CHAPTER ELEVEN
Destral
By the time Macku and Kongu finally made it out of the dungeons, they stepped outside to find the Makuta Fortress under attack.
Emerging from ships that had reached the island’s coastline, a multitude of beings from various species were marching onto the shores and doing battle with the Makuta and their minions. Beams of energy zipped in every direction while glowing orbs bounced off the walls of the fortress and struck their target, whether they be Makuta, Rahkshi, or other. Many of the invaders resembled Toa, if twice as tall in some cases, while others looked like monsters just as frightening as the shadow warriors that they were crossing blades with.
For whatever reason, this assortment of beings had been brought together by a unifying desire to bring down the Empire of Makuta. And for that reason alone, Macku was in full support of them.
“Whoever called in the calvary, I’m giving a huge-big hug,” said Kongu. “Provided they aren’t covered in spikes or anything.”
Macku scanned the battlefield for a way to get off the island. As grateful as she was for these reinforcements, she knew it would not be safe for two Matoran to stick around for long. Spotting an unoccupied boat, she beckoned Kongu to follow her and the duo raced towards it, Toa stones in hand. Before they could get close to it however, a beam of energy struck the boat and caused it to explode into a million pieces. Macku and Kongu shielded their eyes as the shrapnel blew in their faces.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Landing in front of them was a Makuta in crimson and violet armor; the same one who had taken Macku in earlier. Gripping a spear laced with acid, Makuta Tridax glared at the two Matoran from behind his fearsome mask. Seeing the Toa stones in their hands, his eyes went wide.
“Where did you get those?”
“You had them in some kind of storage closet or whatever,” Kongu said, doing his best to keep fear out of his voice. “You should probably lock things up more tightly if you don’t want people getting to them.”
But the expression on Tridax’s face seemed to be of a more perplexed nature than anything else. It was as if he hadn’t even been aware that there were Toa stones in the fortress in the first place. Before the Makuta could question them any further however, a projectile zipped over the Matoran’s heads and struck Tridax in the chest, knocking him back. A tall, horned being in red and blue stepped into view, looking down at the Matoran from behind his crimson mask.
“Is it just the two of you?” Trinuma asked.
“Uh, that we know of,” Macku replied. “There might be other Matoran back at the fortress, but—”
“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry. We just need to find a way to get you out of here.” Trinuma ducked as a beam of heat vision shot over his head. He then aimed his Nynrah Ghost Blaster at the yellow-armored Rahkshi responsible and blasted it to pieces. “A safe way,” he muttered.
At that moment, Tridax stirred and was starting to get back onto his feet. Trinuma noticed this but did not appear to be that concerned. Instead, he directed his gaze to a four-armed giant that was cutting his way through hordes of Rahkshi and Visorak with his multi-bladed ax.
“Orkosan! I don’t suppose you’ve seen Viraka anywhere?”
“She went on a mission to Saevta,” the giant growled back. “And before you ask, no, we don’t have any of them on hand.”
“Well then, how are we going to get these Matoran to safety?”
“I don’t know. Find a Dark Hunter or something.”
Trinuma grimaced. “Wonderful.”
Tridax let out a roar as he charged towards the horned warrior. He dodged another projectile from Trinuma’s blaster before lunging at the Order agent, spear raised over his head. Before he could bring his weapon down, a bladed object flew through the air and sliced right through the Makuta’s weapon arm, severing it from the rest of his body.
As Tridax howled in agony, green gases started to leak from his armor. He fell to his knees just as a ten-foot-tall being arrived on the scene and picked up his dagger from the floor.
“I’ll take it from here,” Tobduk said in a low rumble.
Trinuma sighed. “I’m really going to have to carry these two myself, aren’t I?”
Tobduk shrugged. “Helryx gave you that kinetic weaponry for a reason, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just for you to do tricks in the air.”
Rolling his eyes, Trinuma stored his weapons before kneeling down in front of Macku and Kongu. The two Matoran exchanged a glance before climbing onto the nine-foot-tall being’s back.
“You sure you’ve got this handled?” Trinuma asked Tobduk once the Matoran had settled into an appropriate position.
“Please,” Tobduk replied, grinning sadistically as Tridax tried and failed to contain his essence. “I was made for this.”
With a shrug, Trinuma activated his kinetic attachments and took off into the air, heading in the direction of Metru Nui as the combined forces of Dark Hunters and the Order of Mata Nui continued to wage their war across Destral.
The Coliseum
“Don’t be a coward, Teridax! Come out here and fight me!”
The roar of Makuta Miserix could be heard throughout the Coliseum, which the red dragon was tearing apart piece by piece. The entire building was beginning to sway, as if the weight of the beast outside was threatening to push it down.
Turaga Lhikan wasn’t sure if such a thing was possible, and he had no desire to find out. He looked over to Turaga Dume, who stood with him by the throne of Makuta Teridax. The Makuta of Metru Nui himself was still and silence, unfazed by the chaos happening around him.
“We have to get out of here,” Lhikan whispered to his fellow Turaga. “We should find the Matoran guards and get them out of here before this building collapses on us.”
“How do you know he won’t try to stop us as soon as we make a move?” Dume retorted, gesturing at Teridax.
Lhikan glanced at the Makuta. If he was eavesdropping on the Turaga’s conversation, he was not showing any sign of being interested or concerned with it. It was as if he was off in his own little world, oblivious to everything else.
“I don’t,” Lhikan eventually admitted. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing while Matoran lose their lives. If you want to stay here and remain Makuta’s slave, be my guest.”
With that, Lhikan started to walk away from Makuta’s throne, walking briskly and with purpose. Makuta did not shift in his throne or make any move to stop him, nor did Lhikan stop to see if he or Dume were following him. By the time he got to the door, he heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Dume coming up behind him.
“Turaga or not,” Dume muttered, “you are still as stubborn as the Toa of Fire I once knew not so long ago.”
Lhikan allowed himself a smile. “Old habits die hard.”
* * *
Makuta Antroz hurled another bolt of shadow energy at the massive dragon that was clinging onto the Coliseum. Like all previous attacks of the sort, it did little damage to the beast and instead earned Antroz a swing of the dragon’s tail, which he narrowly avoided.
This confirmed in Antroz’s mind that this dragon was, indeed, Makuta Miserix as it had claimed. How Miserix had survived execution at the hands of Krika and Spiriah, he had no idea; in fact, the more he thought about it, the more he started to wonder if Krika had followed his orders through to begin with. But there was no time to dwell on such things as Miserix raised a hand and fired a beam of energy from his palm.
Antroz dodged the attack while Gorast and Vamprah moved in to attack the dragon from above. While they kept Miserix occupied, Antroz shifted his attention to the Coliseum itself. He wasn’t sure why Teridax had not yet emerged from hiding to handle Miserix himself, but he figured the Makuta of Metru Nui was simply biding time for the right moment to strike. Or maybe he was counting on the other Makuta to finish off the former Brotherhood leader themselves.
Either way, Antroz centered his gaze on a piece of the Coliseum that Miserix was holding onto and activated his Mask of Corruption. The solid protodermis making up the building quickly started to decompose and it disintegrated in Miserix’s hands, causing him to lose his grip and nearly fall off the side of the building. Grabbing onto another part of the Coliseum to hold onto, Miserix glared up at Antroz, even as the Makuta continued to attack him.
“You will all pay dearly for this betrayal,” the dragon growled.
“You should have stayed dead, Miserix,” Antroz said darkly. “You have only earned yourself a fate worse than death.”
Miserix laughed without mirth. “Nothing can be worse than spending an eternity on that accursed island. Do what you may to me, but only after I have destroyed Teridax once and for all!”
Antroz narrowed his eyes as he prepared to use his mask again… but something was giving him pause. What was this about an island that Miserix was talking about? Had Krika indeed failed to kill the Brotherhood leader? If so, why had Miserix been unable to escape on his own?
Unless… he had not been executed at all… but imprisoned.
As realization began to dawn on Antroz, Miserix opened his mouth and unleashed a power scream at his Makuta attackers, knocking them back. He then returned his attention to the Coliseum and resumed digging his claws through it.
“Come out, Teridax! Come out and face your doom!”
As the Makuta pressed on with their attacks, Antroz spotted a winged figure flying towards their position, coming from the direction of Destral. As they drew closer, Antroz recognized the Kanohi Kraahkan being worn on the newcomer’s face and instantly brandished his claws.
“Icarax! What are you doing here?”
“Tridax sent me to help,” Icarax replied, regarding his fellow Makuta balefully from behind the Mask of Shadows. “For whatever reason, he thinks this mask of mine will do some good against… whatever this is.” As he said this, Miserix swung his tail at Chirox and sent the bat-like Makuta flying into Vamprah. “Though I fail to see how.”
Antroz did as well but he decided it was best not to spend too long pondering the matter. “Go ahead and join in on the fight,” he said. “If anyone asks why I’m gone, tell them that I’ve gone to find Krika.”
“Oh?” Icarax raised an eyebrow. “Is he here?”
“If he is,” Antroz growled, “he won’t be for much longer.”
* * *
“Hey, Matoro?”
“Yeah, Hewkii?”
“What do those tablets say about how the Toa Mangai defeated the Kanohi Dragon?”
Matoro cleared his throat. “Well, for one thing, they had at least four Toa of Ice subduing it with their elemental powers.”
“Yeah,” Hewkii muttered. “That’s not happening here.”
The members of the Metru Nui Resistance, along with their newfound allies (Toa and otherwise), stood at the Ga-Metru entry-point to the Coliseum. The centerpiece of the Great City was being torn asunder by a massive red dragon while half a dozen Makuta flew around it, hurling their powers at the beast. According to Onepu and Whenua, the creature did not match any Rahi that had been documented in the Archives.
“Okay,” said Toa Zaria. “So do we help the Makuta in fighting this thing, or do we just wait for them to kill it? Or for it to kill them?”
“I’m perfectly fine with the latter option,” said Toa Arctur. “Who knows, maybe this beast is on our side.”
As he said this, a Shadow Hand burst from the dragon’s chest and seized one of the Makuta attacking it, pulling them towards it and absorbing the hapless Makuta into its body.
“Or maybe not,” Arctur muttered.
“None of us are qualified for something like this,” said Viraka. “Even the strongest members of the Order would not be able to handle so many Makuta at once. We need to go to Daxia and ask for reinforcements.”
“No need to, my winged friend.”
Everyone looked up to see a tall being descending from high up in the air. On his shoulders were two Matoran — a Ga-Matoran and a Le-Matoran — who quickly dismounted from the giant as soon as he had touched down.
“I am not doing that again,” Macku said as she wobbled on her feet.
“Macku!” Hewkii ran over to the Ga-Matoran and pulled her into a hug. Matau and Tamaru joined the Le-Matoran, Kongu, and clanked fists with him. Meanwhile, Viraka regarded the tall, horned being who had brought them with a look of surprise.
“Trinuma? What are you doing here?”
“Same reason as the rest of the Order,” Trinuma replied. “To bring down the Empire of Makuta once and for all.”
“I thought we didn’t have the numbers for that,” Viraka mused.
“We didn’t until Helryx managed to recruit the Dark Hunters to our side.” Trinuma then looked over to the battling Makuta. “Now then… what have we got here?”
“Too many Makuta than we know what to do with,” Toa Lesovikk said dryly.
“Ah. If only Tobduk wasn’t busy over on Destral; he’d probably be drooling from his mask.”
“Kongu and I found some Toa stones,” Macku said once she had finally broken free of Hewkii’s embrace. “I’m not sure what good they’ll do, if any.”
“We could take them back to the Suva at the Great Temple,” suggested Nokama. “Of course, the Coliseum will probably be in ruins by the time we get there.”
“Wait!” Takua pointed up ahead. “I see someone coming out of the Coliseum. I think it’s the Turaga!”
The others looked to see two hunched-over beings hobbling out of the doors to the Coliseum, flanked on either side by Matoran guards. Up above, the dragon broke off a piece of the building and sent it falling down towards them. Before the debris could crush the Turaga and the Matoran, Toa Arctur used his gravity powers to keep it suspended in mid air. Once the Turaga and Matoran had gotten out from under it, Arctur hurled the chunk of protodermis to the side, letting it crash into a nearby Vahki Transport.
“Turaga Lhikan! Turaga Dume!” Vakama rushed over to the elders. “Thank the Great Spirit you are all right.”
Turaga Lhikan smiled at the mask maker. “Likewise, Vakama. I am quite pleased to see you are safe and sound.”
“I’m not sure how long that’s going to last,” Vakama muttered, “but thank you.”
Turaga Dume stepped over to the Ta-Matoran, his expression serious. “The Mask of Time… were you successful in creating it?”
Vakama nodded. “Yes, Turaga, I was.”
“Then we have no time to waste. We must use it against the Makuta.”
“Use it how?” asked Lhikan. “We don’t know what it is capable of or whether a Toa will be strong enough to use it.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Toa Lesovikk approached Vakama and held out his hand for the Kanohi Vahi. “Give it to me.”
Dume gave him a look. “And just who might you be?”
“My name is Lesovikk. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” the Turaga interjected, his eyes blazing. “You were leader of the Toa Cordak. The same Toa Cordak who met their tragic end at the hands of the Zyglak due to a mistake on their leader’s part.”
Lesovikk glared down at the Turaga. “This really isn’t the time for this. We have a Makuta to bring down.”
“How can we be assured that you won’t make the same mistake again?” Dume asked pointedly. “How do we know that you aren’t simply leading us to your deaths.”
“Enough, Dume,” Lhikan said sternly. “These Toa may very well be our only hope in bringing an end to the Makuta once and for all. We must put our faith in them if we hope to save Metru Nui and the Matoran.” To Vakama, he said, “Give him the mask.”
Vakama hesitated for a moment before handing the Mask of Time to Lesovikk. Dume opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped himself, instead simply regarding both Lhikan and Lesovikk with a look of disapproval.
“All right, then,” Lesovikk said, turning to look up at Taurrus. “Take us into the Coliseum. The rest of you, stay out here and keep an eye on the other Makuta. Get to safety if you need to, but do not engage them for any reason.”
“And if they attack us?” asked Hahli.
Lesovikk glanced at Viraka and Trinuma. “Then I’m sure you’ll have what it takes to stand your ground.”
“Of course we do,” said Hewkii. “This is our city; we’ll do anything to defend it.”
Lesovikk offered a grim smile to the Po-Matoran before turning to join the other Toa Tenebrae. He gave a nod to Taurrus, who proceeded to wrap his arms around the seven Toa and teleport them away into the Coliseum.
Only the Great Spirit knew if any of them would be making it back.
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