CHAPTER EIGHT
As a Ga-Matoran, Macku had no right to be afraid of water. But when she was being flown over the Silver Sea from several feet in the air within the clutches of a Makuta, she couldn’t help but feel an intense feeling of fear as she screamed for her life.
She shuttered her eyes, praying that when she opened them again, she would be back in Ga-Metru safe and sound. Instead, Makuta Vamprah took a dive and released his grip on her, sending her plummeting toward her certain doom.
Rather than plunge into water like she was expecting, Macku instead hit solid ground, grunting as she rolled from the momentum. She stopped with her back flat on the ground and, through her dizziness, she was able to make out two tall figures standing over her. One appeared to be a Makuta, clad in red and purple armor, while the other was a tall Vortixx in black and silver.
“Another one?” the former growled, exasperation prevalent in his voice. “The ones we have are already taking up enough space.”
“Clearly Makuta Vamprah sees value in this one,” said the Vortixx. “Of course, if you don’t want her, then I will gladly bring her to my Visorak.”
“That won’t be necessary, Roodaka,” the Makuta said as he seized Macku’s arm and pulled her up. “The last thing I need is to see your rabid mutations running around and messing with things.”
As the Makuta dragged Macku away, the Ga-Matoran looked up to see Vamprah flying back in the direction of Metru Nui. Dread set into her heart as she realized where she was. Clearly drowning her in the Silver Sea wasn’t a good enough punishment and she loathed to think what the Makuta had in store for her instead.
The Makuta brought her to the central fortress that presided over the island of Destral and descended the stairwell that led into the dungeons. Darkness began to envelop Macku’s vision and she could barely see the path her captor was taking her on. The further the went, she better she could hear the rattling of chains and the groans of misery. She then heard the creak of a cell door before being roughly shoved inside. The door slammed shut behind her and the footsteps of the Makuta quickly receded away.
“Fantastic,” Macku grumbled as she massaged her arm, feeling sore from the Makuta’s tight grip. “This sure is shaping up to be a great plan.”
“Hello?” A voice weakly called out to her from the darkness. “Is someone there?”
Macku turned in the direction of the voice, barely able to make out the outline of another Matoran. “I take it I’m not the first one to be abducted,” she replied.
“I’m afraid not,” the other Matoran said grimly. “My name is Kongu.”
“Kongu,” Macku repeated the name. “I think I’ve heard of you. You’re a friend of Matau’s, aren’t you?”
“You know Matau? Is he all right?”
Macku shook his head. “No one’s seen him in some time. He was supposed to meet with me and other members of the resistance in Po-Metru, but he wasn’t there last time I was there.”
“It’s possible the Vahki Vorzakh got to him,” Kongu said quietly. “I’d been seeing lots of Le-Matoran ‘shamblers’ ever since Makuta Gorast took charge; lots more than usual.”
“How did you end up here?”
“I was heading for a rendezvous with Tamaru when Gorast swooped in and picked me up, bringing me here. She didn’t say anything to me or even to the Makuta outside.”
“Yeah, same with me,” Macku muttered. “The red Makuta outside even said there were others here, ‘taking up space’ as he put it.”
“Well, you’re the first I’ve seen so far,” said Kongu. “Great Spirit knows who or where the others are… or what the Makuta have planned for us.”
“I don’t think I want to find out. We need to get out of here.”
“Uh, and just how are we going to do that? There aren’t any windows or anything here. Just a big metal door, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t think either of us can open that thing.”
“Then we should have a plan for when the Makuta come back for us,” said Macku. “I’m not going to just sit around and wait for the Makuta to turn us into horrible freaks or… or whatever.”
“Well, I’m open to any ideas you may have because—”
Before Kongu could finish speaking, the ground shook violently, knocking both Matoran off their feet. As the ground continued to rumble, Macku grabbed onto the bars of the cell door to pull herself up, only for its rusted hinges to snap off from the violent quakes, allowing the door to swing open and fling Macku outside.
“Well,” Kongu said as he crawled out of the cell after her. “That’s one way to escape.”
* * *
Makuta Tridax grunted as sharp claws pressed down into his shoulders, pushing him deeper into the ground. He could feel the breath of the forty-foot tall dragon as it lowered its head to be face-to-mask with the Makuta of Nynrah, its fearsome maw stretching back to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“Where,” the red beast growled, “is Makuta Teridax?”
It was a voice Tridax had not heard in nearly 80,000 years, yet he recognized it all the same. “M-Miserix?”
“Answer me!” bellowed the former leader of the Brotherhood, pressing his claw further down onto Tridax’s chest.
“He-he’s not here!” Tridax gasped. “He’s… he’s in Metru Nui. You’ll probably find him at the Coliseum. That’s all I know, I swear!”
Miserix sneered at him. “You better be telling the truth, or else—”
He was cut off as he was struck in the back by a Rhotuka spinner, drawing out an annoyed roar from the Makuta. Pulling away from Tridax, Miserix turned to see Roodaka standing there with an army of Visorak spiders, all positioned to fire their spinners at him.
“You are not welcome here, Rahi,” said Roodaka, holding her Catcher Claws aloft in her hands. “Stand down now before we are forced to domesticate you.”
“I am no Rahi!” Miserix called upon his power of chain lightning to electrocute several of the Visorak, startling the others and prompting them to scatter. Roodaka attempted to summon them back to her only for Miserix to grab her by the neck and lift her up, pulling him close to his face.
“I could incinerate you here and now with no more than a single thought,” the dragon Makuta snarled to the Vortixx. “But, seeing as how you do not know me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and spare you… for now. Once I am through with Teridax, you and your Makuta masters will be forced to decide whether to side with me or against me. Whatever you choose, your choice will forever seal your fate.”
With that, he tossed Roodaka back to the ground before spreading his wings and taking off into the sky. Tridax watched as the massive dragon flew in the direction of Metru Nui before slowly rising from the pit Miserix had dug him into. The former Brotherhood leader’s arrival had dealt some damage to Destral, with portions of the main fortress having collapsed. He wouldn’t have been surprised if some of the prisoners had managed to get out.
But Tridax was not concerned about prisoners at the moment. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
As much as he hated to admit it, he needed to find Icarax.
* * *
“Mata Nui, where’s a lightstone when you need one?” Macku muttered as she fumbled around in the dark. Although she and Kongu had managed to break out (if only thanks to sheer luck), they were still stuck in the dungeons with hardly any light source nearby to illuminate their path. She tried retracing the path on which Makuta Tridax had taken her on to bring her here, but that simply resulted in her bumping into walls or into Kongu.
“What I would do to be an Onu-Matoran right about now,” she said quietly to herself.
She heard Kongu trip and fall over something, letting out a loud “Oof!” The Le-Matoran then said, “I think I’ve found the stairs!”
He grabbed Macku’s hand and pulled her in his direction. They walked up a few steps only for the stairs to stop right there. Macku could have sworn that there had been more when she had been brought down here.
Feeling around in the darkness, her hand fell into a crevice in the wall, where she found some kind of knob. Without thinking, she turned it and a row of lightstones lit up on either side of the room they had found themselves in. The light from the stones wasn’t strong, but it was enough for her and Kongu to finally see where they were.
In front of them was a small pedestal with six glowing colored stones placed on top of it. Kongu walked up to the pedestal and picked up a green stone, marveling it as he rolled it around in his hands.
“Toa stones,” he whispered. “Why would the Makuta be keeping Toa stones?”
Macku frowned as she stepped up to join him, retrieving a blue-colored stone from the pedestal. She was aware of the nature of these stones from what Toa Vhisola had once told her some time ago. Vhisola, Nuhrii, and the other Toa Metru had been given stones like these by Toa Lhikan, with directions to the Great Temple and instructions to place the stones within the Suva. This process was what had transformed Vhisola and the others into Toa… for all the good that had done.
Macku had never thought to ask how Lhikan had created those Toa stones, leaving her clueless as to how — or even why — the Makuta had their own on hand. Whatever their reasons were, though, they could not have been for anything good.
“Let’s take these,” Macku said, taking two of the other stones from the pedestal.
Kongu looked at her. “What good will these do for us?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’re better off in our hands than in the Makuta’s.”
“Fair point,” Kongu said as he took the remaining two Toa stones. He then reached up and broke off a lightstone from the wall, holding it in one hand while he carried the three Toa stones in his other arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
“Icarax!”
Tridax’s voice echoed throughout the Forbidden Section. The library of the Destral Fortress was a vast chamber filled with ancient carvings and stone tablets containing forbidden knowledge, typically involving sciences that went against the nature of the Great Spirit. The room was frequently visited by the likes of Mutran and Chirox, while the other Makuta — including Tridax himself — didn’t care much for immersing themselves with such things. Icarax, especially, loathed the library and considered it the most frivolous extension of the Brotherhood’s fortress.
Which was exactly why Makuta Teridax had assigned him to be the library’s keeper upon his return to power.
It was a petty move, which was probably the intention. Had it been any other Makuta who had betrayed him and usurped power, Teridax would have obliterated them without hesitation. But considering it had been Icarax of all people — someone who the other Makuta considered to be nothing more than an arrogant bully — then confining him to a fate he considered to be a fate worse than death was exactly the kind of punishment Icarax deserved for his actions. Even the Mask of Shadows, which Teridax had bestowed to him after acquiring the Kanohi Nui, did him little good in his present conditions.
Of course, Icarax’s possession of the Kanohi Kraahkan was the only reason Tridax was seeking him out in the first place. Otherwise, he would not have been giving him a single thought.
“Icarax!” Tridax called out again, stepping over broken tablets that had fallen from their shelves. “Where are you?”
A winged figure in crimson and black armor emerged from one of the aisles, stepping through the wreckage of the library as if it had always been in this state. His tired eyes glowed from the narrowed slits of the Mask of Shadows, regarding Tridax as if he was an obnoxious nuisance.
“What do you want?” the Makuta of Karzahni asked, his voice quiet and raspy.
“I need your help,” Tridax said. “Or, more specifically, I need your mask.”
“Ah. Of course,” Icarax said dryly. “Why else would you have come for me?”
“Miserix has returned,” Tridax went on. “He’s going after Teridax. I’m not sure how well that new mask of his is going to serve him.”
“And you think the Kraahkan will do him any good?” asked Icarax.
“I don’t know what I think,” Tridax snarled. “All I know is that we should make some kind of effort to aid Teridax lest he punishes us for not doing so.”
“And just why would Teridax accept my help? Or, better yet, why should I help him?”
“Think of it this way: If you help Teridax, then maybe — just maybe — he’ll give you a position that’s more dignifying than being a bookkeeper. If you don’t, then you’ll either remain a bookkeeper or be executed. The choice is yours.”
Icarax stared at Tridax for a moment. Then, a smile slowly crept onto the features of the Mask of Shadows.
“You know,” the Makuta of Karzahni said, “it would be nice to finally put this mask to good use.”
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