?” Kongu groaned as he slumped down in his seat. “We are so dead.”

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk of your new protectors,” Turaga Lhikan said with a chuckle. “Go ahead and start things up.”

As the Le-Matoran got to work, Macku looked over to see Takua carving words onto a stone tablet. “Already chronicling, eh?” she said.

Takua chuckled. “Hey, we are about to make history here. Someone has to document it.”

Macku shook her head, unable to fight the smile creeping onto her mask. She watched through the viewport as the airship began to depart from Metru Nui, heading towards the tunnel that would take them out of this world of darkness. Whatever was waiting for them on the end, she had a feeling it would make for a pretty good story.

Bionicle Alternatives: Empire of Makuta V, Chapter Thirteen

 This was originally supposed to be part of Chapter Twelve, but I split it off so it wouldn't be too long (still posting them on the same day though, just 'cos).

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Miserix’s patience was at an end.

He had given Teridax ample opportunity to come out of hiding, but the Makuta of Metru Nui had yet to emerge from the Coliseum. The other Makuta were unrelenting in their attacks against him, even after he had killed a fair share of their numbers.

Mutran was the latest to meet his end. The Makuta scientist had dove in from above, firing bolts of energy from his Shadow Spear, only to receive a blast of lightning from Miserix’s claws. Mutran howled in pain as the electricity coursed through his armor, electrocuting him. The intensity of the attack eventually incinerated his Antidermis energies within and Mutran’s lifeless body plummeted towards the ground below.

Gorast screamed in rage as she jumped onto Miserix’s back. Digging her claws into his armor, she activated her Mask of Disruption in the hope of scrambling the dragon Makuta’s powers. Before she could do so, a seismic shake shook the ground and Miserix lost his grip on the Coliseum, falling towards the ground with an anguished roar.

The ground shook again as Miserix hit the earth. Gorast had dismounted from his back in time and was now surrounding the former Brotherhood leader with the remaining Makuta — Icarax, Vamprah, and Chirox. Miserix had no idea where Antroz had gone, but that was not a pressing concern on his mind.

As Miserix tried to right himself, Icarax took a step towards him, holding his sword and Rotating Shadow Blades aloft in his hands. The Kanohi Kraahkan, the Great Mask of Shadows, adorned his face. Miserix could not fathom why Teridax would bequeath such a mask to someone as untrustworthy as Icarax, but it would not have been the first decision Miserix had questioned of his usurper.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Icarax began. “Your effort was an impressive one, Miserix. But I’m afraid the plan simply does not have room for you… and I’m not just talking about your new size,” he added dryly.

Miserix’s eyes flared at the Makuta of Karzahni. “Teridax’s plan will only result in your deaths, just as it already has.”

“So far, the only one causing deaths is you,” growled Chirox. “Once we’re through with you, that will no longer be the case.”

“Indeed,” hissed Gorast. “Let’s stop wasting time and finish him once and for all!”

“No!” 

The cry came from up above and the five gathered Makuta all looked up to see Krika descending to the ground to join them. Right behind him was Antroz, who dove in to attack the white-armored Makuta only to be flung back by the latter’s Mask of Repulsion.

“You don’t realize what is happening,” Krika said. “Teridax has gone mad with power. That quake we felt… that was caused by his new mask.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Icarax.

“I have seen the mask he now wears. Though I’ve only heard stories, I know that the Kanohi Nui is one of the strongest masks in existence… and that it was never meant to exist. No being in the universe can control the power it contains for long; eventually, Teridax will end up destroying himself with it, and take us with it.”

“Impossible!” Gorast snapped. “Makuta Teridax is the strongest among us. He is more than capable of controlling such power.”

Krika glared at her. “As ever, Gorast, your fanatic loyalty to Teridax and his plan blinds you. It blinds all of you.”

“You can preach all you want, Krika,” said Antroz as he got back to his feet. “But you are outnumbered. Even if Miserix is on your side, it is two against five. I will give you one last chance to reconsider where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalty is to the Great Spirit,” Krika said quietly. “As it should have been for all of us long ago.”

“Then you will die like all the others,” Gorast said as she brandished her claws. She moved to lunge at Krika only to be knocked back by a blast of shadow energy. To the others’ surprise, Icarax stepped over to stand beside Krika, spinning his Shadow Blades.

“Make that three against four,” the Makuta of Karzahni said.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Antroz muttered. “You were never in support of the Plan, were you?”

“Not so much the plan itself so much as Teridax’s methods,” Icarax replied. “If our leader has so much power in his hands, then there is no point in putting the endgame off any longer. After seventy thousand years, I am quite through with waiting.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Gorast shrieked. “All three of you will die then! If not at my hands, then at Teridax’s!”

“Enough of this,” Miserix rumbled as he rose from the ground. “I am sick of watching you squabble like kinloka over the last morsel of food.”

Before any of the other Makuta could stop him, Miserix sent them all flying back with a powerful cyclone. He then set his eyes on the base of the Coliseum and attacked, unleashing all of his powers upon it.

*  *  *

Time was a funny thing.

It could never be seen, never be touched, yet its effects could always be felt. Every moment — even the smallest of seconds — was crucial, especially when you were a Toa up against the most evil being in the universe.

Toa Lesovikk had learned this the hard way when he had lost his team to the Zyglak. The briefest of hesitations was all it took for the Zyglak to destroy Nikila and the others. It was from that point forward that he had sworn from ever calling himself a Toa again. But as fate would have it, here he was leading a team once more, going up against only the second power-hungry tyrant in as many hours. With the Makuta preparing to unleash all of his might on them, Lesovikk knew that he could not make the same mistake again.

He did not know if the Kanohi Vahi had been affected by Arctur’s mask power, as it was not being worn by anyone, but there was no time to dwell on that. Bringing out the Mask of Time, Lesovikk removed his own mask and replaced it with the Vahi. He could already feel its powers surging through him, giving his body a sharp jolt.

Makuta Teridax paused just as he was about to attack, his eyes narrowing. “The Mask of Time,” he growled. “So the mask maker was successful in creating it.”

“Yes,” Lesovikk replied. “And I’m sorry to disappoint you, Makuta, but you will not be using it for your diabolical plans as you had hoped.”

Teridax scoffed. “And just how do you — a mere Toa — hope to use it against me? You simply do not have the willpower necessary to control its power.”

“You underestimate me, Makuta. You underestimate all of us. That is why you will never win.”

Teridax’s face twisted into a sneer. “Prove it.”

Lesovikk closed his eyes as he activated the Mask of Time, just as a dark tendril of energy extended from Teridax’s chest. A temporal wave generated itself between the Toa and the Makuta, causing time around them to slow to a snail’s pace.

The Toa of Air tried to move only to realize that he couldn’t. The slowed passing of time was affecting not just Teridax but the six Toa Tenebrae as well. None of them would have been able to move fast enough out of the Vahi’s range to strike at Teridax before the Shadow Hand consumed them. Switching the mask itself off would have also been suicidal, as it would surely grab at least one of them and pull them into the Makuta’s body.

“No,” Lesovikk whispered to himself. He had failed his team again. He already watched Arctur die, and now the others’ fates were sealed as well, in addition to his own.

Before Lesovikk could think of what to do, he saw Makuta Teridax vanish in the blink of an eye, along with the rest of the Coliseum. Suddenly, the six Toa Tenebrae were back outside. A strong hand struck Lesovikk and knocked the Kanohi Vahi from his face. The Toa of Air looked up to see Taurrus before him, along with the Matoran, the Rahaga, and the two Order members.

“What was that for?” asked Seldaan. “Makuta is still in there!”

Taurrus said nothing as he pointed to the Coliseum. The Toa all turned in time to see the top tower of the Coliseum topple from its base, courtesy of the red dragon that had been attacking it. The remaining Makuta — now only six where there had once been many more — scattered to avoid the falling building, which crashed into the central arena. Before it fell, a large shape burst out from its walls and flew up into the air, suspending itself on giant black wings. The black, purple, and gold armored Makuta of Metru Nui glared down at the red dragon, rage filling his eyes.

“Miserix,” Teridax growled. “You should be dead.”

“And so should you, Teridax!” Miserix bellowed. “And once I’m through with you, you will be!”

With that, Miserix sprouted wings of his own and shot up towards Teridax. The two Makuta collided in midair, energies crackling from their bodies and clashing with each other.

“We have to do something about this,” said Varian. “If we don’t stop them, their sheer strength alone will destroy Metru Nui!”

“Maybe we can create a Toa Seal,” suggested Zaria. “There’s six of us, right?”

“Six of us, but only five different elemental powers,” muttered Orde. “And even then, mine haven’t fully recharged yet.”

“So we need a seventh Toa.” Zaria looked over to Viraka and Trinuma. “I don’t suppose you two know of any other Toa you can fetch?”

Before the Order agents could answer, a huge wave of water emerged from the direction of Ga-Metru, which some of the fleeing Makuta had been heading towards. A blue-armored figure could be spotted riding the wave, channeling her elemental powers via the spiked mace in her hands. As the Makuta scurried to escape the tidal wave, Toa Helryx brought the wave crashing down and flooded the area surrounding the Coliseum, submerging a number of the Makuta.

Helryx then used some of the existing water to propel over to where the Toa Tenebrae and the others were, landing in front of Lesovikk. She stopped to regard the Toa of Air before looking up to see Teridax and Miserix fighting.

“Well,” the Toa of Water muttered. “That’s an unexpected factor.”

“Helryx!” Viraka exclaimed. “I thought you were staying on Daxia?”

Helryx smiled. “And miss the fall of the Makuta? I don’t think so. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on the Shadowed One and his thugs.”

“Helryx, we need to create a Toa seal around Makuta Teridax,” Lesovikk said urgently. “It’s the only way we can stop him.”

“I find that very doubtful,” the leader of the Order said grimly. “With a mask like his, he could very well break through it.”

“Then we knock the mask off his face,” said Chiara. “How do we do that?”

Unbeknownst to the Toa, Makuta Miserix was already focusing on that part as he continued to clash with Teridax in the air above Metru Nui. Even as lightning coursed through his armor, Miserix managed to grab onto the sides of Teridax’s Kanohi Nui, though did not yet have the strength to tear it off.

“I was holding back the last time we clashed, Teridax,” the former Brotherhood leader growled. “I didn’t want to kill my greatest lieutenant; I thought for sure you would have realize the error of your ways. But then the others sided with you, leaving me outnumbered.”

Teridax said nothing, his red eyes blazing behind his obsidian mask.

“But now it’s just the two of us,” Miserix went on. “And this time, there will be no such thing as mercy!”

With a mighty roar, Miserix succeeded in ripping the Mask of Ultimate Power from Teridax’s face. The Makuta of Metru Nui lost his grip on his predecessor and he proceeded to plummet towards the ground, crashing into the fallen tower of the Coliseum.

The Toa wasted no time in making their move. The Toa Tenebrae (sans Orde), along with Helryx, quickly moved over to where Teridax laid and joined their fists together. At once, their elemental powers shot out as a single beam of energy. Makuta Teridax did not move as solid protodermis slowly formed around his giant body, encasing it within a crystal. Once the seal was complete, the six Toa broke their formation to stop the energy beam.

Lesovikk dropped himself onto the ground, exhausted. Helryx leaned on her mace to stop herself from collapsing. The other Toa stood and marveled at the Makuta’s imprisoned form.

In the air above, Makuta Miserix regarded the Kanohi Nui in his hands. Something stirred deep within his mind, whispering for him to don the mask himself. He pushed such thoughts back into the depths of his self-consciousness and dropped the mask to the ground. Just as he was about to obliterate it with heat vision, Zaria caught the mask and held his hand up to the Makuta.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said. “Who knows what kind of destruction it would bring to destroy a mask like this.”

Miserix glared at the Toa before snorting. “Whatever. Just make sure it doesn’t fall back into the wrong hands.”

“Wait, Miserix,” Helryx weakly called out to him. “The other Makuta… we might need your help to—”

“They’re already gone,” Miserix snarled. 

Indeed, the flood that Helryx had created has since receded away, revealing no sign of the six Makuta that had been submerged beneath it. When everyone looked back up, Miserix’s body was already shimmering, teleporting away before anyone could stop him.

Lesovikk released his breath as he lowered himself onto his back, staring at the darkened sky above. “This has been a very long week.”