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.