BIONICLE: Defiance - An Orde Short Story

DEFIANCE

 Around four thousand years ago…

Orde, Toa of Psionics, groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His entire body felt weak, and by feeling his face he was able to tell that his Kanohi mask was missing. He tried to stand up, only for his head to hit something hard and metallic, and he slumped back down. Through his hazy vision, he discovered that he was surrounded by iron bars, and that the cage he was in was tight and small, making it impossible for him to stand.

Must be a prison made for Matoran, he said to himself. That thought brought forth a rush of memories, and he suddenly remembered what had brought him to this very moment.

“The Matoran,” he wheezed, his voice hoarse and rough. “Where… where are—”

“They are safe, thanks to your valiant efforts.” The voice, sardonic and sinister, seemed to come from a cloud of green that floated past the iron bars. “Unfortunately, those efforts didn’t do yourself any favors.”

Orde rubbed his eyes and he watched in astonishment as the cloud of green particles merged together to form a single figure. The Skakdi, clad in green and gold armor, grinned savagely at the Toa of Psionics as he stepped closer to the cage, red eyes blazing.

“How was your nap?” the Skakdi asked. “Apologies for your missing mask, by the way. My friend here has a certain… obsession.”

Orde’s eyes drifted and he saw that the Skakdi was not the only Dark Hunter in the room. Besides a brown-armored Skakdi of Stone sitting nearby with his arms and legs crossed, there was also a four-armed being with a belt wrapped around his chest. Lining the belt were a number of Kanohi masks, in all sorts of shapes and colors. In the Dark Hunter’s hands was Orde’s very own Kanohi Sanok.

The four-armed creature regarded the mask with a look of confusion. “Mask of Accuracy… nice to have one, but isn’t it kind of redundant? I thought Psionics types could—”

“Shut up and enjoy your souvenir, Collector,” the Skakdi snapped at him.

Collector glared at his fellow Dark Hunter as he attached the mask to a place on his belt. “I don’t need attitude from you, Snake. At least I’m in better standing with the Shadowed One than you….”

Orde noticed the green Skakdi bristle from the comment, the particles making up his form briefly convulsing. Closing his eyes, Orde tried to muster some elemental energy to at least get a read of the room and his captors, but the lack of his mask as well as the headache he was starting to feel made that a near-impossible task.

Instead, he decided to retrace his steps, hoping to find some solution to his current predicament by recalling how he had gotten into this situation in the first place.

About a week ago, a number of Matoran—at least a dozen or so—had gone missing from an island close to the one he and his team were operating on. At the request of the local Turaga, they had gone in search of the Matoran and eventually found them in the captivity of the Dark Hunters, who were planning on selling them to a Steltian slaver in exchange for weapons stolen from the Xians. Orde and his team had moved in then and there, figuring the odds were in their favor as they outnumbered the Dark Hunters six to four. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been accounting for three of the Dark Hunters to be Skakdi, and for one of them to have the ability to project mental blasts. 

Orde had taken the brunt of the attack, and was able to withstand the worst of it thanks to his mental shielding. However, because it had caught him off-guard, it had allowed one of the other Skakdi—the green one, Snake—to attack him with his laser vision, hitting him and knocking him to the ground. The rest had become a blur as something or someone had pulled his mask off his face, weakening him before hitting him with another mental blast. Then, all had went dark.

As it was, he had no idea where the rest of his team were or what had became of the Matoran. Snake had said that they were safe, but he was not about to take a Dark Hunter for their word. Perhaps once he had mustered enough energy, he could read one of their minds and figure out a way to escape.

Suddenly, there was a loud sound as a door slammed open and a crimson-armored Skakdi came storming into the room. “Zaktan! I’ve been looking for you! Just got a message from a courier and—”

“Quiet, Hakann,” snarled the green Skakdi. “You know how Avak feels about loud noises.”

The red Skakdi frowned as he looked over to his brown counterpart. “Huh? Since when did—”

“Have you guys forgotten your codenames?” growled Collector. “It’s Snake, Trigger, and Bully. Just like I am Collector.”

Hakann rolled his eyes. “Those names are awful, and you know it. Only reason we call you by your codename is because you won’t give us your real one.”

“I’m not supposed to! It’s supposed to be top secret, right?”

“Then why does Lariska go by her real name? Or Triglax, for that matter?”

Collector frowned, appearing to be genuinely perplexed by the question. “Because… because, uh….”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zaktan snapped. He then seemed to think for a moment as he stared at Orde. He then glanced at Collector and asked, “Do you have any elemental masks? Such as, say, a Mask of Psionics, perhaps?”

“Eh… those are pretty rare.” Collector went through his collection before removing a Kanohi Komau. “How about a Mask of Mind Control?”

“Close enough.” Zaktan took the mask from his fellow Dark Hunter and attached it to his face. As it fused on, Collector regarded him with a confused expression.

“I thought most Skakdi didn’t have the mental discipline to use masks….”

Zaktan chuckled. “I am not most Skakdi.”

Suddenly, Orde felt a pang of agony and he cried out as a voice pierced his mental shield.

Tell us where to find Turaga Barresh.

Orde’s eyes went wide as he registered the name of the Turaga who had asked for his team’s help. “Why… why do you want to know?” he managed to say.

Tell us where to find him, Zaktan repeated in his mind, with more force.

“No.” Orde closed his eyes and took in a breath as he felt his mental barriers rebuild themselves. “I don’t think I will.”

Zaktan tried again to break through his barriers but to no avail. Growling with frustration, he tore off the Kanohi Komau and threw it carelessly to the ground, causing Collector to gasp.

“Careful! You’ll scuff it!”

“Do you have a Mask of Telepathy?” Zaktan growled.

While Collector retrieved the Kanohi Komau, Hakann spotted a Kanohi Suletu on his belt and took it, handing it over to Zaktan. The Skakdi attached it to his face and Orde immediately felt the Dark Hunter’s mind infiltrate his own, scanning his mind for the information he sought. Still, even as weak as he was, the Toa of Psionics’ mental fortitude was too strong for Zaktan to break and the Skakdi of Air ended up tearing the Mask of Telepathy from his face, throwing it back at Collector.

“I see how it is,” Zaktan snarled. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to break you. Even if it takes a hundred years… we’ll find a way.”

With that, the green Dark Hunter dissolved into a cloud of protodites and flew through the door Hakann had just opened. Hakann then looked at Orde with a savage grin, before hitting him with a mental blast that knocked the Toa of Psionics back into unconsciousness.

*  *  *

The hours stretched into days. Every other hour, the Dark Hunters would wake up Orde and interrogate him, using every method they had at their disposal. Each time, Orde forced them out of his mind whenever they tried to pierce it, and he was able to withstand Hakann’s mental blasts. At worst, said blasts would simply knock him out, and they would repeat the process all over again.

A normal Toa probably would have been broken by now. But Orde did not see himself as normal by any means.

Still, by the fifth day, he felt that he was at his limit. Without his mask, he was unable to recharge his elemental powers fully, and each time they were depleted by the Dark Hunters’ interrogation sessions, they recharged with less amount than the session before. Pretty soon, he would run out of energy entirely and he would end up either going mad or giving away the information his captors sought.

He still wasn’t sure what exactly they wanted with Barresh. He knew that the Turaga had once been a member of the Toa Valmai, the same team that had saved Mata Nui during the Great Disruption, but beyond that he knew nothing else of note regarding Barresh. It was possible they only wanted his location from Orde, but that didn’t tell him what they wanted the Turaga for.

He thought back to the dozen Matoran the Dark Hunters had captured from Turaga Barresh’s land. Had they simply been using them for trade? Or were they trying to hold them for ransom in order to extort whatever they wanted from Barresh?

On the morning of the fifth day, the door opened and Zaktan stormed in with Collector close behind him. The protodites making up Zaktan’s body swirled as he got up to the cage and grabbed the bars, glowering at the Toa within.

“I’m getting tired of this game, Toa,” the Skakdi growled.

“That makes two of us,” Orde muttered back.

“There’s only two ways this is going to end,” Zaktan went on, brandishing his triple-bladed sword. “Either you give us the information we want, in which case we let you go… or you die. Plain and simple.”

“And here I was hoping for you to be a bit more creative,” Orde replied. “I’m not telling you anything, so I guess that doesn’t leave you with much choice.”

Zaktan sneered. “You’re the one who has a choice to make here, Toa. Life or death.”

“I’ve already made my choice. Have you?”

Zaktan bristled from the Toa’s words before spinning on his heel to face Collector. “Masks. Now.”

With a sigh, Collector started to hand him a Kanohi Suletu when Hakann suddenly burst through the door, causing Avak to jump and curse.

“Zaktan!” the crimson Skakdi cried. “The Toa! They’ve found us!”

“What?!” Cursing to himself, Zaktan threw the mask to the ground before taking a Mask of Summoning from Collector’s belt. “Fine. Let’s deal with them and get this over with.”

He then attached the mask to his face before dispersing into a cloud of protodites, with Hakann running after him. For a moment, Collector simply stood there before starting for the door as well.

“Hey!” Avak snapped. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

“I don’t want Snake ruining my mask,” Collector replied. “I fought hard for that Zatth!”

Ignoring Avak’s continued protests, the four-armed hunter ran through the door, leaving the brown Skakdi alone with the captive Toa. Sighing to himself, Avak got up and walked over to the cage, striking the bars to make a sound wave that worsened Orde’s headache.

“I still don’t think you’re worth the hassle,” the Skakdi of Stone muttered. “I don’t see why we can’t just use one of your friends instead. I’m sure they would break a lot easier….”

As Avak returned to where he had been sitting, Orde closed his eyes and grabbed onto one of the bars, pressing his head against it as he tried to ignore the ringing and the pounding headache. While the Dark Hunters had been bickering, Orde had been able to muster up enough energy to call upon his elemental powers, even despite the pain in his head. Focusing on Avak, he tried to be as discreet as possible as he perused the surface of the Skakdi’s minds, picking up on his present emotions and feelings.

Not to his surprise, the Skakdi was feeling frustration from having been practically abandoned by his teammates. Looking past that, Orde was also able to pick up on a sense of concern. Recalling that Zaktan had said something about Avak being sensitive to loud noises, he tried to search deeper for something regarding that but found nothing from a cursory perusal. It also didn’t add up with the fact that Avak had just created a loud noise himself moments ago by banging the bars of the cage. Unless Zaktan had been lying about that… but for what? To cover up something he didn’t want Orde to know?

At that moment, Avak yawned as he sat back down, and that was when it all came together. Zaktan, Hakann, and Collector had all come and gone over the course of the last five days, yet Avak had stayed in the room throughout all that time. At first Orde figured he was simply standing guard, but then why hadn’t they exchanged shifts? Why hadn’t Hakann taken a turn at watching him, or Collector for that matter?

Orde had heard the stories about the Skakdi; about how they had been experimented on by a member of the Brotherhood of Makuta and given powers that they did not have originally. Each power was unique to that particular Skakdi; Hakann’s was mental blasts, Zaktan’s was laser vision, and Avak’s….

Suddenly, there was a massive quake and Avak cried out in alarm as he was knocked out of his seat. As he fell to the ground, the prison around Orde instantly vanished and he was able to stand to his full height. Immediately, he dove for the Kanohi Suletu that Zaktan had dropped earlier and attached it to his face, his body convulsing as his energy was fully restored. He then turned to Avak, who was getting back onto his feet and raising his Seismic Pickaxe. A burst of mental energy knocked the Skakdi into unconsciousness.

As he started to make a run for the doorway, the walls of the hallway outside suddenly came down. Orde stopped in his tracks and braced himself for a fight. Then, a brown-armored figure poked their head in.

“Orde!” the Toa of Stone exclaimed. “Thank the Great Spirit you’re alive!”

Orde allowed himself to relax as he smiled at his teammate. “It’s good to see you, Ishira. Was that you that caused the quake?”

Ishira smiled sheepishly. “I did tell you that Mask of Earth would come in handy one day. I don’t care how redundant people may say it is; Stone and Earth are still separate elements!”

Orde chuckled as he patted his sister on the back. The two of them then stepped through the rubble and emerged outside of the Dark Hunters’ hideout. Right away, he saw the rest of his team locked in combat with the remaining three Dark Hunters. Sora was making a whirlwind out of Zaktan’s protodites while Nakano drenched Hakann with a stream of water. Meanwhile, Vestara and Kopri were locked in combat with Collector, barraging the four-armed Dark Hunter with fire and ice.

It was clear that the Dark Hunters were outnumbered and overwhelmed. Zaktan seemed to realize this as he managed to get his protodites out of Sora’s whirlwind and reconstituted his body atop the rubble of their hideout.

“You win this day, Toa!” the Skakdi snarled. “Collector, get Hakann so we can get out of here!”

Collector grunted in acknowledgment as he broke away from the two Toa he was fighting and charged towards Nakano. The Toa of Water saw him coming and managed to flip out of the way with the aid of his Mask of Fate. Collector ignored him as he grabbed the drenched Hakann before running back towards where Zaktan was.

“Let them go,” Orde said just as his teammates were able to take pursuit. “So long as the Matoran are safe, then our fight with them is over. The last thing we need is a war with the Dark Hunters.”

“They’re just going to cause us more trouble,” Vestara muttered, resting her Inferno Sword on her shoulder as they watched the Dark Hunters flee.

“Maybe so. But that’s just the life of being a Toa, isn’t it?” As Orde met the eyes of a glaring Zaktan, the Toa of Psionics said, “Come on. Let’s get back to Kora Nui.”

*  *  *

“You know I do not take kindly to failure.”

Zaktan stared defiantly at the Shadowed One, who sat atop his throne. Behind him, Hakann and Avak tensed with fear while Collector fidgeted nervously with his masks.

“I may not have the Turaga,” Zaktan said, “but I have a location: Kora Nui.” He had overheard the Toa mention the name while he and the others were retreating.

The Shadowed One glowered at him, eyes flashing. “If you have a location, then you would have the Turaga as well… and with him, the Nui Stone.”

“You’re going to need more than four Dark Hunters to get your precious rock,” Zaktan snapped back. “The Turaga has at least six Toa at his beck and call, and I have no doubt he can call upon more if we were to make an overt effort to strike the island.”

The Shadowed One continued to glare at him but seemed to consider his words. “Very well,” he finally said. “Perhaps this is indeed an operation that will require more… strategic thinking. Still, I don’t want to delay things too long, lest the Toa catch on to what it is we’re after and make efforts to keep the Nui Stone further out of our reach.”

Zaktan nodded, and waited tensely for the Shadowed One to say anything further. Eventually, the leader of the Dark Hunters relaxed in his throne and motioned to the four Dark Hunters.

“You are dismissed. You will be summoned again once I have formulated a plan.” The Shadowed One’s eyes flashed dangerously. “If,” he emphasized, “I decide you will be a part of it.”

With a stiff nod, Zaktan turned and swiftly departed from the chamber, with Hakann, Avak, and Collector close behind. As soon as they were outside of the Shadowed One’s sight, Hakann stepped closer to Zaktan to whisper into his ear.

“That was too close,” the red Skakdi growled. “One of these days, Zaktan, your defiance is going to get us all killed!”

Zaktan smiled. “You need to know how to play the game, Hakann. It’s a game of balance; for every moment of defiance, there must be at least one of obeisance. So long as you maintain that balance, you will keep your enemies’ trust and you will be able to reach your goal.”

Hakann narrowed his eyes. “And just what is your goal?”

“Now, Hakann, that’s the second most important rule of the game.” Zaktan grinned wickedly at his fellow Skakdi. “Never give away your hand, even to those closest to you.”

*  *  *

“That is quite the story,” Turaga Barresh said over the sounds of the crackling fire. “Still, I am glad you are alive and well, and you were able to rescue the Matoran.”

“Indeed,” Orde said, arms folded over his chest. He stared at the fire and did not meet the Turaga’s gaze right away, debating with himself over whether or not to voice the questions weighing on his mind. Taking a deep breath, he decided to give in to his own pressure. “Would the Dark Hunters have a reason for kidnapping so many Matoran?”

Barresh eyed him carefully, leaning on his staff. “I thought it was to sell them in exchange for illegal weapons.”

“That’s what I thought to, but I think there was more to it than that.” Orde paused, hesitating to speak the next words. “When I was being interrogated, the Dark Hunters demanded to know where you were. I think they were trying to get to you, and they were going to use the Matoran as ransom.”

A dark cloud fell over Barresh’s blue-green mask. “Is that right?” he said quietly.

“Is there anything you have or know that the Dark Hunters would try to extort out of you?” Orde asked.

Barresh was silent at first, staring at the fire. Then, with a sigh, he said in almost a whisper, “Have you heard of the Nui Stone?”

Orde frowned. “I’ve heard of the legends….”

“It’s not just a legend. It’s real. After my time with the Toa Valmai, I came here to Kora Nui where I met the then-current guardian of the Nui Stone. He told me of what it was capable of and the danger it posed, and I promised to watch over it, as he was not long for this world. To prove that I would not be corrupted by its power, I sacrificed my power and became a Turaga, before ensuring the Nui Stone was kept in a safe place.”

“Do the Dark Hunters know you have the Nui Stone?”

Barresh sighed. “Rumors spread, and I have a bad habit of recounting my experiences as tall tales for the Matoran. It was perhaps inevitable that word would eventually get out.” The Turaga paused before looking up at Orde. “You know, it has been a long time since Kora Nui has had a dedicated Toa team. You and your team would be graciously welcomed as its new protectors.”

Orde smiled sadly. “Thank you, Turaga, but I’m afraid my team won’t be around for much longer. Vestara has recently received an offer from the Brotherhood of Makuta to serve as one of their Toa Hagah. Ishira, Kopri, and Sora want to return to their homelands. And I believe Nakano is considering retiring and perhaps even passing on his Toa Power himself. Maybe the Toa he will create will serve as the Toa Kora. But it won’t be us, I’m afraid.”

“I understand,” Barresh nodded. “You know, I must admit, I have never met a male Toa of Psionics before. Or a female Toa of Fire, for that matter.”

Orde smirked. “You’re not the only one. I remember there being a time where female Ta-Matoran and male Ga-Matoran weren’t exactly as rare or uncommon as they are now. But ever since Metru Nui pushed for its own standardization… well, it wasn’t long before the other Turaga followed suit when it came to creating new Matoran.”

“Hmm. Well, if the duty ever falls to me to bring more Matoran into existence, I will see what I can do about defying standards,” Barresh said with a wink.

Orde smiled back at him before looking up wistfully towards the stars. “Believe me, Turaga,” he murmured. “Defying standards is practically second nature to me….”

BIONICLE: Faux - Conclusion

FAUX: CONCLUSION

  Roodaka stayed close to the shadows with her pet mutation, watching as Hydraxon battled the five Dark Hunters. Spinner was already out for the count, having been encased in ice caused by a Kanoka disk Gatherer had fired at Hydraxon and missed. Feraka, the Skakdi of Iron, had gone into a rage, charging at the jailer only to miss each and every time. Eventually, Triglax had gotten fed up with her and knocked her out with a Rhotuka spinner before going after Hydraxon himself, while he was locked in combat with Vanisher.

She narrowed her eyes as she regarded Triglax’s current form with disdain. Although it had been over a thousand years, she remembered the Rahi Keetongu well, having battled him during the final clash between the Visorak Horde and the Toa Hordika. While he had been useful in getting rid of that fool Sidorak, he was not a creature Roodaka was keen on seeing ever again, even if it was simply a form being used by a shape-shifting Dark Hunter.

Triglax charged at Hydraxon, spinning the rotating shields that Keetongu was known to wield. At the last minute, Vanisher teleported away, giving Triglax the opening he needed to strike Hydraxon with his weapon. The jailer grunted as he fell to his knees, and Triglax hit him again to bring him down to the ground, before pinning him in place with his foot.

Roodaka smiled to herself as she stepped out again from the shadows. She had definitely gotten her money’s worth by hiring these Dark Hunters. She had worried that her history of having been a double agent between them and the Brotherhood of Makuta during their war would have caused some friction between them (let alone them trying to kill her), but with the Shadowed One missing in action and the new world being as it was, a select few of them were at least willing to let bygones be bygones so long as it meant employment.

As she began to circle around the defeated Hydraxon, she raised her Rhotuka launcher and prepared to generate a new spinner. She was still torn between mutating the jailer and outright killing him. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to do one before doing the other.

“A valiant effort,” she said to her fallen foe. “But unfortunately, I’m afraid the fun must come to an end.”

Roodaka raised her launcher and was about to fire the Rhotuka when suddenly the mutated Defilak lunged at her, landing atop of her back. The Vortixx cried out in surprise as she fired the spinner, which missed Hydraxon and instead hit Triglax. The Dark Hunter let out a sound of agony as the effects of the spinner began to twist and mutate his form, giving Hydraxon the window he needed to get out from under his foot and shove him to the ground. He then charged towards Roodaka, colliding into her and tackling her to the ground along with Defilak.

While the mutated Le-Matoran managed to roll away, Hydraxon kept Roodaka pinned to the ground as he pressed the barrel of his Cordak Blaster against her head.

“There are two ways you can get out of this,” the jailer growled. “My way, or the hard way. Only one ends with your continued existence.”

Roodaka snarled as she tried to wrest herself free from Hydraxon’s hold to no avail. Finally, she gave up and let her body go slack. “Fine. You win.”

Hydraxon grabbed the arm that had her Rhotuka launcher and forced her to aim it at Defilak. “Undo his mutation. Now. Or you’ll be going back to New Atero in a tub of pieces.”

Roodaka continued to glare at him as she fired her Rhotuka. Within seconds, the hideous green creature was transformed back into a Le-Matoran. Defilak patted himself down and felt his mask before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank Mata Nui. I never want to go through that again.”

“Right.” Hydraxon started to rise to his feet and pull Roodaka up along with him. “Now, how are we going to—”

What happened next was a blur. Out of nowhere, Vanisher materialized beside Hydraxon and struck him with his spear, causing him to lose his grip on Roodaka. Before he could retaliate, a portal started to open in the ground beneath them and Hydraxon nearly fell in before his reflexes took a hold and he backflipped out of its width, making sure to grab Defilak so that the Le-Matoran did not plummet as well. The two of them then watched as Roodaka fell into the portal, with Vanisher pulling in the frozen Spinner, the mutated Triglax, and the other two Dark Hunters. He then spared a glance at Hydraxon and Defilak, offering them a sardonic wave before flying into the portal as well. Then it closed and all was quiet.

For a long time, Hydraxon and Defilak simply stood there in silence, staring at the spot where their enemies had once been, unsure as to how to process what had just happened. Eventually, Defilak let his gaze wander and his eyes eventually fell on the crashed Axalara.

“I don’t suppose we can quick-fix that to get us flying anytime soon,” he murmured.

“You do have a way with machines,” Hydraxon replied. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

Defilak nodded before doing a double take and looking up at the larger being in surprise. “Wait. How do you know that about me?”

Hydraxon looked down at the Le-Matoran, and for the first time in forever, offered a genuine smile.

“We have a lot to catch up on… old friend.”

*  *  *

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” Dekar said. He sat on the shore of his homeland, a distant memory now yet nonetheless comforting in the nostalgia it gave him. In the distance, he could hear Sarda and Idris bantering while Defilak tried to barter with a customer.

“There is no turning back now.” Sitting beside him was the black and silver form of Hydraxon, staring out at the silvery sea. “The decision you have made will be final.”

“I know.” Dekar laid back on the sand, resting his head on his arms. “I never make a decision that I think I will regret.”

Hydraxon glanced at him. “Even when you tried to destroy the Mask of Life?”

“I meant what I said.”

Hydraxon continued to stare at him before shrugging his shoulders. “So be it. Your destiny is what you chose to make of it.”

“It’s not about destiny for me,” Dekar said. “It’s about doing what I feel is right.”

“The two may not be as mutually exclusive as you may think.”

Dekar considered those words for a moment. “Maybe,” he finally said. “I suppose we’ll just have to find that out for ourselves.”

Smiling to himself, Dekar closed his eyes and welcomed the sleep that came.

*  *  *

“So… what do we name-call you now? Hydraxon? Dekar?” Defilak paused for a moment. “Dekar-Hydraxon? Please don’t pick that one.”

“I think I’ll stick with Hydraxon for now,” the former Po-Matoran replied. “My memories as Dekar are still… foggy at best. I’m still going to need time to find myself… but I think I’m off to a good start.”

The two of them walked through what stood so far of New Atero, still in the long process of construction. Among the mixed crowds of Matoran and Agori, a Ga-Matoran came running out, followed closely by an Onu-Matoran. Kyrehx was the first to reach Defilak as she pulled the Le-Matoran into a hug.

“Defilak! Thank the Great Spirit, you’re safe!” She then pulled away and looked up at Hydraxon. “Thank you so much for rescuing him and the others. I promise you that I’ll make sure you’re paid the rest of what was promised.”

Hydraxon shook his head. “There’s no need for that, Kyrehx. The debt has already been repaid in full.”

The Ga-Matoran blinked in surprise. “Wait… how do you know my name? I never gave it to you….”

Defilak chuckled. “Kyrehx, Gar, you two are in for quite the story. We’ll need to quick-find Sarda and the others so we can tell them as well.”

Gar frowned as he looked between the Le-Matoran and his tall companion. “Tell us what?”

Defilak smiled. “That we’ve found an old friend.”

*  *  *

“Where am I?” Roodaka scrambled in the darkness, looking for answers. “Where have you taken me?”

Only silence answered her demands. She caught a glimpse of Vanisher as he teleported around the chamber and she went after him, following the traces of energy he left behind. She eventually reached a wide stone chamber that was lit only by torches hanging on the wall. She scanned the room and her eyes eventually landed on a vacant throne placed at the other side of the room. She then looked just to the left of the throne and saw a very familiar, very loathsome face.

“You,” she growled.

Vezon raised a hand and waved weakly. She expected him to offer some pithy remark but the half-Skakdi was silent, uncharacteristically subdued. It was then she realized that he was actually chained up the wall, with minimal range for movement. Before Roodaka could figure out what he was doing in such a condition, she heard another voice come from behind her—one that was also familiar as well as the last thing she wanted to hear.

“Do you like what I have done to the place so far?”

Roodaka whirled around to see the Shadowed One, leader of the Dark Hunters, standing before her. At his side was his loyal servant Sentrakh while in the shadows above lurked the one known as Darkness.

“I’ll admit, it’s not much,” the Shadowed One went on. “But I’ve always considered myself something of a minimalist.” He nodded to the chained-up Vezon. “I have made a few… decorations, of course.”

At that moment, Vanisher appeared at his side and dropped to one side, bowing his head. The Shadowed One smirked as he bid the hunter to rise.

“You have done well, Vanisher. For so long, I had suspected you of being an agent of the Brotherhood like Roodaka here, but you have since proven your worth by bringing her to me.”

Roodaka scowled. “It makes no difference, for there is no Brotherhood for him to be loyal to anymore.”

The Shadowed One shrugged. “Perhaps. Which is all the more reason for you to swear your undying loyalty to me.”

Roodaka narrowed her eyes, keeping her eyes on the Shadowed One while she weighed her options. She had no idea where she was, so there was little chance she would be able to escape… and that was without accounting for the fact that either the Shadowed One or one of his minions would catch her before she could even leave the room.

Instead, she decided to stall by asking questions. “What exactly is it you have planned here? World domination?”

The Shadowed One smiled. “Something like that. Although Vezon here has given me access to something I’ve never had access to before. Something even I could never dream of.”

“Enough riddles, old man,” Roodaka snarled. “Just tell me what you’re going on about.”

The Shadowed One chuckled. “Why tell you when I can show you? Vezon, if you would.”

The half-Skakdi let out a sigh and suddenly a portal materialized right beside Roodaka, startling her. Gazing into the rift, she saw a world that was similar to this one in some ways, yet different in others. Makuta clad in white and gold armor were locked in combat with Toa of Shadows. Rahkshi defended innocent citizens from raving mad Matoran. Visorak and Bohrok fought side by side as they dealt with the organic Agori and Glatorian.

It did not take her long to recognize this power as that of the Kanohi Olmak, the Mask of Dimensional Gates. She had seen it before when Brutaka had used it to threaten Spiriah during their search for Makuta Miserix. How Vezon had gotten access to such power was beyond her, and she doubted the Shadowed One would be willing to divulge it.

Still, even as she pieced together what it was the Shadowed One was getting at by having access to this kind of power, she realized she now had an out for herself as well, provided she could get to Vezon before anyone could suspect her. But that would take time and planning, and in order to buy herself that time, she needed to earn the Shadowed One’s trust, an uphill battle in and of itself.

Turning back to the leader of the Dark Hunters, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze evenly. “You are mad if you think you’ll be able to conquer this world… let alone multiple.”

“Perhaps.” The Shadowed One grinned. “But sometimes, madness can be a formidable weapon. All you need to do is what your enemy least expects you to.”

Roodaka glanced back at the open portal and the chaos raging beyond it. Then, she dropped down to one knee, mimicking Vanisher as she bowed her head in obeisance. As she uttered words swearing fealty that rang hollow only to her, she vowed to herself that she would find a way to attain this newfound power that the Shadowed One had found. Then, and only then, would she finally be unstoppable… and the whole world would bow to her.

Thus swore Roodaka.

BIONICLE: Faux - Part V

FAUX: PART V

  He was running.

He wasn’t sure where he was running to or what he was running from. All he knew was that he had to run, and that he had a mask in his hands. The golden mask radiated with energy, his hands feeling like they were going to burn if he held onto it any longer. Was it a gift from the world above? Or some forgotten treasure left behind by those who dwelt in these dark waters?

Whatever it was, he had to take it somewhere safe. Up ahead, he could see a small alcove with a stone statue in the center of it. There, he thought. He could put the mask there. It would be safe there.

His small legs propelled him over to the alcove and he pushed himself on his feet to reach up and place the mask on the face of the statue. He then stepped back and let out a sigh of relief, conscious of the remaining air left in his bubble. Still though, he felt tense and a weird sensation prickled his neck. It almost felt as if something was watching him….

As he gazed upon the mask, it suddenly shifted from gold to silver. Before he could even begin to speculate as to the cause, a tentacle wrapped around the neck of the statue and pulled with force. The statue exploded into pieces and he was sent flying off his feet, landing hard on the seafloor.

A crimson figure now stood where the statue once had, the mask wrapped tightly around its tentacle. A trio of blue eyes blazed with menace as a savage grin crossed the monster’s face.

“Now, little Matoran,” the Barraki Kalmah declared. “It is time to meet your doom!”

*  *  *

Axonn rested his giant axe on the ground as he regarded the familiar black and silver being standing before him. Ever since escaping from the fortress of the cursed Great Being in Bota Magna, he had gotten little rest as he had returned to his duties and aided in the construction and protection of the new society on Spherus Magna. As such, he almost felt as if he was dreaming as he stared at the form of his long-time comrade in the Order of Mata Nui. It had been quite some time since he had last seen Hydraxon; even before the Great Cataclysm which had supposedly claimed his life, the jailer had spent most of his time in the Pit while Axonn had stayed on the southern continent to watch over the Mask of Life. Still, they had gone on plenty of missions together, both in the Order and in its predecessor state, the Hand of Artakha.

As he looked upon Hydraxon now, however, Axonn wasn’t sure if he was looking at that same comrade, and it wasn’t just because of his tiredness. When Toa Kopaka and Pohatu had told everyone of what they had experienced inside the Red Star, they had named Hydraxon as among those resurrected by the machine, meaning that the Hydraxon that had inexplicably reemerged during the Toa Mahri’s search for the Mask of Life had to have been some sort of impostor. But from what Axonn could perceive with a cursory scan from his Kanohi Rode, this Hydraxon legitimately believed himself to be the real deal. How this was the case, he wasn’t sure, although he had his theories.

But for now, those theories would have to wait for another time to be tested, as this new Hydraxon had come to him with something that was of a much higher priority.

“It certainly sounds as if there is a larger plot afoot,” Axonn said once Hydraxon had finished recounting his tale. “The involvement of the Dark Hunters certainly doesn’t mean anything good, especially with the Shadowed One still unaccounted for.”

“Which is why I need your help,” grunted Hydraxon. “Zakron clearly knows more than he is letting on, but I can’t get him to talk.”

Axonn shook his head. “My mask can pierce through deception, but it cannot extract the truth from those unwilling to share it.”

“It’s not your mask power I require,” Hydraxon said. “I was thinking more about your… particular brand of persuasion.”

Axonn sighed as he rested on his axe. “Those days are long behind me, old friend. I’m not quite the barbarian I used to be back during those times. I can try the usual Order interrogation methods, but I doubt I would get anything out of him that you couldn’t already. Perhaps if you asked Tobduk, he would be willing to offer his services.”

“Already tried. He wasn’t available.” Hydraxon sighed as he leaned against a nearby walk, folding his arms over his chest. For a long time, he was silent, and when he finally did speak, he did not meet Axonn’s gaze. “Do you believe the rumors?”

Axonn felt that he knew what he was eluding to but decided to play coy. “Rumors?”

“That I’m not the real Hydraxon. Ever since those Toa came back from the Red Star and told everyone of what they had seen… including someone who looked like me… I felt that I’ve been treated differently, especially by you and the others. Like I’m not one of you anymore.”

“Is that why you’ve become a hunter rather than a jailer?”

Hydraxon shrugged. “I guess I needed to blow off some steam. Of course, now I’m regretting my change in career since the Toa and those Glatorian haven’t done that good of a job of keeping prisoners behind bars.”

Axonn looked down at the ground for a moment, carefully choosing his words. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he then admitted. “I was not there on the Red Star, so I cannot verify Kopaka and Pohatu’s claims. I also had never considered the prospect of you having perished during the Great Cataclysm. When I heard that the Toa Mahri had encountered you in the waters, I did not think much of it. I simply thought you were continuing to do your job.” He then shrugged his mighty shoulders. “As it stands now, whoever that Hydraxon was that the Toa encountered on the Red Star is now no more, and you are all that remains. The status quo is back to what it was, as far as I’m concerned.”

Hydraxon did not seem assured by these words, but then he had never been one to show his emotions. After a moment, he pushed away from the wall and cricked his shoulders and neck.

“No matter, then. I still have an idea of where the Dark Hunter was taking the Matoran. I’ll see if there’s any flying vehicles I can use to go after them.”

Axonn narrowed his eyes at his old comrade. “Did you really come to me to help you with interrogating Zakron, or were you just looking for someone to confide in?”

Hydraxon did not answer him as he walked away. Anything he said would have been clearly read as a lie by Axonn’s mask.

*  *  *

It had taken some convincing, but Hydraxon had managed to get access to the Axalara T9 that Artakha had built for the Toa Nuva to use in Karda Nui. It was somewhat of a tight fit for him, having been made for a Toa to use rather than someone of his species, but he nonetheless managed to pilot it into the sky before going in the direction that the shapeshifting Dark Hunter had taken Defilak.

The first sign that he was headed in the right direction came when a Rhotuka spinner spun past his head. He pulled a lever to deploy the Axalara’s built-in Skyblasters and began firing down at the ground, already spotting some Dark Hunters emerging from their hiding spots to attack him. There was a flash of light as a familiar purple and white Dark Hunter appeared in front of Hydraxon on the bow of the Axalara.

“You again?” Vanisher growled. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

Hydraxon responded by taking the Axalara into a dive. Vanisher let out a yelp as he teleported away while the Dark Hunters down on the ground continued to fire upon the massive vehicle. Rhotuka spinners, Kanoka disks, Zamor spheres, and all sorts of projectiles buzzed past Hydraxon’s head as he continued to strafe the ground below. One Kanoka disk managed to hit one of the engines and Hydraxon lost control of the Axalara as it went into a spin. As it quickly approached the ground, he jumped out of the vehicle and let it crash while he dropped and rolled back onto his feet, weapons at the ready.

Surrounding him now were at least five Dark Hunters. Hydraxon recognized Vanisher and Spinner from their previous encounter, and he figured the one in the form of the mythical Rahi Keetongu to be the shape-shifter known as Triglax. Joining them was a bulky Dark Hunter armed with a shoulder-mounted disk launcher, whom Hydraxon identified to be Gatherer, as well as a monstrous Skakdi of Iron armed with a Zamor launcher.

As Hydraxon looked from one Dark Hunter to the other, trying to plan in his head how to tackle each one, he heard a cold harsh laugh come from behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see a tall black Vortixx emerge from the cave that was apparently his enemies’ hideout.

“Roodaka,” he growled under his breath.

Roodaka smiled mirthlessly as she spread her arms. “Surprised to see me? I’ll admit, I’m impressed by how quickly you were able to track us down. I would expect a Toa to be persistent over one little Matoran… but you are no Toa, are you?”

“I was hired to do a job,” Hydraxon grunted. “That job won’t be finished until every last Matoran has been rescued and all of you are back behind bars.”

“Well, that first one can be easily amended,” Roodaka replied. “I have your Matoran right here.”

Hydraxon turned around just as Roodaka stepped aside to reveal a small and hideous creature hobbling on two legs. Only the green and silver armor covering its deformed body betrayed the fact that the creature had once been the Le-Matoran known as Defilak. The mutated Matoran looked up at Hydraxon with pleading eyes, begging for either mercy… or death.

Hydraxon had seen his fair share of mutated beings over the course of his time in the Pit, but for the first time in a millennium, he found himself feeling aghast at the horrific sight that was now in front of him.

“What… what have you done?” he breathed.

“Indulging myself,” Roodaka replied, raising her Catcher Claws. “It had been too long since I created a new monster to unleash upon my foes. Of course, I was hoping for something bigger. With those five other Matoran, I would have been able to fuse them all together to create what they call a Matoran Nui. Imagine what mutation I could have created from that….”

Hydraxon was not keen on doing so. He needed to find a way to reverse Defilak’s mutations, which meant getting the Catcher Claws out of Roodaka’s hands… but first, he needed to take care of the five Dark Hunters…

“Of course,” Roodaka continued, “maybe you would be better off not returning this Matoran to his friends. It’s not like they would recognize him. In fact, they would most likely shun him for being the freak that he is. Say what you will about Matoran, but they’re not always as friendly as people say….”

Hydraxon glanced to his left. Triglax, in the form of Keetongu, spun his rotating shields while Spinner readied his Rhotuka. To his right, Gatherer and his Skakdi partner primed their launchers. Behind him, Vanisher was no doubt readying himself to move in for the kill.

The explosions from his Cordak Blaster would be enough to knock down at least some of them, but it wouldn’t stop the projectiles from flying. His exploding boomerangs could be handy, but at least three of the Dark Hunters already had experience with them and would be ready for them, not to mention they would have already warned their two other friends. The throwing blades probably wouldn’t do too much damage, especially not against Gatherer with all of his layers of armor. And in addition to all of that, he needed to avoid Rhotuka spinners, especially Roodaka’s lest he meet the same fate as Defilak.

It was six against one. Odds that he was used to. But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t sure if he would be spending more time fighting them… or himself.

*  *  *

Dekar held the mask close to his chest as he fell. He could hear the Barraki cursing him above, but their voices grew fainter and fainter the further he fell.

Eventually, he felt himself hit the seabed and he quickly got back to his feet, still holding tightly to the mask. Around him laid scattered pieces of armor and perhaps even body parts, but he did not dare dwell on that last aspect. He needed to get back to Mahri Nui and tell the others about the mask.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him and he turned around to see a tall, lanky figure emerge from a nearby cave, its blue plates of armor glowing in the dark. Its red eyes glowed with a hypnotic glare and Dekar could only stare at the being in a trance as he tried to walk back.

“You just refuse to stay dead, don’t you?” Takadox growled. “Well, if I killed you once… I can kill you again!”

He brandished a pair of long knives and he raised them, ready to strike at the Po-Matoran. Before he could land a single blow, the ground erupted behind him and another Barraki emerged from the graveyard of pieces.

“He’s mine!” roared Mantax as he swiped at Takadox with his pincers. Takadox raised his knives to block the attack and the blades of their weapons locked.

Free from the trance, Dekar seized on the opportunity to make a run for it. He immediately skidded to a halt as Carapar emerged from the shadows, and he dived for the ground as the crablike Barraki lunged at him with his massive claw.

“You can’t keep us locked up forever!” Carapar growled. “We’re just gonna break out again and again until one or all of us are dead!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Dekar murmured as he struggled to crawl away, still gripping onto the mask. “I’m just a Matoran!”

“He still doesn’t know,” cackled Takadox. “He’s still trapped in his delusions!”

Dekar tried to get up only for Carapar’s claw to slam into him, sending him flying off a cliff. He dug his Aqua Hunter blades into the rock to try and stop himself, only for a tentacle to wrap around his leg.

“Let us try to enlighten him,” Kalmah said as he pulled Dekar into the abyss.

*  *  *

Hydraxon narrowly dodged Spinner’s Rhotuka in time and it zipped past his head, hitting the female Skakdi of Iron and causing her to lose her balance. She nearly fell into Gatherer only for the heavily armored Dark Hunter to shove her aside as he readied his disk launcher. A well-timed backflip allowed Hydraxon to avoid the Kanoka disk as it launched through the air, instead hitting Spinner and encasing the larger Dark Hunter in ice.

“Oh, for crying out—” Gatherer started to say only to cry out as Hydraxon landed on his feet and fired a rocket from his Cordak Blaster, causing the ground beneath Gatherer’s feet to explode and send him flying.

Three down, Hydraxon thought to himself. Three to—

He grunted as a Zamor sphere hit him in the shoulder. The Skakdi had already recovered and was now charging towards him, unfurling a mallet from her right arm as she uttered a war cry.

Make that two down, four to go, Hydraxon amended. He quickly stepped aside, allowing the Skakdi to run past him, before hurling an exploding boomerang in her direction. He did not watch to see if the weapon made contact as Vanisher suddenly appeared before him and thrust his spear at him. Hydraxon dodged the attack and moved to grab the spear only for Vanisher to teleport away, appearing behind him and kicking him in the back, causing the hunter to stumble forward.

“We know all your tricks now, Hydraxon,” Vanisher said, grinning savagely. “You aren’t getting out of this one.”

Hydraxon glowered at the Dark Hunter. “Watch me.” 

*  *  *

Dekar found himself hanging upside down, suspended by Kalmah’s tentacle. He was no longer underwater and was instead in some sort of chamber. A set of doors opened and an unfamiliar figure entered the room. Everything about her appearance indicated her to be a Toa of Water, but her blue armor was worn and pitted with scars, and the eyes behind her Kanohi mask carried the baggage of a hundred millennia.

She stepped over to Dekar and regarded the Po-Matoran with a look of curiosity. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be in the Pit.”

“My name is Dekar!” he replied. “I don’t even know where I am! One minute I was being chased by the Barraki, the next—”

“The Barraki are imprisoned in the Pit,” a voice said behind him. Dekar craned his head to see that Kalmah was no longer standing there and had been replaced by a nine-foot-tall being with horns. The tentacle that had been wrapped around his foot was now a chain. “You made sure of that, Hydraxon.”

“My name isn’t Hydraxon! I told you, it’s—” Before Dekar could finish, the horned being unsheathed a blade and used it to cut the chain. Dekar cried out as he fell down once more, which abruptly ended when he landed in the arms of another Toa, this one in green armor.

“Gotcha,” said Toa Lewa, master of air. “Better watch where you’re going.”

“What… what’s going on?” Dekar asked, wishing for this nightmare to be over.

“You are lost, little one.” The voice came from a Toa of Fire carrying a sword made of flame. “These memories are not yours.”

“Whose are they, then?”

“They belong to the one you are pretending to be.” Toa Tahu struck the ground with his sword and everything around them faded away, leaving Dekar floating in a white void. As the Po-Matoran dangled there helplessly and aimlessly, Tahu walked around him, his appearance shifting each time Dekar laid eyes on him.

“The Mask of Life transformed you as a means of protecting itself,” uttered the form of Pridak. “You were about to destroy it to keep it out of the hands of the Barraki, and so it remade you. Your old self was banished to the furthest recesses of your mind, so that Hydraxon could take hold.”

“So, what, does that mean I’m dead?” Dekar asked.

“Not dead. At least, not in the traditional sense of the word.” Pridak’s appearance shifted and Dekar was now looking at his Ga-Matoran friend Kyrehx. “You are at a crossroads now, Dekar. The Mask of Life has long since fulfilled its purpose. The Great Spirit has been reawakened.”

Dekar’s eyes went wide. “He has? Does that mean… it’s over? All of the fighting… the running away….”

“Not quite.” Kyrehx stepped closer and suddenly Dekar found himself staring at the vile visage of the Barraki Ehlek. “The Barraki are still at large, along with plenty of others who wish to do harm to the new world that Mata Nui has presented his people with. There is plenty of work to be done.”

Dekar blinked and Ehlek was replaced with a Toa of Air in lime-green armor.

“But you don’t have to work alone anymore. There are plenty of Toa and new warriors available to deal with these threats. If you wish to put down your arms… all you need to do is to say so.”

Dekar frowned. “Would I be making the right choice if I do that? Would I be giving up by becoming a Matoran again and letting the ‘real’ heroes take care of things?”

Lesovikk chuckled as he shrunk down into the familiar form of Defilak. “Heroes can come in all shapes and sizes. You don’t need tools and Kanohi masks to prove that. Just your spirit.”

Dekar took in his breath even as Defilak was replaced with the floating shape of the Kanohi Ignika. The Mask of Life glowed brightly as it moved closer towards the Po-Matoran.

“The choice is yours, Dekar. What will it be?”

Dekar stared at the mask as he contemplated its words, the minutes ticking by like eternity… which it might as well have been.

Then, he made his decision.

BIONICLE: Faux - Part IV

FAUX: PART IV

  At the crack of dawn, they had resumed their journey. At the rate they were going, Hydraxon calculated that they would be back in New Atero by at least sundown, if not a bit later. That was, of course, if they did not run into any more trouble along the way.

For the few hours, the Matoran had been mostly silent. Then, the Po-Matoran started to complain.

“It’s too bad we don’t have Toa Pohatu with us,” griped Podu. “He could probably get use there in no time.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a Mask of Speed handy,” Hydraxon groused back. “Now keep quiet.”

He then heard a cry and a fall and looked over to see that Tejuto had fallen over. Hydraxon had noticed that the Ko-Matoran’s legs were uneven, making walking difficult for him without the aid of some sort of walking stick. Clearly he had been robbed of it by either Zakron or Sahmad and now had to rely on one of the other Matoran to help him walk. With this in mind, it was probably going to take them even longer to get back to New Atero.

Realizing what he was going to have to do and hating everything about it, Hydraxon walked over to the Ko-Matoran and picked him up, carrying him on his shoulder.

Tejuto’s eyes went wide behind his Kanohi mask. “Th-thank you,” he said timidly.

“Quiet,” Hydraxon muttered as he resumed walking.

Defilak looked up at him and couldn’t seem to keep a smirk from crossing his mask. “That’s something the Dekar I know would have done.”

“Less talking. We’ll get there faster the less we stop to talk.”

The Matoran dutifully remained silent as they continued their journey. About another hour or so had passed when Hydraxon heard the distinct sound of a rumbling engine.

Readying his Cordak Blaster, he turned around to see some sort of motorized wagon drive towards them. Piloting the vehicle was a being of a species Hydraxon did not recognized but appeared to be biomechanical in nature. The transport slowed to a stop and the pilot poked his head out.

“Hey there. You guys seem to be lost. Need a lift?”

Hydraxon narrowed his eyes. There seemed to be just enough room for the six Matoran and himself, which was awfully convenient. Too convenient, for his liking.

Keeping his Cordak Blaster partially raised, Hydraxon asked, “What’s your name?”

“Ah, you can call me Kraklin. So, are you gonna hop on or what?”

Hydraxon continued to hesitate, but some of the other Matoran had already made up their minds and were walking towards the vehicle. “What are we waiting for?” said Podu. “My legs are getting sore anyway.”

Hydraxon still did not like anything about this scenario but complied anyway, seating Tejuto in the back of the wagon before taking his own seat at the very back. He kept his attention focused on Kraklin as the pilot started to drive them away.

Within half an hour, Hydraxon began to see the outline of New Atero on the horizon. They were getting close, he could tell, but something about their trajectory had him at unease.

“There’s a tavern out here on the outskirts,” he called to Kraklin. “Just drop us off there and we’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure?” Kraklin asked. “I can take you all the way into the city.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Hydraxon said curtly. “In fact, just pull over now and we’ll be on our way.”

Kraklin sighed. “And here I was hoping you weren’t going to catch on that soon.”

What happened next would have caught even the most experienced of Toa off-guard, but Hydraxon’s specialized training allowed him to react in time. As Kraklin’s form began to morph, Hydraxon hurled one of his boomerangs at the shapeshifter. At the same time, mere seconds before the resulting explosion, he pushed Kotu out of the vehicle, and the Ga-Matoran ended up taking Gar and Dezalk along with her as she fell out. He then grabbed Podu and Tejuto before using the explosion from the exploding boomerang to propel himself out, landing on his feet as the wagon spiraled out of control.

Gar was quick to bring himself back to his feet, waving his arms wildly. “Wait! Defilak is still in there!”

“Already on it,” Hydraxon growled, adding silently to himself, Don’t tell me how to do my job. He then ran after the transport, which tripped over a rock and fell onto its side. Defilak was sent flying and the Le-Matoran fell face-first into the sand. As Hydraxon ran towards him, Kraklin emerged from the wreckage of the transport, now in the form of a vulture-like Rahi that matched the descriptions of Makuta’s pet Nivawk. The winged creature dove for Defilak even as Hydraxon threw his last boomerang. The Nivawk dodged the blade, which circled back around and headed straight for its target. To Hydraxon’s surprise, the Nivawk dodged again and the blade ended up hitting the ground at Hydraxon’s feet, sending the hunter flying.

He managed to recover his footing by turning his fall into a roll. However, by the time he had gotten back up, the Nivawk had already grabbed Defilak and was now flying back up into the sky. Hydraxon raised his Cordak Blaster but hesitated from firing. Cordak missiles were notoriously explosive, and even if Defilak wasn’t caught in the blast, the fall from that height would certainly kill him if Hydraxon didn’t catch him in time… and as confident as Hydraxon was in his own abilities, he wasn’t confident enough to take that risk.

So instead he let the Nivawk fly off with Defilak, watching it carefully to map its trajectory. He then looked back towards the other five Matoran.

“Do any of you know how to repair a vehicle?” he asked.

“I might know a thing or two,” said Gar.

“Good.” Hydraxon nodded towards the downed wagon. “Help me get that thing repaired. After I drop you off in New Atero, I’m going after that shapeshifter.”

“Do you know where it’s going?” asked Kotu.

“Not yet. But after I have a talk with a few friends, I’m sure I will.”

*  *  *

Defilak grunted as he was dropped onto the ground. Behind him, the Nivawk shapeshifted into another form and grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him up as the being carried him into some sort of dark lair.

“I found one of your dumb Matoran, Roodaka,” the shapeshifter growled. “The others got away. You’ll have to pay me extra if you want me to go back for them.”

“One is still better than none. Excellent work, Triglax.” From the shadows emerged a tall, lithe figure in black and silver armor, blue eyes glowing from a sinister face. “This one will still do nicely.”

Defilak glared at the Vortixx standing in front of him. “I don’t know who you are, but you have another thing quick-coming if you think you’re going to get away with this… whatever ‘this’ is.”

Roodaka laughed mirthlessly as she ran a sharpened finger along his mask, causing Defilak to flinch. “My dear Matoran… by the time your heroes find where you are, it will already be too late to save you.”

She then took Defilak from Triglax’s grip and carried the Le-Matoran over to a slab, dropping him down onto it. Before the Le-Matoran could even attempt to flee, Roodaka raised her Catcher Claws and readied her Rhotuka spinner, which whirred with energy.

“I never know what sort of mutations are going to come out of this,” the Vortixx mused aloud to herself. “That’s honestly half the fun. I’m sure you can guess what the other half is.”

Defilak’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened in a silent scream as the Rhotuka spinner launched from the claws.