Trial of Iron
By Iro
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PROLOGUE

It was called Uteara, the name based off of an archaic term that meant something along the lines of “flourishing” or “thriving.” It was the grand continent of the west, dominating the western hemisphere of the small planet called Murtua. Uteara was divided into eight different regions – the Ice Region as the northernmost piece, the Great Barren south of it, followed by the Central City and the Industry Region. To the south of the Industry Region were the Storm Sector to the southwest, the Green Region covering the south, and the small Volcanic Sector southeast of the forested piece. To the west of the Great Barren was a relatively small territory, segregated from the rest of the continent; it was known as Terra Quematha, referencing the beings that dwelt within its confines.

The Utearan people were generally happy with the recent industrial revolution that had taken place over the course of the last two centuries. Now, there was to be nothing but peace for the western continent. The last traces of the evil that once terrorized Uteara had finally been dispelled. Even the Toa, the elementally-powered warriors of justice that worked to defend their home, could at long last relax. It was true; there was a bit of work to help the isle of Deax Nui to the northwest that was to be done, but aside from that, all the chaos had subsided.
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The Green Region was the second largest piece of Uteara. It was a magnificent span of forests, jungles, and a small plain here or there. It had also been the least affected by the industrialization of Uteara. No, if one were to live in the Green Region, he would be there because the city life was not for him. In addition, neither the dry, stuffy Volcanic Sector nor the cold, dark Storm Sector would have seemed pleasing to that one. Indeed, the Green Region only saw mild heat, with a small amount of rain during the winter and spring. However, with the apparent lack of technology, life would perhaps appear to be a bit lackluster.

This was the case of one Toa Netruhl. He stood seven feet in height, with a slim, yet sturdy, build. He had short brown hair that appeared to be turning grey, the result of almost rapid aging. His eyes were dark green, matching the color of the lush forest around him, glowing in a rather jaded way. He wore a black suit that was coated in silver pieces of armor. A small pack rested on his back, containing three silver objects. Two were thin daggers, built for throwing. The other was a trapezoidal mask of power.

Netruhl’s day had gone by much like the rest of the month. He wandered the Green Region, sometimes with his friend Inquer, sometimes without, looking for something – anything – to do. Unfortunately, for him, his days usually ended as they began. From time to time, the Toa of Earth would brandish a dagger and toss it at a faraway tree in hopes of piercing its trunk in a test of accuracy, but once such an act was perfected, its fun factor decreased.

Another thing that provided some distraction from the tedium of his life was reflection on the past. Once, in his millennium-long history, he was a member, one of twenty-one, of the Toa Ryhmä. The team consisted of one Toa of each Murtuan element, from fire to gravity, from light to shadow itself. Netruhl was known as being rather outspoken, voicing his opinion when he wished to, regardless of the annoyance it might have caused to another.

The Toa Ryhmä functioned for but one century before disaster struck. One of the group, the Toa of Shadow, had killed a dark being named Justac in a rather brutal manner. He had been warned not to commit such an act again, but no further discipline had been enacted.

It was meant to get better from there, Netruhl thought grimly, but, of course, things don’t work like that.

Indeed, the situation simply became more complicated. After Toa Pothyn, who was known for antagonizing the Toa of Shadow from time to time, was viciously attacked, the Shadow was kicked off of the team, but he was not the last to leave. He rallied six Toa Ryhmä to split off from the team and work as he commanded. Of course, the murder of seven other Toa Ryhmä at the hands of the Toa of Shadow soon forced them to return.

And the next thing you knew, there were six. Tyverus, Ujama, Harveil, Clyvæus, Pothyn, and me… we were the only ones to escape. Harv and Pothyn disappeared, and Clyvæus betrayed us for good.

With despair, however, came hope. A Matoran of Light named Inquer, following the death of the Toa Ryhmä of Light, transformed into a Toa herself and assisted Tyverus, Netruhl, and Ujama, now the Toa Cevil, in defeating the Shadow.

Soon thereafter, Netruhl, Ujama, and Inquer would act as guards to the Green Region, where the grave of the late Tyverus, who was poisoned by the Shadow, was to be located. From there, the rest was history.

Netruhl’s head abruptly turned at the sound of rustling came from the bushes to his left. He unsheathed a long black sword with two heads and pointed one end at the direction from which he had heard the noise.

“Who’s there?” he asked sharply.

“Relax, you big oaf,” a silken female voice replied. “It’s just me.”

Emerging from the brush was a young woman clothed in white, standing a few inches below the Toa of Earth. She had golden blonde hair that matched the color of her eyes. Small bits of a metallic yellow armor covered her suit. A bright smile covered her face as her eyes met with Netruhl’s.

“Right…” the Toa of Earth muttered, a bit embarrassed. He paused for a moment before finally saying, “Have you seen Ujama, Inquer?”

“Not since this morning,” Inquer replied. “He said something about visiting Tyverus’ grave before heading east to talk with the leader of the next village. Something about a Rahkshi sighting, I heard.”

Netruhl frowned. Everything that Inquer had said caused that expression. Firstly, he did not exactly approve of Ujama constantly visiting Tyverus’ grave twice a day since the grave had existed. Secondly – and more importantly – the presence of Rahkshi was never a good sign. Although one or two of the mechanical fiends were usually not a huge threat, their presence usually heralded the coming of a certain group of dark shapeshifters.

“Makuta…” the Toa of Earth spat, giving a minute shudder at the sound of the word. “Don’t tell me they’re back.”

“Oh, I bet one just got loose,” Inquer said reassuringly. “No big deal.”

Neither Toa really believed that this was “no big deal.” Makuta were nothing to joke about. They were a species, relatively small in number, but just one would outmatch any Toa or Toa team in terms of sheer strength and power. Each commanded the element of shadow, possessed over forty additional powers, and was capable of using their shapeshifting abilities to disguise themselves as anything or anyone. Adding all of that to the fact that they were virtually impossible to kill by physical strikes alone, one would have a tremendous problem.

“Let’s head back home,” Inquer suggested. “We’ll talk to Ujama tomorrow; I’m betting that he’ll stay in the village he visited for the night. The sun’s already starting to set, and he’s probably not having a quick chat over there.”

Netruhl gave a nod and gestured for the two to start walking back to their house. After a short and uneventful trip, they reached their small wooden cabin. It was not much, not all Toa would be satisfied with it, but it was home to both Netruhl and Inquer. However, to their surprise, a being was sitting on their front porch.

It was rather large, standing perhaps half of a foot above Netruhl, appearing to be both lean and strong. Around its torso and upper limbs was a black suit of armor, covering its scarlet skin. Its lower arms and legs were covered in scales, similar to those of a reptile. Both its feet and hands ended in clawed digits. Its most noticeable feature was its head. It was solid black with dark red eyes on each side, like on a number of animals, and its mouth was, if anything, a gaping maw.

One may have called this being hideous among other things. Netruhl and Inquer called him a friend.

“Zha-xar!” Netruhl exclaimed. “Oh, man, it’s been too long!” The Toa of Earth extended his arm.

The reptilian being smiled broadly and shook Netruhl’s hand. “Too long it has been indeed, my friend!” he replied happily. “I do not believe we have spoken since the first century after our united effort to destroy the dark being from long ago.”

Inquer was smiling as broadly as Zha-xar. She gave him a quick embrace, the memory of this figure saving her life coming back to her.

“What have you been up to all this time?” Netruhl inquired.

“Oh, it has been nothing but business and study for me, Toa,” Zha-xar said. “The -xar class I may be a part of, but I have yet to escape from the grand bore that is my study. Soon, I promise, soon I shall graduate from the Atreu schooling and go out into the world to pursue a career of sorts.”

“It’s just as boring here, Zha,” Inquer chuckled. “We’re Toa; we need to bash a few bad guy heads together every once in a while.”

“Is that so? Well, perhaps I should consider myself lucky to be moving forward in this life. A question, however – where is Ujama? I would not wish to miss a reunion with all of the remaining Toa Cevil.”

“He had to take care of a Rahkshi scare to the east,” Netruhl explained. “I’d imagine that he’ll come back tomorrow if everything’s taken care of.”

“Rahkshi, you say? I must admit that I do not miss their presence.”

“You’re not alone.”

“How is Tyverus? I imagine that Ujama is speaking with him to this day. Dha-sar, the grand scholar, taught him various techniques of communication with the deceased. However, that was all very basic, and the Toa of the Green can only perhaps speak for mere minutes with him, and in intervals of one to two months.”

“Ujama speaks with Tyverus?” Netruhl asked, his expression a combination of a frown and a smirk. “Since when?”

“Ever since he visited our village of Atre-Koro soon after the Toa of Fire’s death, he has had such ability. I remember that Dha-sar, along with Yu-sar, would sit with him for hours upon hours, meditating, and learning to see the spirits that remain in this world. A very interesting concept, it is, spectral communication. However, as I learned long ago, one is able to speak only with the spirits that choose to remain in the world of the living. It would appear that Tyverus has made that choice.”

“I don’t like that,” the Toa of Earth muttered. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“I would imagine that he and Tyverus were very close, more so than he believed you to be. I am sure that no offense was intended; it was most likely a thought that eventually became a fact in his mind.”

“We’ll talk about that later, I guess,” Inquer said, her tone implying that she did not in fact wish to speak of this any further to Zha-xar or at all to Ujama. Netruhl rolled his eyes, but was frozen by a sharp gaze from the Toa of Light.

“Want to head on inside, Zha-xar?” Netruhl solicited. “It’s getting pretty dark out now.”

“Very well,” the Atreu answered, “I fear not the dark, but I suppose it is best to converse when one’s vision is functioning suitably.”

The three began to head inside the house, when Zha-xar started a bit, as if a realization had abruptly come over him. Unbeknownst to the two Toa Cevil, he reached into a small pack that lay on his back. He stared at a large black sphere that was coated with razor-sharp spikes and frowned. He did not wish to do what he was meant to, but as were his orders… he would have to. Brandishing a long jet black pole, he fastened the sphere to complete his weapon.

“My memory has failed me, Toa,” he said suddenly. “I was meant to remember that a being was to meet me here in this forest. I do believe I should wait in the wilderness to meet with her.”

“Oh?” Inquer said. “Who?”

Zha-xar bowed his head, almost in shame. He then surged forward, striking Inquer in the chest with his mace. He closed his eyes and landed a solid blow to her head, knocking her out. Before Netruhl could even think to react, he fell to a blast of an extremely dark multi-colored energy that erupted from the palm of the Atreu’s hand.

“My apologies, Toa,” he uttered softly, “but it was nothing more than duty that has forced this deed upon me. You know not of what is to happen, and I truly wish that you are able to forgive me as you were able to forgive those Toa Ryhmä that allied with the great evil of the past.”

Two shapes emerged from the east. Both were identical, a skinny and tall build with snake-like heads. One had long talons and was silver and green in color, while its counterpart was emerald and black, with claws that appeared to be blades rather than fingers. They were Rahkshi, the robotic creations of not Makuta, but Zha-xar himself.

“Yurahk,” the Atreu said, addressing the emerald-armored Rahkshi, “and Abirahk,” he added to the other, “You are to take these bodies to Kehtyva, the island far to the east of Uteara. My sister Tora will greet you… and she shall retain possession of these Toa Cevil.”

“No damage is to befall these Toa?” Abirahk replied. Most beings would be puzzled; Rahkshi did not typically have the ability to speak.

“No…” Zha-xar said. “They are to remain intact. You are capable of this, I know. Ignore the thoughts that the Makuta place into your mind. You are meant to respect other beings… you must realize this.”

“This will be done,” Yurahk’s static-filled voice answered. “Worry not; no harm shall come upon these Toa.”

Oh, if only I could believe that, Zha-xar thought to himself, motioning his hand to dismiss his Rahkshi. In my mind and in my heart, however, I know that once in Tora’s possession… these Toa shall never be the same.

The Atreu disassembled his mace, placing the pole in his sheath, and the head in his pack. He began to head east, to the location of the village in which Ujama was said to be staying. This next task would hurt him more than this did. Ujama was more of a friend to him than Netruhl and Inquer; Zha-xar knew him well, and they were close like brothers. If only things were not the way they were… if only the horrors of the Atreu’s past were not reality… if only….

The word ‘if’ is a torture, indeed , he pondered solemnly. It forces the mind to wander, to explore the possibilities of a future that does not or could not exist. It distracts beings from the reality that is, depresses them for how terribly things have gone. I shall not be distracted… my leader would not approve. He spared a quick glance at his two Rahkshi dragging the Toa Cevil away in the distance. A single thought, a single action… how amazing is this life that one decision can shape an entire future? How disturbing it is, as well, for if my choice of joining this group can lead Uteara into a time of darkness and turmoil…. He stopped walking, the thought freezing him in place. What would the choice, the decision to defy the will of shadows, of an unknown being, a hero hidden from us in darkness, bring upon us ?

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CHAPTER I

The Great Barren of Uteara was the least hospitable region of the grand continent of the west. It was infamous for its frequent sandstorms, scorching heat, and less-than-friendly wildlife. Yes, it was true – rumored, rather – that the Great Beings that created planet Murtua once resided somewhere in the vast desert, but such exploration was to be done by historians. The only other beings who would dare to dwell in the Great Barren were daredevils – foolish ones, at that – and madmen.

The Toa of Iron named Iro, it could be said, was not really either of those options. He did have a bit of a historian in him; he could be thoroughly fascinated by Murtua’s past, but it was something from his own history that would have led him to the Great Barren on this day. A letter was given to him on the day prior, mentioning his transformation from a Matoran into a Toa. That alone was cause for Iro to venture north of his home in the Central City to the area of the desert nicknamed the “Valley of Death.”

Iro was a more unique case in terms of appearance. Most Toa would wear bits of armor over their clothing, along with keeping their Kanohi Masks in small packs. The Toa of Iron ignored both of those facts, choosing to wear an entire suit of grey and silver armor. Only his head was left uncovered, though his mask’s design would complete the form of a warrior. It was a rounded silver helmet with two small slits open for his eyes, and a small piece removed to expose his mouth. Most noticeable was the single horn that rested on the mask’s forehead, its tip reflecting the sun’s light from a distance.

Although, despite the reasons for his being here, Iro had other things on his mind, most of them involving Toa. The Toa Cevil, Uteara’s greatest heroes, had disappeared. He did not know if they were simply not to be found, or if they had been kidnapped or worse. In either case, the Toa of Iron found himself ready to act, ready to go out and find the missing heroes. However, that Toa of Sonics named Xinlo had simply dismissed their disappearance as something trivial.

Xinlo… Iro thought bitterly. Ugh, I don’t know why he had to come up, but just the thought of him gets me mad.

Xinlo was, supposedly, a famed hero hailing from the isle of Deax Nui to the northwest of Uteara. Normally, Iro was indifferent as to where a being came from, so long as they showed respect to Uteara. That was not exactly the case. The Toa of Sonics had made a point to compare the Central City to his old home on a regular basis, and when Iro became a Toa, Xinlo would scold him for his overall attitude more than the Toa of Iron would have liked.

Disrespect? Heh. I respect the Toa Cevil and the Toa Ryhmä. They actually earned it by defending Uteara for the entirety of their lives. What did Xinlo do? Scare a few bad guys away from his village? Yeah, that’s worth respecting. I could do it easily too, I bet.

Iro shook his head clear. This was not the time to be angry, he decided. He had a bit of a mystery on his hands, and he should have been focusing on that. After all, how many other Toa could claim to have been transformed out of the blue on what seemed to be a completely random day?

He rested his axe and shield on the ground next to him and sat himself down on a large rock. After a few moments, he removed his mask and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had to admit, wearing a full suit of metal armor in the middle of a desert was not very comfortable. His dark blue eyes stared at the carved-out slits of the Eniden mask. He was told that it was the Mask of Knowledge, though he had yet to see it actually work.

In time, he told himself. I remember what Ujama told me when I talked to him a few years ago – “You have to be patient, and you will soon learn to use your Kanohi Mask just as I had.”

Perhaps that was another reason he really wished to go out and find the missing Toa Cevil – they had proven themselves to not only be heroes, but real people that thought and felt and laughed and lived just like the rest of the Utearan people. They were enigmas of sorts, it was true, but they did not put themselves on pedestals and march around claiming how great they were. In fact, it was rare nowadays to see the Toa Cevil outside of the Green Region.

I just wish this guy would show up soon. I mean, the more time I waste, the more time the Toa Cevil may be in danger.

“Then let no more time be wasted….”

The voice echoed in Iro’s head as if it were the ringing one heard when an explosion went off around them. It sounded like the cry of the dead, a sharp, pained screech of madness. The Toa of Iron would have never figured that a sound alone could be so disgusting. Just hearing the words of the unseen speaker made Iro want to vomit. As if that were not bad enough, the being who had addressed the Toa had decided to show itself.

It was covered in feathers that were both brown and green, the color of a dead leaf and of some sick poison. It stood well over ten feet in height, with long bony legs that ended in razor-sharp black talons. It soared down on two black wings that looked like some fusion of a bat’s and a vulture’s. However, the creature’s wings were ripped, torn, and pierced, appearing to be completely and undeniably useless. Its head looked like some twisted combination of a bird’s head and a reptile’s, complete with a pitted black beak that looked sharp enough to pierce Iro’s armorsuit. To finish off the monstrosity were two narrow eyes on each side of the being’s head, all four colored like rusted gold. Upon seeing the Toa of Iron, it let out a loud shriek.

“What in the world are you ?” Iro breathed.

The avian being gave something close to a smile. “I am…,” it declared, its voice coming out in raspy gasps that rang of death, “nothing more than what you see… Toa…. I am… what you may call a monster… and yet I am no darker than… you…. I am… the Grand Tempter… what the façade of ‘hero’ hides underneath its surface…. I am known by… many names – Ye-Karn in your native tongue – but I and my essence may be described with… a single word: Poison….”

“And you’re the one that summoned me here?”

“Indeed… little one… it was I – we , in truth – that enticed you to… journey to this desert… to this Valley of Death….”

“Who’s ‘we?’” Iro asked. He readied his weapons. This creature did not seem willing to attack just yet, but if it would, the Toa of Iron was prepared.

“Hm…?” Poison grunted in response, as if it had forgotten what it had just said. “Ah… yes…. We… we are the Faces of Death… we five…. I am the first… and therefore the weakest….” Its four eyes narrowed. “However, in the coming battle… I do not doubt that I shall… prove myself a most… difficult opponent to… defeat….”

“Battle? What battle?”

“You… wished to learn… of your past…. Am I correct? You see… we know how you became a Toa… and why it was so destined…. The Toa of… Sonics, Xinlo… he questions why you… were to transform…. We know this is so… but we cannot reveal such information… without… proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“We require… proof that… you are the one… fate has chosen…,” Poison stretched its wings out. It gave a small crouch, and then leaped high in the air. “We… must know that you are the Toa… the Toa in the legends…! We must know…. Five battles you shall take part in… Toa. If you survive each… of the five… you shall know what… you wished to learn…. What say you?”

Iro stared at the ground for a few moments. “I say I’m up for it. I’m not a veteran, sure, but I’m willing to bet that I can take you five… Faces of Death… down. I can do it ‘cause I’m a Toa, and I’m a Toa with heart.” The Toa of Iron tapped on the side of his head, and then tapped over his heart. “And if I use both of these things, there’s no enemy that can ever beat me.”

Poison laughed raggedly. “Thoughts and feelings, you fight with…? I must say… Toa, you have made… this challenge… much … more interesting….”

After all, the avian entity thought to itself, most amused, what do the Faces of Death use against those they face in battle better than their opponents’ own thoughts and feelings?

CHAPTER II

Netruhl slowly opened his eyes, finally awakening after being knocked unconscious hours ago. The first thing that hit him was a putrid aroma that filled the place in which he was located. While the Toa of Earth had never smelled such an odor, he knew that it could have been only one thing – death. He sat up and began to look around, to investigate the cause of the foul smell.

The sight that greeted him was nothing short of shocking. He was in a small chamber, with four thick metal walls surrounding him. Throughout the room were cold stone cots, a few occupied by the dead bodies of Skakdi or Toa. On the one located next to Netruhl, however, was the still-unconscious body of Inquer, large iron chains wrapped around her body. He also noticed that her mask and weapon had been confiscated. Not surprisingly, his were, as well. Continuing to look around the room, he noticed a door on the wall in front of him. Next to it was a rack containing an array of knives, razors, and small vats of unknown substances among other things.

Well, I guess this could be the void, he thought to himself. But I doubt even that place is as… disturbing as this.

Netruhl stood up, shaking his head. It really did not make much sense, this whole scenario. Firstly, Zha-xar should not have had any motive for attacking the two Toa Cevil. After all, they had not spoken for centuries prior to their recent meeting. Secondly, why would he have brought the two to this godforsaken place? Was this some sort of base of operations for him, or for someone that he worked for? It simply did not add up.

On the other hand, maybe it does. Maybe I’m the one who’s totally out of it here. ‘Course, I have no idea where ‘here’ is, and maybe if I figure that out, things’ll start to clear up.

As he wandered the small chamber, he frowned at the sight of the dead Skakdi and Toa. What madman would have left a pair of dead bodies just lying around? Surely, it could not have been Zha-xar; he was restricted to the laws of etiquette for his kind.

Unless I’m thinking too small. Who’s to say that this kidnapping isn’t so much about what we did… but more about what we are?

The thought did make a bit more sense than Zha-xar going about and attacking Toa on his own. In fact, there was always that group of shadowed shapeshifters that seemed to have a never-ending hatred for Toa and everything associated with them.

Makuta…. Why that didn’t come to me before, I don’t know. This could be something a few of them are setting up, to make a ‘point’ or some stupid thing like that.

Before Netruhl could plan his next course of action, however, the entrance to the chamber slowly began to open. Behind the door was a figure, about eight feet in height. It wore a long black cloak over a set of navy blue and ebony armor. Its shoulders were decorated in short silver spikes. The lower left arm was replaced by a silver pincer type of weapon, while the right hand ended in sharp black fingertips. It tightly grasped a jet black flail, the head of which being coated with spikes. Most noticeable, however, was the being’s mask. It was dark blue, streaked with silver, but rather than looking like traditional Kanohi, it matched the shape of a lioness’ head, complete with a set of fangs. The eyes behind the mask were identical to a predator’s, small crimson orbs that glowed with malice among other similar qualities.

“Guess I was right,” Netruhl muttered bitterly. “This whole thing had your stench all around it, Makuta.”

“You may call me Tora,” the being replied, its silken female voice mixed in with the growl of a beast. “The hatred is mutual, I am certain.”

“So, what’s the point of all this, Tora? Kidnapping me and Inquer, that is.”

Tora smiled bitterly. “I am a scientist. I was conducting a series of experiments, to study this hypothetical ‘balance’ of light and shadow within beings. You see, I believe I have figured out how this ‘balance’ can be altered.”

“And the dead Skakdi and Toa? They didn’t survive your experiments, I don’t think.”

“Well, when one does not properly do things, I suppose there are to be consequences.”

“So why are we here?” Netruhl could have hazarded a guess, but he felt that it would be best to hear it from Tora, and perhaps use that time to plan some sort of escape.

“Netruhl, are you truly so naïve? I am sure that you, the very first Toa of Earth, have been around long enough to conceive what your fate is to be.”

“I’m gettin’ old, Tora,” he chuckled. “I’m not as sharp as I used to be.”

The Makuta rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Your kind always seems to have some sort of pathetic and unnecessary banter ready for any situation. Surely, when so much is at stake, you can learn to keep your mouth shut. Nevertheless, if you must hear me say it, I am to remove your inner light, leaving nothing but shadow. If my calculations are correct, you shall retain your original element while gaining elemental control of shadow. Your life prior to transforming shall be forgotten, the result of a toxin that you shall consume, and you and Inquer will both be enslaved to the Makuta.”

Netruhl said nothing in reply. He was sure that the Makuta would simply be happy to kill the two, but it seemed that they had much more sinister ideas in mind. Even if he and Inquer were to escape, the thought that the Makuta had such an ability to create shadowed Toa slaves was stunning.

“Well, aren’t you some kind of monster, Tora?” he said at last. “I guess there’s no difference between male and female Makuta; you’re all the same evil.”

“Evil…” Tora spat. “Yes, I suppose that we are, now. You, of course, do realize that this was due to no fault of our own?” When Netruhl did not say anything, she continued. “How humorous… you were one of the first Toa, and yet you are unaware of what happened. In the beginning, the first of my people were deliberately told that Uteara belonged to us, and so they knew no better to be what you call ‘evil.’ However, once your Toa Ryhmä of Shadow went rogue, the Makuta became irrelevant. The ancient influence had disappeared, and we were left without purpose.”

Tora’s mask faded from view, revealing her face. Surprisingly, it appeared to look no different than a Toa’s face. Her red eyes had turned hazel, while her brown hair took shape on her head.

“Are we so different, you and I?” she asked, her expression filled with spite. “To look behind the bestial masks and the threatening appearance is to see that perhaps we are not.” She paused for what seemed to be an eternity. “I remember that night, that night that history fails to teach. There are extremists, Toa… even among your kind. Some ‘great’ thinker perhaps had mentioned to some Toa that Uteara was better off without Makuta. Therefore, the word had spread throughout a group of you so-called heroes. I was speaking with my brother Vraal in the Terra Quematha when we saw them. Torches… there were dozens of torches… and oh-so-many Toa.”

“No way…” Netruhl muttered. “You don’t mean-”

“Our species was never large in number, perhaps there were a little over one hundred at the time. To this day, there remains less than twenty… and we are still dying.” Tora’s mask faded back into view. “So, you see, we must return the favor. Uteara will not miss her heroes; that was evident when the First Shadow destroyed the Toa Ryhmä. What is a small number of Toa to an entire continent? You and Inquer, you are the lucky ones…. You shall at least live to see another day.”

The Toa of Earth shook his head. “You know, two wrongs won’t make anything right. Corrupting us, killing however many other Toa… that won’t get anything done.”

“I suppose. Perhaps… perhaps it simply contents us to do such a thing.”

“Then you just prove my point. For a little bit, I felt bad, but the fact that you can’t learn to forgive… well; there’s nothing I can do there. Know this, though – I won’t let you corrupt us into your little shadow puppets.”

Tora’s eyes flashed crimson. She surged forward, swinging her flail. Netruhl was unable to dodge in time and was struck in the chest by the weapon. He stumbled backward and was felled by a sweeping kick from the Makuta. Before he could react, a stasis field formed around him, preventing him from moving.

“Now…” Tora seethed, “you shall watch as your friend succumbs to the power of shadow.”

The Makuta stalked toward the cot upon which Inquer was laying. The Toa of Light had yet to awaken. It would have seemed that Zha-xar had expected that Tora’s experiment would be put into use on the Toa Cevil, and that he had manipulated something to have Inquer remain unconscious longer than Netruhl. Of course, Tora did not care about that. Even if she had not been in a blinding fury at the recollections of her past, she probably would not have figured out such a thing.

No, as it would turn out, she simply clamped her pincer around Inquer’s neck and shut her eyes. A dark multi-colored energy formed between the two claws of the weapon. It struck the Toa of Light, instantly awakening her. Tora then realized that this process was to be slightly different for Inquer, due to her elemental power. Her inner light greatly outweighed her inner shadow, but she still had an amount that the Makuta could work with.

Netruhl shut his eyes… for Inquer had started to scream. It was a chilling cry of pure agony, as her inner light was almost violently being absorbed from her.

And I can’t do anything… he realized. I can’t do anything…. No…. I- I’ve failed her… and no one else knows where we are… no one else can help us….

Even if his eventual end was to occur soon, he knew that once the stasis field was lifted, he would let Tora have it. Anger throbbed throughout his entire being. He no longer cared if his attack would accomplish anything; his logic was now the same as the Makuta’s. It did not matter if he did not get anything done. It simply felt good to hit something.

Tora turned to Netruhl, gesturing to Inquer, who was once again unconscious. Her armor had changed from gold and white to black and grey. The damage had been done. “She is now one of ours, Toa Cevil. Are you prepared to join her?”

The stasis field evaporated. The Toa of Earth scrambled to his feet. “I don’t think I’ve much to live for anymore,” he growled, sounding almost dangerously enraged. “Ujama and I were never that close; I really only had Inquer. And- and you’ve taken her away from me. No… those Toa were right to try and exterminate you…. You don’t benefit anything, Makuta.”

Netruhl sprinted forward, using all of his speed to perhaps catch Tora off-guard. He drew his fist back, knowing that the Makuta did not have any flesh, bone, or anything that would have felt pain. Nothing mattered to him anymore. That is, until reality had suddenly hit him. He stopped himself at the horrifying sight behind Tora. He had seen it before, long ago, but had never thought that he would see it again.

Two eyes hovered behind Tora. They were extremely large, and almost appeared to be a hallucination. However, that did not shock Netruhl as much as the color of the eyes. They were yellow, but not clean and healthy like Inquer’s. The eyes looked to be sickly, diseased, like what would have been seen from an ailing animal. Only one being had eyes like that… and he was long dead.

“No…” Netruhl gasped. “It can’t… it can’t be ….”

Tora looked over her shoulder and frowned. Whatever had stopped the enraged Toa was not there, at least not anymore. It did not matter, she supposed. The coming attack was no longer a threat, not that it had ever been one. She simply shrugged and clamped her pincer arm around the stunned Netruhl’s neck.

“It would appear that destiny does not wish the process to be interfered with,” she muttered. “To the shadows with you, Toa Netruhl.”
______________________________________________________________

Ujama shook his head. He had returned to his village of Ota-Koro West a few hours ago to hear that Netruhl and Inquer had disappeared. After eating a quick lunch, he headed out into the wilderness of the Green Region to search for them. He might as well have attempted to find a needle in a haystack. The task of combing the great forest was a mighty one, indeed.

The Toa Cevil of the Green stood about seven feet tall. He wore a navy blue suit that was coated with pieces of dark emerald armor. He had short black hair and bright green eyes that still glowed with youthful features. He was a bit skinny, built more for speed and stealth than strength. In his right hand, he clutched a large metallic green machete that was perfect for slicing through thick branches and traversing through the Green Region. He carried a small pack on his back that contained an emerald Kanohi, the Huna – Great Mask of Concealment.

I’m going nowhere fast, he grumbled to himself. I’m no tracker; I have no idea what I’m doing.

He considered heading back to the village. Maybe there, he could find a professional tracker to attempt to gain some sense of where Netruhl and Inquer could have gone. At the same time, he also began to realize that he had no clue as to where he was exactly.

Well, this could have turned out better. Lost in the woods with no food or anything… way to go, Ujama.

The Toa of the Green sat himself down on a large rock and exhaled sharply. He wished that he could have planned this search a bit better, but he realized that his being lost gave him time to go over what he had learned from Ota-Koro East’s leader, Turaga Llĕn. It also gave him the opportunity to decide on a particular course of action before going out and attempting to find his teammates.

Reflecting back on Llĕn had told him, he began to wonder of the nature of the recent Rahkshi sightings. Some Matoran had claimed to see the mechanical beings around the outskirts of the village, but there was no definite proof of their existence, at least none had popped up when the Toa of the Green was staying in Ota-Koro East.

Of course, Ujama knew that no Rahkshi operated on its own; there was always a higher power at work. He also knew full well who that higher power was, the dark shapeshifters – the Makuta. The Toa realized that the possibility of the Makuta returning to their old ways was always there. Before Uteara’s industrialization, multiple members of the species had attempted to seize control of either the Central City or Industry Region, which were believed to be the two key locations to overrun before concentrating on the rest of the continent.

Ujama smirked. Then, one day, they just… stopped. After we beat down that last three-man group, we never saw any of them try to conquer Uteara anymore.

To make matters even more odd, he remembered dispatching a Fe-Matoran to the Terra Quematha in order to see if the Makuta still resided in their territory. He returned a day later – and had somehow managed to transform into a Toa of Iron – reporting that he had seen no trace of life in the small region. It was as if the entire species had just evaporated into nothingness.

He hated to admit it, but the Toa of the Green could not help but to admit that the Makuta species was not one that he would miss, exactly. They were all extremely powerful, one being enough to cause major trouble for a six-man Toa team. From the beginning, they had always attempted to conquer Uteara. Each had their own method, but the result was always the same – the Utearan Toa would, in the end, drive them back to the Terra Quematha. In fact, back when the Toa Ryhmä still operated, the Toa of Shadow had made a point to kill Makuta while he let would-be Skakdi conquerors escape… on occasion.

He saw how dangerous they were from the get-go, Ujama thought. They may have disappeared, but if Inquer and Netruhl have as well… and Rahkshi have been seen about….

The connection was obvious, but there was still no exact proof that neither Rahkshi had been spotted nor that Makuta were behind their sudden reappearance.

“Ujama?” a voice called out from a distance. “Are you there?”

“Who’s there?” he replied. “Show yourself.”

Emerging from the brush to his right was a tall being clad in black armor. It carried a spiked mace in its left hand while clearing away some foliage with its right. It had a large reptilian head that was coated in scales, much like its dark red limbs. Its eyes narrowed at the sight of the Toa of the Green.

“It is only I, Toa,” it said. “You must remember me; I am Zha-xar.”

“Zha-xar?” Ujama repeated. “What’re you doing here? It’s-” He glanced up at the now-dark sky before continuing. “It’s getting kind of late to be traveling, don’t you think?”

“I believe that my reasons justify my being here, my friend. I have news regarding Toa Netruhl and Inquer.”

“News? What news? What happened to them?”

“You have not been to the Terra Quematha recently, I assume?” the Atreu asked.

“Nor have I ever been there. Why?”

“High atop its great cliffs of black rock, there is a fortress, a terrible and dark construct. It is owned by a single being, one that you may or may not recognize… Makuta Krevt.”

“Krevt?” Ujama said, worry filling his voice. “Wha- what does he have to do with anything?”

“I spoke with one of his associates,” Zha-xar explained. “I- I know not if this is true, exactly, but… well, he is the one who ordered the kidnapping of two Toa. It was the work of Rahkshi that caused their disappearance.”

The Toa shook his head. Krevt was a Makuta, but he was considered to be one of the worst, and when the Makuta considered one of their number to be bad, that was most certainly the case. The Toa Cevil had encountered him long ago, when he and two other Makuta attempted to take over the Central City. One of the group was killed by the other while Krevt was detained. He was returned to Terra Quematha as quickly as possible.

“Understand this, Toa – he may not have been the patient one before, but at this time, he may have simply taken the lives of the both of them.”

Ujama said nothing in response. He stared at the ground in front of him for several moments. “He’s in the Terra Quematha?”

“Yes, as I have explained.”

“Well, I know where I’m going,” the Toa said grimly. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I dislike saying it, my friend, but you are practically committing suicide if you are to storm the fortress of Krevt.” The Atreu frowned as he remembered his mission. “As I have said, Netruhl and Inquer may not be alive.”

“Then he won’t be, either.”

“You are awfully confident. Do not let that confidence swallow you whole, Ujama. Too many have fallen due to overconfidence. I would be filled with sadness should such a thing happen to you.”

“You’d also have to say to my ghost, ‘I told you so’,” Ujama joked.

Zha-xar chuckled. “I wish you luck, my friend. I will join you as soon as I am able to.”

“You can’t come?”

“I am investigating a most curious sight far past the Eastern Beach of this region. It appears to be an island, though it is on no maps. I shall make my investigation short, my friend; I do not believe I could resist the opportunity to fight beside you once more.”

“Right.” Ujama extended his arm. “Well, I guess I’d better head off.”

Zha-xar nodded and shook the Toa’s hand. “The same case is mine, Toa. I shall see you soon.”

“Likewise.” He removed his mask from his pack and placed it on his face.

With that, Ujama took off, heading northwest. He tightly gripped his weapon, even as he triggered his Kanohi Huna, removing him from the sight of others. There were to be no more distractions. Nothing would stop his pursuit to save Netruhl and Inquer. Krevt was going to have an example made of him. The Toa of the Green was going to make sure of it.

Zha-xar bowed his head slightly, as if he were in shame. I am a traitor, he said to himself, to my friends the Toa Cevil… and to the Atreu that once resided in this oh-so-cold shell. However, it does not matter… no longer does it matter. Regrettably, I have more important things to be concerned with than the life of an old friend. Perhaps Krevt will not know of Ujama’s arrival until it is too late. The Atreu gave a smirk. After all, I am not to be bothered with informing that arrogant fool of such a thing. He is a Makuta and therefore believes himself to be superior to me. We shall see, I suppose. Yes, we shall see indeed.

CHAPTER III

A shrill cry filled the air of the Valley of Death, sounding like a high-pitched shriek of death. Poison had taken a mighty leap into the sky, using its seemingly destroyed wings to fly about and glide down as it began its attack. The valley itself seemed to change soon after the Face of Death’s takeoff, as small vine tendrils were emerging through the cracks of the rocky ground even as the sky above turned a foreboding grey. Iro let out a cry of annoyance as the vines attempted to wrap themselves around his limbs and torso.

“Too scared to fight a Toa?” he shouted, hacking away at a number of vines with his axe. “Or are you too powerful to take me on?”

Poison said nothing in response. It merely narrowed its four eyes and spat a large bolt of golden-yellow energy from its beak. The Toa of Iron dodged rather easily, but the same could not be said for the swarm of vines. As the energy struck, they began to blacken, wither, and before long, die. Iro did not care to find out if his opponent’s attack would have similar effects on him.

The Face of Death circled high above the Toa, planning its next course of action. The vines that it controlled would prove, at best, a distraction while the energies at its command would perhaps spell Iro’s doom. It seemed simple enough, but Poison had heard enough about Toa to know that nothing was truly easy with their kind. They were a resilient bunch, always believing that their cause was one to be placed atop a pedestal. They never gave in to any enemy, no matter how overwhelming, and they would throw away all of their reason and simply keep fighting.

I expect as much from this little novice, it thought. If anything, he is a sure sign of the rest of his kind. He has the egotistical thinking, the self-righteous spirit, and he dares to taunt a being such as I.

It was amusing, in a way. Poison and the other Faces of Death were not able to leave the Valley of Death, and therefore rarely interacted with the world outside of the Great Barren. In its mind, it was most odd to be mocked by some child who wielded an axe and a shield and oh-so-foolishly believed that he was Uteara’s greatest gift to all. He had much to learn of what it really was to be a “hero,” as he wished to call himself.

Poison let out an echoing scream and dove toward Iro, who had his back toward the avian entity. It flipped itself over, so that its talons were heading straight towards the Toa of Iron. An instant later, he found himself sprawling into the cliff face, not three feet away from where he was standing. The impact was mild, but served its purpose as the surprise caused Iro to drop his weapons.

“I recommend… that you mock neither I nor the Faces of Death… Toa,” it screeched. “Self-confidence and thinking without your brain shall surely be your defeater.”

“Right,” Iro muttered, dusting off his armor. “I can buy that. But I don’t think I’m gonna’ be beaten today. I’ve got Toa Cevil to search for, and probably a few bad guys’ heads to bash together. This fight’s just practice for me.”

“Practice, indeed,” the Face of Death replied icily. It shook its head, slowing floating toward the ground in front of the Toa. “You still do not realize that you are not even close to defeating me. I know not whether to be insulted or entertained by your being here.”

Iro frowned. He narrowed his eyes, hoping he could keep his opponent distracted for a few more moments. “Maybe both,” he replied, shrugging.

“I may be more inclined to lean towards the latter. After all, you have not provided any true form of fight against me. All you have done is utter a few meaningless words, words that will be forgotten soon after you are reduced to a stain on the rock. Of course, that is only to be if you realize that the hero’s life is not for you. We – my brothers and I – know all, as is our nature. We know what was, what is, and what shall be. You, Toa Iro, may fear what is to come, but perhaps by knowing, you can accept this reality.”

“What in the world are you talking about? Stop trying to mess with my head.”

“I would not need to try to if I so truly wished,” Poison spat. “As for what I am speaking of… it is simple, really – the mighty Toa Iro is to defect from his side of light… and shall become the ultimate warrior of darkness.”
______________________________________________________________

To the west of Iro’s fight was the small piece of land known as the Terra Quematha. It was based off of an ancient language’s way of saying “scorched earth.” Incredibly large cliffs dominated the landscape as the rough waves of the ocean beat down on their westernmost side. Once, the Makuta species resided in this region of black rock, freezing climate, and constant fog. They were guarded by a group of Toa, whose duty was to make sure that no Makuta escaped the area. While they did not do an exceptional job at that, they did accomplish one major thing – the extermination of the majority of the species.

Once with a population of over one hundred, the Makuta were reduced to a little more than twenty in number. Those that survived were scattered across Uteara. Of the guards, there was no sign, though it was assumed that they did not survive much longer after the Makuta had “disappeared,” as the majority of the continent would say.

However, one of those survivors would return to the Terra Quematha. He would look upon his old home – or prison, as he claimed – as the perfect spot for his greatest project. Two hundred years after seeing his brothers and sisters murdered, he would finish his grand fortress, his twisted creation born of steel, flame, and shadow. He would look upon his new base of operations and see that it was good.

His name was Krevt. He was a rather brutal sort known for his strength, rage, and his love for the destruction of Toa. The last was something shared by all Makuta, but he was considered to be almost an extremist. Krevt also had a lust for torture, using his acid-based weaponry to interrogate Toa, Skakdi, Skrall, or even Matoran if he was bored on a given day. He was also an extremely cruel fighter, not restricted to any form of morals. He would be happy to snap the bones of any being; it did not matter who they were.

Krevt was short for his kind, being a few inches less than eight feet. His armor was blood red and a polluted green, making him stand out amongst his brethren, who preferred to wear black suits of armor. He had clawed hands and feet resembling those of a bear. Resting on his neck was the bestial red Kanohi Mask that acted as both his entire head and face. It was elliptical with a small row of fangs coming out of its mouth, which was vertically positioned. Two spikes erupted from the sides of the mask, where ears would be on most beings’ heads. Lastly, two large crimson eyes glowed from behind triangular slits, filled with both mirth and madness.

He rested on a throne of bones, much like those that made up the anatomy of Toa. He gave something that could be called a smile as he picked up a skull. He arose and began to wander the main chamber of his fortress. A large glass window dominated the right wall, giving view to the Terra Quematha, a small portion of the Great Barren, and the Green Region. While Krevt was a being of darkness, he smiled as he gazed at the sun.

Are you coming, Ujama? Are you coming to visit me, your old friend from so long ago? You must surely believe that I have your pathetic friends Netruhl and Inquer. Oh, I wish I did so that I may send you their entrails. It is truly the only proper “hello” I can give to you. His fist clenched around the skull, reducing it to dust. Once, long ago, I singlehandedly destroyed the group of Toa that was meant to guard this region. Now their bones are nothing more than furniture for me to sit on. I wonder, Ujama, what I am to make out of you.
______________________________________________________________

“That’s a lie,” Iro growled. “You can’t seriously expect me to just go to the side of darkness ‘cause you think I may or may not, can you?”

“No, Toa, I expect you to because you mortal beings value your own lives above all else, as if they were truly something to be admired.”

“‘You mortal beings?’ What are you saying – that you’re immortal ?”

“Well, it is the truth,” Poisoned replied. “The life infused within me is never-ending; I have no… expiration, just as the concept of which I represent has none.” The Face of Death glanced upward at the grey sky. “Do you believe that evil can be destroyed, Toa?”

“I think that it’s my job to try to, regardless of whatever you’re trying to pull with that ‘ultimate shadow warrior’ junk. I’m not falling for it.”

“Then you are as foolish as I have believed, although I suppose my… minimal attempt to see if you were corruptible has failed. Evil is a concept that has existed since the beginning of time. I am sure that one of the first beings committed some small sin, which inspired another of his kind to commit one of greater magnitude, and so on and so forth… until evil as it is currently defined was born. Now… now that it lingers in the minds of all, it cannot leave. For, of the trillions of souls that exist in this universe – and the trillions more that exist elsewhere –, there is always one… always one being that decides that his life can only be bettered by committing a sin… and then the process is revived until his place of residence is flooded with evil. There are thieves, crooks, liars, and many more, beings considered only a small plague, but they carry evil within their souls, within their spirits.” Poison’s head abruptly turned to face Iro, its dull gold eyes flashing with a touch of anger. “And I, Toa… and I am the spirit that suggests that the path to be taken is the one that involves lying, stealing, murdering, and worse. I am what you mortal beings look like behind your masks, behind your façades… the hideous face of evil… is merely a reflection of what you truly are.”

“I don’t know what to think. You’re evil incarnate? It doesn’t make sense… why do you want me here? Why am I here, anyway?”

“There is no such thing as absolute good, I know. However, perhaps we can arrive close to it. I suppose there is no reason that I lie; I cause enough of that sort of thing and wish not to reflect on what I do any further. Uteara is in danger, Toa, and not from the darkness of a number of pathetic Makuta, those foolish shapeshifters that believe that one tragedy in their history is cause for global domination, a thought meant for young Skakdi and brain-dead Yzaates.”

“So who’s threatening Uteara?”

“Oh, if I told you everything right now, you would have no cause to continue to fight my brothers. No, you must defeat the five of us in order to receive the knowledge you wish to know.”

“I’m not sure that’s motive enough for me to keep fighting. Why should I fight you when I could be out finding the Toa Cevil?”

“Should you attempt to leave, I shall simply kill you. Believe my words, little one; if I truly wished to, I could do so without regret.”

“Threats. That’s nice. Nothing motivates me more than being threatened with dea-!”

Iro suddenly began to cough. It became more and more violent, as if his lungs had been filled with excess amounts of unwanted substances. After a few moments, his stomach began to hurt while he began to spew up blood as he continued to cough. He dropped down to one knee, dropping his weapons as this sudden sickness came over him. It lasted for several minutes before the Toa of Iron finally – and slowly – began to stop.

“Wha- what in the world was that?” he exclaimed in a rasped voice. “What are you trying to do, kill me?” He let out a final cough, though no blood came from his mouth. “What kind of creature from the void are you?”

“I did not think that you were sincere in your fearing of death. As I was to reveal, you very much are, but prefer for your skin and your armor to remain strong while your mind races with fear. Furthermore, I said that I am easily able to kill you. I did not state that it would be quick nor did I say you would be without pain…. I must also stay true to the literal meaning of my name ‘Poison’ by exercising some use of a toxic substance.”

The Toa of Iron turned his head and spat, the foul taste of his own blood filling his mouth. His eyes darted upward, his elemental power being put to use.

A fist of iron shot down from the air directly above Poison. Iro watched, as in his mind, the fight was soon to end. The fist hit its target, landing with a loud thud. To the Toa’s surprise, however, a wall of dust emerged, surrounding Poison. He decided to wait for a moment or two before checking on the fallen Face of Death.

Suddenly, the metal fist flew out of the cloud of dust. It traveled at such speeds that were impossible to dodge. Iro attempted to inch out of its way, but instead wound up catching the brunt of the projectile, and was slammed into the wall of the cliff once more. The impact, this time much greater, was enough to knock the wind out of him while completely disorientating him. Before his eyes shut, he saw the dust subside, an uninjured Poison slowly making its way toward him.
______________________________________________________________

Iro’s eyes snapped open as he inhaled sharply. The world around him faded in from darkness as he exited his unconscious state. He gritted his teeth as he was overcome by a sensation of pain. The Toa of Iron was about to question how he had been knocked out when he saw the monstrous shape of Poison heading for him. He glanced at a horribly dented metal fist to his right, which brought back the memory of having his nearly-foolproof plan foiled.

How in the world did he survive that without a scratch? the Toa of Iron questioned. It- it hit him, didn’t it?

Poison did not seem like it was to be bothered with such a question. It simply continued its march toward its opponent, flashing its pitted black beak in what seemed like victory. In truth, it was not entirely in the wrong to believe that it had won this battle. After all, it had reduced Iro’s attack to nothing, and even took advantage of a dust cloud that had suddenly appeared without explanation to use the Toa’s projectile against him, this time the fist of iron hitting its target. Lastly, with Iro temporarily taken out of the fight, Poison had all but won at this point in time.

I can’t let that happen, Iro thought. This thing knows it can win, and it knows it has the power to beat me… and maybe it does. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give in.

The Toa of Iron slowly and unsteadily made it to his feet, halting Poison for a short moment. The Face of Death gave something close to a shrug and began to summon corrosive energies from within its beak. Before it could release them, however, Iro let out a loud cry and charged forward, driving his elbow into Poison’s feathery chest. He followed up quickly and efficiently, using a sweeping kick to fell the avian being while commanding his axe to come to him with a use of his elemental power.

“Don’t move,” he barked. “I’m not afraid to take you down for good.”

Poison laughed as it lashed out, forcing Iro back a few steps. It rose to its talons and continued to cackle in a rather disturbing manner. “Yes… perhaps you are not afraid to destroy me, Toa…. However, that is not how this is… meant to be. These battles – or the first, at least – are not so difficult. No, you have not seen… what it is to battle all five… nor do you know the… horrors that my brothers… are capable of.”

“Care to give me a preview?”

The bird-like Face of Death smiled evilly. “Next, you shall face Arrogance… and though it is as its name suggests, you are in greater danger than you believe…. Afterwards is Anger, the third of our kind. Following Anger are Brutality and Fear… and there is debate as to whether any being can survive the both of them….” Poison paused for a long while. “I always appear to be easy to defeat, as I am never one for long combat. I shall leave you with a… warning: Do not continue believing that you are capable of defeating my brothers…. Continue with the mentality of a slave under a vile master – survive so that you may gain one single opportunity to strike. Otherwise, you are doomed.”

With that said, Poison faded away from view, a caw of defeat filling the cold air in the Valley of Death. It was soon replaced by a new being, one not so hideous. It was about the same height as Iro, but seemed to be more muscular. It was clad in bright gold and silver armor that seemed to be forged from the sun it was so brilliant. Behind its golden helmet were two acidic green eyes that seemed to be dissecting the Toa with a gaze. Its expression behind its headgear appeared to be dull and unimpressed. In its right hand was a small metal pole that was being slowly twirled about in a rather bored manner.

“Arrogance, I’m guessing?” Iro asked.

“Indeed…” the being rumbled. “Are you a Toa?”

“Yeah.”

Arrogance rolled its eyes. “I am amazed that you defeated Poison. That is not so much an accomplishment, but I was sure that your kind was incapable of such a thing. I suppose that it does not matter. Your ‘adventure’ or whatever it is you wish to call it is to stop here.”

“And you’re gonna’ stop me?”

A flash of light went off around the Face of Death, forcing Iro to shield his eyes. Once it was gone, the form of Arrogance was gone, replaced by the shape of the Toa of Iron himself, albeit it dressed in gold and silver. The pole that it wielded was gone, replaced with a massive golden axe, while its helmet was reshaped into the Kanohi Eniden.

“No, it is not I that is to defeat you, Toa,” Arrogance replied, its voice not a mixture of its own guttural speech and Iro’s lighter tones. “Arrogance can only be victorious when the beings it affects are defeated by their own flaws, their own pride. I have always looked upon this day as a chore, child, but I suppose that does not mean that I cannot have my fun.”

CHAPTER IV

He was dead. The Toa of Fire named Takuma lowered himself to his knees and placed his right index and middle finger on the neck of the deceased. There was no pulse. Takuma frowned. He had never seen a dead being before, and this experience would make him wish that he would live on without having to see another. The thought of an empty shell, a cold empty body, lying on the ground motionless, it was rather strange, and a part of him wished that he could simply leave.

The body was that of a Turaga, elder beings that ruled the various regions of Uteara. He wore a thin suit of stone grey armor over a dark tan suit. However, not even minutes ago, he was a Toa, tall and strong. He had said that his name was Pothyn, the long-missing Toa Ryhmä of Stone. He had visited an island far to the east of Uteara’s Green Region and claimed to be viciously attacked. He believed that he was far too weak to continue the fight against darkness, and that Uteara needed new heroes. His last actions were to summon Takuma and four other Matoran to the outskirts of the Central City, and to use every bit of energy that he had left in him to transform them into Toa. With his energy exhausted, he himself was changed into a Turaga, but the release was too much for his body to handle, and he died seconds later.

Takuma looked around in disbelief at those that were transformed – Reizac, Toa of Sand; Vaa, Toa of Water; Heithrix, Toa of Magnetism; and Juthron, Toa of Gravity. For almost a thousand years, he had been known each of them as Matoran, and now….

We’re heroes together, the Toa of Fire said to himself. Whether we like it or not, I guess.

Reizac was one of two that Takuma knew as a friend. He was tall and skinny, not very strong, but with his new power, he could make for a formidable opponent in a fight. He had short black hair and emerald eyes that glowed in awe at his new form. Over his grey clothing, he now wore a suit of tan armor. He was moving his arms around, as if he did not yet believe what had just occurred. As a Be-Matoran, he had an ambition to become a hero, though he did not exactly wish everyone to know. When Iro had transformed, Reizac had become envious, and the thought had come into his mind more often, usually distracting him from his job at the smelting plant in which he, Takuma, and Juthron worked.

Well, he’s not jealous anymore, that’s for sure.

Vaa was a neighbor of Takuma’s, living in the house to the right of his own. She was silent, and rarely was seen outside of her route to work. She now wore navy blue armor over her white clothes. She had long light brown hair that flowed elegantly from her head. Although, upon staring at her yellow-orange eyes, Takuma saw a certain irritated quality that distracted from her casual beauty. From what the Toa of Fire had heard, she was really a rather bitter sort for one reason or another. However, strangely, she had a soft spot for Iro. Juthron would often kid that she had more than that for the former Fe-Matoran, but all that resulted from his jokes was the Ga-Matoran becoming more and more distant from her neighbors. Time would tell how she would fit into this new team.

She’ll have to learn to get used to it. We all will. Iro’s gone, the Toa Cevil are missing, and there’s a threat to Uteara. Who else is going to be there to protect her from… whatever it is she needs protecting from?

Heithrix was actually more an unknown person to Takuma. They both shared Iro as a mutual friend, but the Ha-Matoran never had shown any interest in joining the group’s activities when he was invited. He seemed nice enough despite that being so. According to Iro, he was a librarian, and an extremely smart one, his interests mostly pertaining to history and legends. He wore blue clothes, and his armor was a blend of silver and metallic red. He knelt down by Pothyn’s body, inspecting it for any other possible cause of death.

As for Takuma himself, he found nothing too strange about his new appearance. He still had his shaggy red-orange hair and his blue-green eyes. He had worn a bright red shirt over black pants, both now being covered in crimson armor. He was not too much of a talker, though he was liked by most of those who met him. He supposed that it was his humble attitude that made him more approachable and enjoyable… unlike a certain Ba-Matoran.

Takuma jumped as a strong hand slammed on his shoulder. It was Juthron, grinning widely. The Toa of Fire glanced at the metallic black glove that the newly-formed Toa of Gravity wore and shrugged it off. Juthron was still smiling, his pale blue eyes glowing with absolute giddiness. Over his traditional black clothing was a newly christened set of purple and teal armor.

“Hey, Takuma,” he said at last.

“What?” Takuma sighed, impatient.

“Am I a Toa?”

“Yeah, Juthron, you’re a Toa.”

Juthron ran his fingers through his light blue hair and shook his head. “I think I’m nuts. Let me get this straight – I’m a Toa?”

“You’re a Toa.”

“Reizac!” the Toa of Gravity called out. “Am I a Toa?”

“You’re a Toa, Juthron,” Reizac replied, approaching the two. “Not in here,” he added, tapping the side of his head with a finger, “but you sure look like one.”

“Well, that’s enough for me, I’ll tell ya’ what. Though… how do we know for sure? I don’t have the mask that Turaga Kohu issued me, so I can’t use that. I don’t feel any different. I think we got ripped off; I want the power, not a growth spurt.”

As he said that, a ripple of energy formed and struck Vaa, who was standing by herself to the left of Heithrix and Pothyn’s body. She shot up a few inches and landed on her backside. Her eyes met with Juthron’s, matching the qualities of an inferno. She stood up, held out her arm, and shot a bolt of water from the palm of her hand. It hit Juthron in the chest, knocking him over.

“Ιdiot,” she muttered.

“Stop it,” Heithrix snapped, looking at both Toa. “You may have the title, but you surely haven’t earned it yet, both of you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both іdiots. Honestly, attacking each other? In front of the body of the man who made us who we are now? We’re putting his decision to make us Toa to shame already!”

“I never wanted to be a Toa,” Vaa retaliated. “I didn’t ask for him to kill himself just so I could die a few months later in some fight.”

“I didn’t ask to be transformed,” Heithrix shot back. “But you know what? I’m not going to complain about it. I’m going to accept my destiny and be sure that my duty to my home is done. And if I have to die fighting for Uteara, then so be it.”

“He’s right,” Takuma added quietly, helping Juthron up. He spared a glance at Reizac, who nodded in agreement. The Toa of Fire sighed sharply. He was a bit shy when it came to speaking, and would find himself feeling a bit awkward trying to express his thoughts and feelings. “We’re making fools of ourselves in front of Pothyn. He- he wanted to make heroes… not a bunch of Matoran in Toa armor.”

“Well, he sure got us wrong,” Vaa said. “We’re neighbors and nothing more. I’m not even sure why I’d be thrown into a group with you guys; I’m sure Braxel or someone would fit the hero role better. After all, we have a timid Ta-Matoran, an eccentric Be-Matoran, a smart-mouth Ha-Matoran, me, and… Juthron.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, eh?” the Toa of Gravity asked, crossing his arms. “I’m not Toa-material? Yeah, well, you’re a stuck-up pessimist, Vaa. You didn’t see the Ryhmä or Cevil act like that! And, yeah, I think I would rather have Braxel here.”

“Guys, calm down!” Reizac stated. “We don’t need this! Not now, not in front of Pothyn!”

His attempt at peace seemed to have no effect on either Toa. Vaa took three quick strides toward Juthron, and the Toa of Gravity began to bark in her face. He was met with harsh words from his “sister.” Reizac soon stepped in trying to keep the argument from becoming physical. After a few moments, and after seeing Juthron clench his fists, Heithrix rolled his eyes and tried to keep his friend from doing something that he would regret.

“Guys…” Takuma said softly. “Guys, come on. That’s enough.” No one seemed to pay attention to him. “Seriously… guys….” If anything, the argument seemed to worsen, with Reizac having to struggle to keep Vaa and Juthron apart. “Guys!” the Toa of Fire muttered, raising his voice. “Oh, come on… this always happens to me…. I’m always ignored. Not now.” He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “ Shut up! ” he yelled fiercely.

The four Toa stopped yelling for a moment and stared at Takuma for a while. Yelling was unlike him. In fact, from the expression on his face, he looked to have been forced to do such a thing.

Reizac’s eyes were wide. He could have sworn he had heard more than “shut up” coming from his friend’s mouth…. No, it was merely his imagination, he decided. “Geez, Takuma… I don’t think I’ve heard you yell before.”

“Looks like he came through,” Heithrix added, a small smile on his face. “I think they needed it.”

“Listen,” Takuma said. “Whether we like it or not, we’re Toa now. And we all have got to accept that. We may not get along, but we have to learn to work together… ‘cause we’re a team. If we weren’t, we’d have been transformed individually. Pothyn was scared out of his mind when he was talking about something threatening Uteara, and he’s the first Toa of Stone on the planet. He’s seen a lot, I’m willing to bet. We have to put Uteara before ourselves… and that means you, too, Vaa.”

“Well, if we’re a team,” Juthron interjected, “we’re gonna’ need a leader. I think I could do good.”

“You also think that ‘Myrkky’ describes a swamp, you oaf,” Vaa spat.

“I say Takuma should be leader,” Reizac said. “He looks like the most level-headed of us all. Sure, he’s quiet, but I’d rather have him over a loud-mouth any day.” The Toa of Sand stared at Juthron, chuckling to himself.

“I agree,” Heithrix declared. “Kind of, at least. I say he should lead only for now. I think we should find Iro. He’s no veteran, but he can at least train us to use our powers. He was trained by Ujama, so he’s got to have some good knowledge in that head of his.”

Takuma nodded. “Yeah, ‘til we find Iro. I don’t think I’m too big on this leadership thing. I doubt I’ll have an outburst like that again.”

“Vaa? Juthron?” the Toa of Magnetism said. “What do you guys think?”

Vaa gave a shrug in annoyance. “Sure, why not? He’s the best we’ve got, I guess.”

Juthron looked at Takuma up and down. He circled him twice, and on the third time, he ruffled the Toa of Fire’s hair and laughed. “Tak’s gonna’ be the almighty leader of us castaways?” he asked teasingly. “Well, if he’s leader, I get to come up with a team name.”

“What’ve you got?” Reizac inquired.

“Hmm…. I say… ‘Toa Liiri.’”

“‘Misfit heroes?’ Seriously?” Vaa said. “C’mon, there’s a better-sounding name than that.”

“I like it,” Heithrix replied. “Nothing else could fit this group any better. I’m sure Iro and Braxel and maybe that ol’ stuffy Xinlo would get a kick out of the name.”

“Toa Liiri…” Takuma mumbled to himself. He turned his head, looking from Reizac to Heithrix to Juthron to Vaa, who rolled her eyes at him. “Toa Liiri, it is, then. As leader, I approve.”

“Well, then we’ve just got to make a reputation for ourselves,” Reizac said. “So… uh… where do we start?”

“I say we start by getting’ Pothyn here to Turaga Kohu,” Juthron replied. “He’s governor; he should be able to pull together a funeral or somethin’, I’d think. After, I say we get into his armory.” When no one responded, he added, “I heard Kohu has a stash of Toa Tools in the Capitol Tower. Then we should ask Iro to start training us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Takuma said. “Um… as leader, I approve, I guess.”

“Ya’ gonna’ be sayin’ that a lot, eh, Tak?”

“It sounds neat. Makes me feel important.”

“Great, so let’s get on with this,” Vaa said, already heading back to the city. “We don’t want to wake up the old geezer from his nap, do we?”

“I think she’s a great addition to the team, Tak,” Juthron muttered. “Seriously, great job Pothyn choosing her above Braxel or someone else. Think we could have her traded for a team mascot? I hear Fe-Bulls are easy to train.”

“You’re just mad that she would’ve taken you down in that fight,” Reizac retorted. “I was protecting you from her, ya’ know.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not like I could’ve done much. I’m not a total іdiot; I’m not gonna’ hit her or anythin’.”

Takuma smiled as the two continued to dog each other as Heithrix picked up the deceased Pothyn and hauled him on his back. Yes, it was tragic that a life had been lost, but now Uteara had something that she had been lacking – fresh heroes ready to be trained to defend her in a heartbeat. It was good, so when the Toa Cevil or Xinlo grew too old for combat, the Toa Liiri and even more new Toa would succeed them.

He looked down at the ground before heading off. He caught a glimpse of his own hand… and what he saw made his eyes widen in shock. The tips of his fingers, once rounded and smooth, were now sharp and pointed, like those of a beast. Feeling an odd sensation throughout his mouth, he opened it and felt his front teeth. They had become angular and jagged, mirroring the teeth of a carnivore.

“What in the world?” he gasped. He looked at his hands again and saw that they had returned to their normal form. “What in the world ?” His teeth had been reverted to their natural shape, as well.

“You okay, Takuma?” Reizac called out from a distance.

“Yeah… I’m okay,” he replied. “I guess…” he added to himself.
______________________________________________________________

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Ujama spat as he glanced upward. Before him was an extraordinarily large cliff face crafted of black rock. Not long ago, he had arrived in the Terra Quematha after an hour’s worth of travelling from the Green Region.

The cliffs had to be one or two miles high. Even better, they looked to be very precarious for climbing. Krevt, evidently, had some sort of strategy in mind when building his fortress. From his point of view, the Toa of the Green could see the two largest towers of the construct. He frowned and shook his head at the sight. If he were to fight Krevt, scaling these cliffs would drain him of the necessary energy to defeat the Makuta. There had to be another way; there just had to be.

What would Tyverus do? he asked himself. He’d… think of a decent plan. That’s helpful. Ugh, you’d think saving Netruhl and Inquer would be hard enough. No, the hard part’s getting to the fortress. Everything else should be as easy as a game of Kings and Seconds.

He thought about his own natural abilities to find a solution. The Huna mask would do absolutely nothing, he decided, so there was no point in thinking about it. His power was over all plant life – trees, vines, leaves, flowers, herbs, and more. He did work, however, with a number of botanists to create a unique species of plant that was simply a large mass of vines. They were durable, large, and could crush ten feet of steel if they were so commanded. Remembering a tale that he had once heard, he had nicknamed them “Morbuzakh.”

Well, maybe it’s time this thing came in handy. I’m willing to bet that it could get me up there. Or, at least, it could get me high enough so that the climb’s not so bad.

It was worth a shot, he supposed. Without anymore thought, he summoned a single Morbuzakh vine, which shot out of the ground next to him. He sheathed his machete and placed his mask in his satchel. The vine wrapped itself around the Toa and continued to emerge from the ground. Slowly at first, he began to gain altitude. He began estimating how far he had passed – twenty feet, fifty feet, one hundred… and still the vine rose.

When there was approximately forty feet of cliff left to scale, the vine had stopped. Ujama looked up and nodded slowly. If he worked as quickly as he could while still being cautious, he would be able to make it to the top in about five to ten minutes. He unsheathed his machete and leaped from the Morbuzakh’s grasp. The Toa stabbed his weapon into the cliff face as he grabbed onto a small outcropping with his left hand. Making sure that his weapon was well dug into the rock, he began to lift himself up, clutching a protruding part of the cliff with his free hand. In one swift motion, he freed his machete and jabbed it into the rock once again.

Well, I guess my question was void. Tyverus would’ve never done anything this stupid.
______________________________________________________________

Ujama’s left hand grabbed onto the grassy surface that was the top of the cliffs. He immediately slammed the tip of his weapon into the ground, following with a front flip that allowed him to land on something solid. He gave a miniature bow to no one in particular and chuckled.

I’m staying in shape. I guess scaling mile-high cliffs with nothing but death below you really helps with your cardio.

A slow sarcastic clapping could be heard coming from somewhere. Ujama turned his head around, looking left and right for the source. He then decided to look at the fortress, and there it was. Krevt, his old nemesis, was in front of the entrance, flanked by three Rahkshi – one black, one green, and one yellow – and two blue and gold robots that the Toa did not recognize. The Makuta was not armed, but Ujama knew that he merely did not intend to fight just yet.

“Krevt!” he shouted. “You’re lookin’ a bit short from over here! Come out and fight, you pathetic piece of shadow scrap!”

“Words are nothing,” the Makuta growled in response. “You and I both know that you and yours are incapable of any true form of action. Threaten me all you like; if you do not fall to my minions, you shall to my superior power. Should I mail your bones to Llĕn, or shall I simply add them to my throne? Alternatively, I could simply put your head on a stake and have it as decoration to impress my visitors.”

“As if you’ll get that chance, you barbarian. Now hand over Netruhl and Inquer. This is between you and me.”

“I did not know that Netruhl and Inquer were in the vicinity. Did Zha-xar throw their darkened corpses near here lately?”

“Oh, don’t think I’m falling for that nonsense. Zha’s my friend; he has nothing to do with this other than telling me that you had them. It looks like one of your associates ratted you out to him, too; that’s how he found out about your miserable plans.”

“My associates?” Krevt repeated. “I work with Tora, Vraal, and Methenor – all Makuta – but Zha-xar is also an ally of mine. We work together, and our latest conspiracy was the kidnapping and corrupting of Netruhl and Inquer. They are on the island of Kehtyva, far to the east of the Green Region.”

“Wait, Zha mentioned seeing an island there that wasn’t on any charts. How do you know about it?”

“I would say that I helped construct it, but I have a large enough reputation for being a grand deceiver. No, no, it is the main headquarters for the organization called the Head of the Spear, of which we five are members.”

“Zha-xar… what’s his role in this?”

“Oh, he was the one to kidnap the two Toa Cevil. I suppose that you three were friends with him at one time, making him the prime candidate to do the deed. Yes, we Makuta could assume the form of a being the three of you trusted, but is it not so much more entertaining to learn that your actual friend has betrayed you?”

“I still don’t buy it. He’s a good guy. I’ve fought by his side; he would never betray his friends. He- he just got bad information from your snitch, is all.”

“Oh, Toa, you are so amusingly in denial. The shadows have a reputation of hiding the truth, but know that if the truth can cause harm, then we shall let it be revealed.” The Makuta began to fade from view in the act of teleportation, his last words directed at his Rahkshi and robots, “Decimate the intruder!”

Well, this ordeal can wait for a bit, Ujama decided. I’ve got some Makuta minions to beat down. I’m glad these things aren’t really alive; I need to do some real damage every now and again.

CHAPTER V

Iro hit the ground hard. A moment ago, he had been suspended twenty feet in the air atop a massive iron pillar, and then the next thing he knew, impact. His landing, to make matters worse, was extremely awkward, what with his left arm now suffering some form of damage. As he painfully made it to his feet, he moved his arm about, checking to see if any major harm had come to it. He glared at the being responsible for his injury – a silver and gold replica of himself, or Arrogance, as it called itself.

Getting hurt’s one thing, he told himself, but I’ve yet to even hit this guy. C’mon, Iro, this is ridiculous; I beat Poison kinda’ easily. Why can’t I beat down this copycat?

The Toa of Iron smirked as a thought filled his head. It was possible that Arrogance could have adopted more than his appearance, powers, and weapons. The Face of Death may have possibly absorbed Iro’s battle strategies, and would therefore know how to counter his attacks while using its unknown tactics to defeat him. That would not suit him at all.

Gotta’ do what I usually do. Talk with him; bother him. Keep him focused on me, not what I’m doing.

“Of course, that is easier said than it is done,” Arrogance barked. “Your thoughts are mine to read; I do not need to bother with absorbing your strategies.”

“That’s an unfair fight, don’t you think? I mean, I know nothing about you. You have my looks, my powers, and my weapons, but what else can you do?”

The Face of Death gave a particularly nasty chuckle. It said nothing, but from its golden axe emerged a wave of some sort of energy. In truth, Iro could not tell. All he knew was that he had to keep on his feet, dodging whatever Arrogance had in store. Unfortunately, one of its own powers was able to carry an amount of surprise, freezing the Toa in place. The energy whirled around and wrapped itself around his torso and limbs. All that was not coated in the substance was his head and neck.

“Not energy…” Iro muttered. “This is… gold.”

“Indeed, it is. Why should I bother fighting you with a metal that you can control when I can trap you in a shell from which you cannot escape?” Arrogance paused for a second. “As they say in one culture or another, gold is the trap… but silver causes the ire.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

A gigantic pillar of metal erupted from the ground, three feet from the Toa. It struck him in the chest, causing him to let out a grunt of pain. However, Arrogance had not released him from his golden cage, and it was fully capable of doing such a thing again. The Face of Death dropped its axe and crossed its arms.

“I must hear your surrender, Toa!” it yelled. “Cry for mercy, little weakling! Cry, so that Uteara may hear your final pathetic groveling before death is to come over you!”

“In your dreams,” Iro spat. “Do your worst, Arrogance. I won’t give up. I won’t surrender.”

A second pillar of silver, this one about one foot in diameter, emerged from the ground. It targeted the Toa’s legs, striking them twice before returning into the ground. Yet, Arrogance was not finished. It waved its arms, commanding the pillar to rise once more. It battered Iro’s body for twenty seconds before the Face of Death commanded it to stop. Although, this time, it did not disappear into the ground, but rather stayed on the surface, ready to beat the Toa into submission.

“Surrender, Toa! Your pain can end by simply stating that you wish it to!”

Iro shook his head, but could not muster up any words. He simply willed his mask to float off of his face and spat some blood in front of Arrogance.

“You believe that you are strong,” the Face of Death stated. Its color scheme suddenly changed, and it now mimicked Iro’s appearance perfectly. “I know better. All mortals have limits; that is why they die. Poison may have caused you a touch of illness, but I swear that I shall cause you true pain!”

“Go to the void,” the Toa gasped in a rasped voice. “You- you’ll get some sympathy before I surrender.”

Arrogance shrugged. Iro’s prison evaporated and was replaced by four cuffs of gold, two around his wrists, and two around his ankles. Three more pillars of silver emerged from the ground, two to his sides, and one behind him. Each was three feet in diameter, matching the reconstructed pillar in front of him.

“Shall I become sympathetic? No, there is no sympathy. You only feel pity. Would your friends assist you in this torture? No… they would only watch… and they would feel nothing but pity for your pain. It is saddening to know that, is it not?”

“You… you don’t know my friends….”

“I do not, though I know your kind. You are all the same… pathetic creatures that were created by one of two Great Fools who had just emerged from the mud. Just as I have broken many others over my lifetime, I shall break you, Toa Iro. Believe my words, for I am able to put action behind them.”

Before Iro could even think to reply, the two pillars on his sides rocketed towards him.
______________________________________________________________

Kohu grimaced at the sight before him. It was a body, one that he was able to recognize despite not seeing it in over a millennium. It belonged to the former Toa Ryhmä of Stone, Pothyn. The governor of the Central City shook his head and looked at the five tall beings before him, the newly transformed Toa Liiri. His gaze met each of them, and he frowned once again. It would appear that they were ignorant to Pothyn’s past, and considered his passing a tragic occurrence. For the Turaga of Sonics, it was a chore, more or less.

The six were in the governor’s chamber of the Capitol Tower, located in the middle of the Central City. The Turaga was at his desk doing paperwork when the five Toa had entered his room, presenting him with Pothyn’s body.

He stroked his long grey beard before speaking. “It seems,” he said finally, “that Pothyn has finally decided to show his face around Uteara. It is… unfortunate that it has to be under these circumstances.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Reizac, Toa of Sand, asked. “I mean, he’s a hero. He should get a proper funeral, I think.” He turned to the other four Toa, Takuma and Juthron nodding their agreement.

Kohu sighed. He stared at Takuma, saying, “I suppose you do not want to test your new powers?” Seeing the stunned expression on the young Toa’s face, he added, “I’m just going to order a cremation…. That was a joke.”

“That was grotesque,” Vaa spat. “I didn’t know you were like that behind your public face, Kohu. What, do you have a crematorium hidden somewhere in this tower?”

“Well, I know who didn’t vote for me last election,” the governor shot back. “Shame. I have been in office since this city was built, and I was created by Deccius himself for this sole purpose. It would be unfortunate if my millennium-long term would to end one day.”

“With all due respect, we’re not here to talk politics, Governor,” Heithrix said hastily. “We came here to do what we need… and I can tell that you and Pothyn weren’t exactly the greatest of friends, so I’d rather not stick around to see a cremation.”

Kohu chuckled. “You’re the librarian of the group, aren’t you, Heithrix?”

“How’d you know my name? We- we’ve never actually met.”

“I have my ways. Let’s simply say that I’m… not surprised that you five were transformed. Regardless, let me tell you a story, one of a twenty-one man Toa team.”

“The Ryhmä?” Juthron inquired. “Were you a Toa when they were around?”

“I? A Toa? Juthron, you make an old man laugh. No, I have never been a Toa. None of the governors have been. Anyway, let me tell you about Pothyn. I knew him when he was in his prime. He was not like Ujama, Tyverus, Myrkky, or any of the more pleasant Toa Ryhmä. He was a loudmouthed hypocritical instigator. The Toa Cevil never mention the Toa Ryhmä of Shadow’s name, but I feel that Pothyn’s name should be erased from history instead.”

“What did he do?” Heithrix said. “All I know is that he disappeared during the whole ordeal with the Shadow.”

“I’d thought that he had died, myself,” Kohu explained. “But as for what he did… it is simple, really. He – and he alone – was responsible for starting the chain of events that many blame on the Shadow. The Shadow wished to simply end all threats to Uteara, his methods perhaps more gruesome than how we handle threats today. Pothyn, being the ignoramus that he was, decided it best to anger the Shadow by destroying documents kept in his dwelling. The rest is history.”

“So what you’re saying is-?”

“Had Pothyn not made one decision, we would probably have a much more peaceful Uteara.”

“I’m not seeing anything too hectic, though,” Vaa said. “Unless you’re hiding something?”

“I hide nothing more than a theory,” Kohu answered. “A… plausible one, yes, but it’s still just a theory.”

“What are you talking about?” Takuma asked. “Is something going on?”

“Let’s simply say that four missing Toa doesn’t exactly register as a coincidence in my mind, my friend. And, as governor, I may have to assume that the worst has happened to them.”

“You think that Iro and the Cevil are dead?” Reizac exclaimed. “No way! I talked with Iro yesterday morning; he said he was going to meet with someone about his transformation.”

“Did he say with whom he was going to meet?”

“Ye- well, actually… no…. He- he didn’t.”

Kohu frowned. “You can see why I assume he has passed.”

“And the Cevil?” Heithrix added. “What about them?”

“Llĕn reported that he last saw Ujama three nights ago. Ota-Koro West reported that all three were missing. Something happened to them.”

“Wait…” Juthron muttered. “How many Toa live on Uteara? Ever since the Terra Quematha guards disappeared, I’m willing to bet we didn’t have a lot. Ujama, Netruhl, Inquer, Iro, Xinlo, and Kara… that was it before we were transformed.”

Kohu nodded. “Four of the six Toa disappeared, and Xinlo and Kara are in retirement. Even so, I’m willing to bet that they’re in danger. You may be, as well, Toa Liiri. Not immediately, but in due time, the force that caused four Toa to vanish may find out that Uteara has five new heroes.” The elder paused for thought. “The second and third generations of Toa…” he mumbled to himself, “no, most of them disappeared after Terra Quematha…. Kaansu? No, he left Uteara long ago….” He sighed heavily. “Seven Toa,” he said at last. “Uteara has seven Toa. That’s it.”

None of the Toa Liiri knew what to say. All they knew was that there was some apparent force causing the Utearan Toa to disappear, and that all five of them were Utearan Toa. It was a fearful thought, but Kohu was correct – they were all that Uteara had. They all realized that if something was offing Toa, it most likely had thoughts of conquest.

“Well, what are we gonna’ do?” Juthron asked at last. “Are we gonna’ run or fight back?”

“Fight back?” Vaa retorted. “Ha! We don’t have a clue in the void about what’s causing Toa to disappear! We can’t fight a shadow! We’re better off heading off to Tukaia or Deax Nui or… or somewhere .”

“We may have to,” Takuma said. “Keep our guards up, try and subdue whoever or whatever’s hunting down our Toa.”

“You’re kidding,” Vaa snapped. “You’re just going to march us into whatever’s going on? What kind of leader are you?”

“A ballsy one,” Juthron replied, placing his hand on Takuma’s shoulder. “But I’m with Tak. If something wants to pick a fight, we’d better give it one.”

“Heithrix, you’re not ludicrously insane,” the Toa of Water cried. “Talk some sense into them! If we stick around, we’re just sitting on our deathbeds!”

The response did not come from the Toa of Magnetism, but rather from Kohu. “Little girl, how dare you? Uteara is your home, and you are so quick to abandon it. Is your life more worthy than the thousands that live here?” he seethed, his eyes blazing, and his words sounding like cracking ice. “You are a traitor for those words, and I am surprised that I do not have it in me to jail you for treason.”

“He’s right, Vaa,” Heithrix said. “It doesn’t matter if we asked to be Toa or not. We are now, and that’s all that matters. We have the duty to defend Uteara and its citizens from any threat, be it a natural disaster or some sick psychopath.”

“I don’t believe it,” Vaa uttered quietly. She glared at each Toa Liiri, and then at Kohu. “You’re all insane! You want to end up like Iro and the Cevil, gone without a trace? Do you?” When no one replied, she shook her head. “I’m out of here, then. I’m not going to throw my life away.” With that, she stormed out of the room.

Reizac inched forward to stop her, but Takuma shook his head. “We’ll keep an eye on her. If something tries to make her disappear, we’ll stop it. We’ll convince her that she’s safer with us.”

The Toa of Sand shrugged. “Whatever you say, Takuma. She’d better hope that whatever’s not in the Toa-hunting mood today.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Juthron asked Takuma. “We’re gonna’ need some practice with our powers. And we’re also gonna’ need some weapons, so that we can at least defend ourselves a little.”

“I can help you with the latter,” Kohu said. “I keep these in storage in the event that new Toa emerge.” The Turaga of Sonics opened up a small closet to the left of his desk and brought out a medium-sized crate. “Take your picks. And if you plan on having Vaa return, choose something for her.”

Reizac knelt down and reached for a black javelin. He nodded his approval as he admired its sleek design. Heithrix grabbed two twin projectile weapons, Aseiden, by name. From the design, he realized that they were meant to focus the user’s powers through the energy spheres that they shot. Takuma chose a crimson staff with three heads, each shaped like a flame. He posed around with it, making sure that it was comfortable enough for his use. Juthron eyed a long thin sabre, but wound up tossing it back. Instead, he decided upon two sleek black boots with booster rockets on the heels.

“I guess we’re ready, then,” Takuma remarked. “Any last words of advice, Kohu?”

“I will say that it’s probably wise to see if you can get Xinlo and Kara to train you with your powers. Tell them about what’s happening. If you all are constantly together, perhaps you have a better chance evading disappearance than our fallen heroes did.”

The four remaining Toa Liiri gave their thanks to the governor before leaving. They would need to learn to use their elemental and mask powers quickly, and they knew that the task would not be easy. However, with a very real threat to Uteara, they had no choice but to make haste. Takuma marched in front of his friends as they exited the tower. Whatever happened to him back in the Great Barren would have to wait until later to be dealt with. His home was much more important. Little did he know, what had happened was a condition… and it would perhaps change him entirely.
______________________________________________________________

Iro let out a cry of agony. For the past few minutes, he had been suspended high in the air, trapped by golden bonds from which he could not escape. As it had turned out, his fight with Arrogance was less of a fight, but more of some sort of sick test. The Toa of Iron was being pummeled by pillars of silver, which were just different enough from the element of his control that he could not do anything to stop the assault. The Face of Death wanted him to surrender, so that it could kill him for failing the challenge.

Needless to say, Iro was in pain. His left leg was limp, and the entirety of his body was bruised and battered. He was barely hanging onto consciousness, and he knew that he would not be able to handle too many more beatings. Arrogance would offer him a change at surrender every two or three rounds of pummeling, but the Toa had refused each opportunity thus far. If he were to die here, he would go the hard way.

“You are so near death, Toa!” Arrogance announced. “This is your last chance to surrender! If you wish to ease your pain, simply say that it is so! I can feel your spirit cry out for mercy! Are you so egoistic that you are to die in such a way?” After a moment, it realized that its captive was in no condition to reply. “Nod your head if you wish to end this. I ask nothing more.” Iro did nothing. His dark blue eyes simply stared at the reflection of himself, filled with cold fury. The Face of Death gave a shrug. “Very well, Toa, you have brought this upon yourself.”

The two pillars to Iro’s side and the one behind him shattered, leaving only one left. The tip of the column in front of him suddenly reshaped, becoming a pointed stake. His eyes widened. He had not expected that his death would be in this way. He had thought that Arrogance would merely continue with the same process of pounding him with the metal pillars. He had no words left in him. He looked down at the ground below him, inhaled deeply, and shut his eyes.

An instant later, he felt the sensation of travelling through the air, followed by the feeling of hitting solid rock. He let out a groan of pain before opening his eyes. He glanced upward to see Arrogance standing above him, its arm extended toward him. Iro noticed that it had reverted to its original form. He slapped its arm away, deciding to help himself up.

“I was offering my assistance,” the Face of Death muttered. “You need not attempt to prove yourself to me any further.”

“P- prove myself? No… I just went through… torture, pretty much, so I could prove myself to you? What kind of sick person are you?”

“I am known as Auqrāt,” Arrogance replied. “In one language or another, what kind of… person… I am is in my name.”

“So what now? Do I have to go through with this three more times?”

“Twice, I shall admit. Brutality and Fear are not what one could call merciful. Anger is a battle, one you are more accustomed to. There shall be no ruthless beatings in this next challenge; I can guarantee at least that.”

Iro said nothing. He was too busy staring at the wounds that he had obtained due to Arrogance’s own challenge. His armor was cracked in some places, altogether shattered in others. His skin was bruised and discolored by the crushing impact of the metal pillars. The thought of going into another fight was out of his mind. He knew that he would need to be treated for the damage done before he could continue with anything he wished to do.

“Ah, yes, as for what I have done to you,” the Face of Death said. “I suppose that you would not be wise to battle Anger in your current condition. I am able to leave a small gift with you.”

Before Iro could respond, Arrogance exploded into a bright light which bathed the Toa of Iron in its glow. He soon became numb to all of the pain that he had been feeling. In fact, he was now in better health than he was before even fighting Poison. The healing light eventually subsided, revealing no trace of the gold and silver being that had caused it.

It wants me to go on. It’s like it knows I’m supposed to face them all. He sighed loudly and gazed at his new form, impressed. It knows how to make a convincing argument. But do I want to go through that again? He glanced upward at the valley around him, which was apparently home to the five Faces of Death. I guess I could. If anything, it’s made me stronger for the experience. And besides, maybe Arrogance was just exaggerating about the last two. I think I can go through with it. The Toa then reflected on something that Poison had said. I’m not sure that these guys’ll give me much of a choice, anyway….

CHAPTER VI

Silence on Kehtyva was not a strange thing. There was much to be done on the island fortress, but the leader of the faction called the Head of the Spear requested that the walls be made soundproof, while his followers were not to interrupt his thinking. Due to the fact that his followers were four Makuta and one Atreu, noise was never an issue, as Krevt usually tended to his own base of operations in the Terra Quematha, and the rest simply preferred silence.

His name was Ulreq, the faction’s leader. He was rarely seen outside of his throne room, yet he seemed to know exactly what was happening not only on Kehtyva, but on all of Uteara. Methenor speculated long ago that he had more agents than the Makuta were aware of monitoring the continent, though Ulreq had denied this. He claimed to be close to Uteara, that he knew how it worked, and that his essence could sense a disturbance when one appeared.

He was quite a towering figure, one could say, standing at about twelve feet in height. No commoner would see a being that tall on a regular basis. He was dressed in a suit of glossy ebony armor that was decorated with dark rubies. His armor was rather basic in appearance, somewhat mimicking the appearance of a Toa’s suit. He was not coated in spikes, and his mask was not exactly frightening such as Krevt’s or Tora’s, but an eerie aura around Ulreq made him rather imposing. He wore a helmet over his head, a majestic and simple shape. It was ancient, and its design was not from Murtua, but he claimed it as his own. Behind his mask were two dull yellow eyes that glowed in a rather sickly manner, looking somewhat diseased, and very much unhealthy.

Moments ago, he had stopped the Toa named Netruhl from attempting to destroy Tora out of rage. It was amusing, as the self-proclaimed Shadow Lord knew that the now-corrupted hero would have probably been able to. Everything was going according his plan, even after Vraal’s little accident.

That Makuta had went through a series of experiments that were meant to remove every trace of light from his body. It worked, but it also created a separate entity with Vraal’s appearance that had no trace of darkness. It had escaped its bonds and headed straight for Uteara. Needless to say, Vraal was tasked with subduing the creature so that it would not become a potential annoyance.

After a moment, Ulreq started. He quickly rose from his throne, his eyes widening. His connection to Uteara sensed that something had happened. One Toa had died, but in his place were five new ones. The Shadow Lord was prepared to storm out of his throne room and announce their creation, but stopped himself. That was not the course of action he was to take, and he knew it.

The Head of the Spear was continuing with their quest to conquer Uteara, despite the recent leave of Vraal’s. Krevt was to defeat Ujama and bring him to Kehtyva to be corrupted. An agent of his, the Sansta-Skakdi of Plasma named Promethius, was sent to cut short the lives of Toa Xinlo and Toa Kara. The only other Toa that had been existence for a good amount of time was Iro, and he had disappeared. The fact that Ulreq could not sense where he was gave reason to believe that the Toa of Iron was dead.

Yes, it would make sense for Pothyn to create a new team of Toa for the purpose of defeating us. I allowed him to escape this fortress because I knew that he would die before he made too many aware of our existence. However, these new Toa – Toa Liiri, as they call themselves – could prove to be a small thorn at my side. I am too intelligent to leave them active. No, they must be brought to Kehtyva, and they must be either corrupted or eliminated. Perhaps my new ally is able to be of some assistance….

“What is it?” a sharp voice growled. “Has something happened?”

The sound came from the being that had been standing to the right of Ulreq’s throne. He had a tall and muscular build. He was covered in emerald scales that acted as a layer of protection, though his torso and limbs were partially coated in green armor at certain places that could be considered weak points. He had four arms, the lower two ending in claws that were similar to those of a crab. They were also flexible enough to fold behind his back when not used. Jutting out of his shoulders were two large wings, though they appeared to be meant for gliding as opposed to actual flight. The most noticeable thing about this being, however, was his serpentine head. It was scaled, like the rest of his body, and when he spoke, two long fangs, similar to a cobra’s, were clearly visible. Atop his head was a green crown of sorts, though Ulreq did not care enough to find out what it meant.

“Toa are always proving to be pests,” the Shadow Lord explained, his voice sounding like the rumbling of a volcano before eruption. “You, Venom, know this as well as any of us of the Head of the Spear. It appears a new group of five has managed to form during our process of eliminating the Utearan Toa.”

“Say no more, Shadow Lord,” Venom replied. A grin formed on his face, though it lacked all traces of mirth. “I know what you want me to do, and I gladly accept. Do you want them dead or alive?”

“Do as you please,” Ulreq said. The Head of the Spear leader frowned. Despite his past, he now believed himself to be above bloodshed. “I tell you only this – do not stay this fortress with their blood; I do not wish to appear to be some sort of monster.”

Venom looked at the Shadow Lord up and down. “The being who is leading four Makuta to conquer the grand continent of the west does not wish to appear to be a monster? I am an exile from this planet, Ulreq, and in the place of my banishment, I have seen my fair share of monsters. From speaking with you for about… oh, ten minutes, I will say that you put some of them to shame.”

Ulreq chuckled. “You have not seen what I consider to be a monstrosity, then. Go, now. Be quick, and you will have guaranteed your place as a member of this organization.”

“You will not regret this alliance, Shadow Lord. I swear it; you have made a great decision by including me in your plans.”

However, Ulreq was no longer there to reply. Rather, Venom was no longer on Kehtyva. He was standing in front of a large city, the deep dark blue sky of night high above him. Instantly, the former exile recognized it as Uteara’s Central City. He smiled viciously. Once, he was the protector of this place. Now, it served him as the grounds for his hunt. He was about to enter the city, when a large blunt object struck him in the back. It did no damage, but it was enough to garner his attention.

The being who had hit him was a Skakdi. According to Ulreq, it was actually a Sansta-Skakdi. The prefix “Sansta” was derived from an archaic term meaning “greater than.” This group of Skakdi had full control of their elemental powers, whereas most others did not. It looked no different than any other of its kind, standing a few inches over seven feet with a bulky upper body and long muscular legs that were built for running. This one wore grey and reddish-brown armor, and had the customary outer spine of a Skakdi. In its right hand was a small metal club.

“Promethius,” Venom muttered to himself. “That is you name, am I correct?”

“And you would be Venom,” the Skakdi replied, unimpressed. Noticing how the newcomer was only a few inches taller than him, he continued. “You’re shorter than I’d imagined. Anyway, I assume that you’re aware of what we’re here to do. Ulreq just told me that five new Toa were created, and that my job’s been extended to take out all seven now.”

“Are you an agent of the Head of the Spear?” Venom asked.

“No, I am the leader of a group of assassins called the Piraka. I decided it best that I take on this job, as the only other that’s qualified is up in the Ice Region, taking out the political rival of Turaga Vīces.”

“Vīces? Is he not the governor of the Industry Region?”

Promethius smiled conspiratorially. “Yes, he is. However, having his life threatened may have… persuaded him to sell out his city to the Head.”

“What is to happen?”

“Oh, the Industry Region is just going to provide the Head with weapons and whatever they produce that Ulreq thinks is necessary or interesting. Vīces will be Ulreq’s little puppet, making laws and such that’ll make the place ripe for whoever’s going to succeed him. My bet’s on Methenor. It’s nice to think about, but I’ve my rules, Venom. We’re on the job as of… now. So, you see, we can’t get distracted. We can’t start letting thoughts of the future cloud the present.”

Venom nodded approvingly. “Well, then, let us get going. We cannot have that future without focusing on our present.”

Promethius grinned widely. “You get it. Let’s hurry it up, then. We can’t worry about the future, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to get it to come to us quicker.”

“Is that one of them?” Venom asked, pointing to a figure walking in the far distance. It had appeared for but an instance, but the warrior’s keen sight had spotted it.

“I don’t know,” the Sansta-Skakdi replied. His smile simply grew wider. “But who cares? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t hunt one for sport.”

The former exile chuckled and unsheathed a large sword with a serrated blade. “Not a chance for that. Come, Promethius; we have our prey now.”
______________________________________________________________

Two hours – it had been two hours since Vaa had left the Capitol Tower. She had been wandering the Central City, thinking of what would become of her life now that she was a Toa. Her future did not look particularly bright, at least in her own eyes. After all, there was some maniac running about, kidnapping or killing off Toa like nothing. She truly believed that such a fate would be hers if she did not act soon.

And I will. I’m getting on the first boat out of this place; I’m not going to wait for this… thing to come and get me.

The Toa of Water noted her surroundings. She was walking in the northern district of the city, somewhat close to her home. This suited her well; she would start to pack her things and be ready to leave Uteara. She would begin a new life elsewhere, meet new people, and find a rather safe job where she could put her new powers to use. Even better, she would no longer have to deal with people like Juthron or the others. They were so quick to throw away their lives when they could be actually living. Vaa did not understand that blatant loyalty to Uteara. She supposed her neighbors had merely spent a little too much time in the smelting plant in which they worked.

“You’re new,” a voice sounded. A quick glance to a house about a foot in front of her revealed the source.

It was another Toa, this one wearing azure clothing with black armor over it. He was about seven feet tall, around the same height as Vaa herself. He had short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was not very strong in terms of build, but he was still considered a good warrior. His name was Xinlo, the former Toa Artæva of Sonics hailing from the island of Deax Nui. Some like Iro did not take him too seriously, as he was not considered to have accomplished as much as Toa such as Ujama or Netruhl or Inquer. Vaa had never really talked to him before aside from the occasional “hello.”

“Yeah,” the Toa of Water replied. “A little too new.”

“What do you mean?”

“Xinlo, uh… I don’t really know how to say this, but… I’m Vaa, your neighbor.”

The Toa of Sonics smirked, trying to remember what the Ga-Matoran had looked like and comparing it to this Toa. After a moment, his eyes widened. “It is you,” he muttered. “You’re a- well, you’re a Toa now.”

“Thanks for the newsflash. I haven’t known that for the past couple hours.”

“Heh,” Xinlo chuckled. “You’ve still got your same old Matoran attitude. You’ll change soon enough. Being a Toa does that to ya’. If it doesn’t flip your whole world around within the week, you’ll see something that you won’t be able to un-see. Something’ll just hit you, and your whole bitter attitude will be either gone or worse.” He smiled, a dour quality in his expression. “Let’s hope it’s the first.”

“That’s great. I’ll alert the Utearan media when that happens, just so you’ll know.”

“Nice. And I’ll let you know just how much I’ll give a-”

A noise filled the air – a coarse harsh sound that seemed like it belonged to a creature. It was noticeably guttural, enough to send chills through the spines of the two Toa. It was laughter. Xinlo recognized the foreign accent as one not from Uteara or Deax Nui. It was one native to an island far away from both nations called Resvan. Only its inhabitants had that type of accent in their voices – the Skakdi.

“What is i-?” Vaa asked.

“Shut up!” the Toa of Sonics whispered harshly, cutting her off. “Someone’s near here, and he might just think to drop in on this conversation.”

Two thin shafts of energy emerged from the corner that Xinlo was facing. He shoved Vaa out of the way, allowing himself to be hit. It did no physical damage, he noticed, but he soon felt a sensation of extreme dizziness coming over him. He began to stumble about before finally falling a few seconds later. His head hit the ground, knocking him out before he could do anything.

“Who’s there?” Vaa shouted. “Show yourself!”

“With pleasure,” the guttural voice answered. “Oh, and you mean yourselves.”

Two beings emerged from the street perpendicular to the one in which Vaa and Xinlo had been talking. One was a Skakdi, clad in reddish-brown and grey armor. He wore a sadistic grin on his face, his red-violet eyes shining with mad glee. His companion was tall and covered in scales, like a reptile. It had a serpentine head with two long fangs hanging out of its mouth. Both seemed to seek a fight, and the Toa of Water was less than ready to actually deal with one.

“The name’s Promethius,” the Skakdi said, bowing ever-so-slightly, “assassin for hire. I would give you my card, but you’re a hit, and printing is so expensive nowadays. Shame. This is Venom. He… he just hates Toa.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Venom hissed. “I am certain it cannot be yours, little girl.”

“What do you want with me?” Suddenly, an idea dawned in her mind. “Are you the ones kidnapping the Utearan Toa?”

“Ah, such a feat would be only mine to dream,” Promethius replied. “But I’m an honest man; I have to give credit where it’s due, and it’s not mine to take.”

“As for what we are to do with you,” Venom added, “we have decided that the both of you will simply be eliminated. Neither of you appear to be very fit for Tora’s corruption process.”

Vaa took a step back. If she could get a good enough start, she could possibly be able to outrun the two villains. Sure, she had heard about the Skakdi species’ legendary speed, but if caught by surprise, perhaps this Promethius would not be able to catch her. It was worth a shot, she decided. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done for Xinlo. He was lying on the ground, unconscious, with no way to defend himself. She contemplated somehow using her powers to save them both, but she was a bit too frightened to think properly.

“Do not run…” Venom said, giving a hissing laugh. “You cannot escape.”

Promethius nodded. “We Sansta-Skakdi have much better reflexes than our dimwitted brethren. Try to run and I’ll be in front of you before you take four steps.”

Vaa gulped. She stepped backwards once more, but did nothing else. In the darkness, Venom and Promethius looked like gigantic monsters, creatures from the void. They reminded her of things that people would base horror stories off of. In truth, they were true monsters, and they were both true horrors. One made a living off of the death of others, and he willingly caused it. The other was a creature so terrible, so evil, that the Great Being Deccius could do nothing but to exile him from Murtua. They were, in fact, the fiends that horror stories were made of. The problem was that they were all too real – all too real, and they wished to kill her.
______________________________________________________________

Ujama nodded his approval at the sight of the remains of Krevt’s fortress guards. Three Rahkshi and a couple of other robots were all the Makuta could muster, apparently, and the Toa of the Green was more than fit enough to have handled them all. It was a brief skirmish, ending without a single scratch dealt to him. He was now ready to take on Krevt himself. He activated the power of his Kanohi Huna, allowing himself to fade from sight, though a shadow would still be casted.

He slowly made his way into the fortress, the gigantic entrance giving way before him in a moaning creak. The interior was dark; almost pitch black if it were not for the light from the outside. Ujama crept along, trying not to make any noise. He knew that if he did not do so, Krevt would be on him in an instant. When he was about ten feet away from the entrance, the gates slammed shut, a sharp screech followed by a loud bang. There was no more light.

This is excellent, just excellent. Can’t fight a Makuta without doing it in the dark. Of course, if I could see, it wouldn’t be as bad. Also, if Krevt weren’t perfectly able to blend in to the shadows with that chameleon power of his, I’d be able to put up a fight.

“You would, is that not true?” Krevt said. His voice came from everywhere at once, most likely the manipulation of his sonic abilities. “Unfortunately, I could not possibly care less if you are able to do battle. You should realize, Ujama; all I want is for your blood to stain the floors of my fortress.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be up for something brutally violent like that. Too bad. You can’t see me, and I can’t see you. So I guess it’s an impasse.”

“For now,” the Makuta replied. “Step into the light, and I shall see your shadow, while I am forever hidden under a layer of illusion.”

“Just like your kind, eh? Never willing to really fight, just want the bloodshed.”

“Why should I bother with the trivialities of life when I can simply move onto what I truly wish to accomplish?”

“You tell me. You’re the one with the master plan here, it seems.”

“I am only but a servant. As a demeaning term as it is, that is what I have been reduced to. No, my… ‘ leader ’ saw that it would be more appropriate for we Makuta to be unified under a single ruler, that we were more effective in that respect. He believed that we were the scum of the earth, but we were still formidable scum. Such words are always pleasant to hear after your species has been demolished.”

“Sounds like your leader got the right idea down. Might be the first villain to have a working brain in his head.”

Krevt chuckled. The air was soon filled with his dark, booming laughter. It was chilling, made even more unpleasant due to the chamber’s freezing cold temperature. “He knew that you would agree, Ujama. After all, he knows you very well.”

“What are you talking about, Krevt?” the Toa asked. There was no response. “Krevt?” Only silence remained.

Ujama noticed a light forming in the direction that he was facing. Was it perhaps a new chamber? Probably, but it was also likely that Krevt had a trap prepared for him. The Makuta was always thinking of others, it seemed. Regardless, he would have to move on. Gripping the hilt of his machete tightly, he slowly walked into the light.
______________________________________________________________

Ulreq continued to sit in his throne. He was thinking of something that he did not truly wish to think about, his own past. It was one shrouded in darkness, one he dared not to recite often. He had recounted it briefly and vaguely to the members of the Head of the Spear, explaining that he was, in fact, the former Toa Ryhmä of Shadow. Immediately, Krevt and Vraal expressed their discontent with following a being who was once a Toa. The Shadow Lord simply showed the two a brief exercise of his power, prompting them to keep their opinions to themselves.

They question my power. They believe I am to be examined, that I am a being whose weaknesses are to be determined so that I may be overthrown. My little Makuta, my little dark servants, truly must comprehend that there are beings that are far above them, and that I am one of them. Forty-two restricted powers are nothing compared to what I am capable of.

Ulreq had no list of abilities to be enumerated. If he wished to perform an act, then he would do so. It was merely his nature. Even as a Toa, he had detested working under limitations. He despised the foolish moral code that Avira, the Toa Ryhmä of Light, had created. According to her, the Shadow Lord should have never killed his enemies, and he should have always made an effort to assist them if they were on the verge of death.

Does a gardener show mercy to the weeds? Do scientists allow viruses to grow and multiply? Simply put, they do not. Weeds and viruses are to be eliminated, for they do not benefit society. What logic, then, states that beings such as Makuta were to be left alive to plague Uteara?

He stopped himself from allowing more thoughts to enter his mind. He had conquest to focus on. He did not have the time to waste with his petty dislike of the Makuta. They were willing enough to follow his rule, and he knew that he did not have the right to be picky when it came to his minions. He would deal with them long enough before he would eliminate them. As for Zha-xar, his Atreu ally, he would be left alive. He proved to be of more use than the Makuta at times.

To prove my point, Krevt is soon to make a mistake by allowing Ujama to be left in the light. The Toa’s need for justice outweighs Krevt’s childish need for bloodshed. I suppose I should set an example to this group by allowing my brutish little fool to live. Yes, I need them to believe that I am willing to act when they are in danger. I need that they be loyal, that they be obedient.

The Shadow Lord stood up and closed his eyes. He rested his arms at his side and envisioned the grand fortress of Krevt. He began to illustrate the details of the Terra Quematha in his mind’s eyes. When he was satisfied, he disappeared from view, even as the door to his chamber slowly opened.

CHAPTER VII

His name was Methenor, a Makuta and a member of the Head of the Spear. He was enough to send chills through the spines of the dead. His build was hunched, as though he were some sort of elder among his kind. He was made of black and ghastly orange armor. He had two dark red eyes, though they never glowed. It was impossible to tell if Methenor was actually looking at a being, or if he was staring at something else entirely. Most conspicuous of the Makuta was his Kanohi Mask. It was a large octagonal shape with fang-like teeth resting in its mouth that always appeared to be in the shape of a maddened smile. The slits for the eyes were rather large, resulting in a very unnatural, almost demonic appearance. Strapped to his arms were large curved serrated blades that served but one purpose – the rending of anything he wished.

He was the single most untrustworthy Makuta in existence, many would say. While reputed as a cunning strategist, the risk of allying with Methenor was not worth the results he would potentially produce. In fact, if things did not go well in terms of planning, or if Methenor was endangered, he would typically leave any and all of those with who he allied to die, or even kill them himself. Krevt could testify to that, and he still held much resentment for his “ally.”

It is ironic in a way, he thought, that my nature of being a deceiver and a traitor sprung from others. No, before I was a much more honest Makuta. Now, I am plainly and simply Methenor.

He grimaced as he entered Ulreq’s throne chamber. The Shadow Lord was not very fond of visitors, something Krevt had learned about thrice thus far. This Makuta’s purpose was more important than Krevt’s incessant bumbling, however. He had remembered that Ulreq wished to stage a complete takeover of Uteara. While such a cause was not hard to forget, in and of itself, it was distracting to a certain fact that had not dared to rear its ugly head until now.

The Head of the Spear was currently composed of seven beings – Krevt, Methenor, Tora, Ulreq, Venom, Vraal, and Zha-xar. Uteara, while suffering from an evident lack of Toa, was populated by thousands. How, then, were they to stage a successful takeover without either being overwhelmed by the nation’s numbers or causing an excessive amount of casualties? The question supplied Methenor the will to be frank and question Ulreq on this matter.

The evident lack of the Shadow Lord’s presence made his voyage a grave disappointment. He sighed vehemently before looking around the room to see if there was anything he could damage and later blame Vraal for. After becoming dissatisfied at the evident bareness of Ulreq’s throne room, which was just a large empty chamber with a single black throne in the center, he shrugged and decided to leave.

“You seem unhappy, brother,” Vraal’s barking voice chuckled. The Makuta was leaning against the wall to Methenor’s right, arms crossed. He was tall, dressed in elegant crimson and gunmetal grey armor. He had dull red eyes that seemed to carry a trace of restlessness in them at all times. However, there was one thing that made him stand out among all other Makuta – the fact that he was made of flesh, bones, and blood. The experiments that he had undergone forced him to revert to his old form. His face was concealed by a sleek black mask. “Tell me, what upsets you?”

“I am upset that you wish to romance Tora when you have free time,” Methenor spat. “Truly, we are a professional organization, and I do not condone such acts. Regardless, I must ask – why are you in this fortress? I had thought that you were to subdue your clone before you were to return.”

Vraal frowned behind his Kanohi Hamu, but said nothing.

“I see. You were in relationship with Tora before our evolution? I suppose that now that you have regressed, you have the same feelings as the other… well, flesh sacks, as I enjoy calling them.”

“I see nothing wrong with being made of flesh.”

Methenor took three quick strides and tore away Vraal’s mask. He brutally backhanded his ally’s face, causing him to yell in pain and surprise. He walked to his original standing position, turning to face the tall Makuta. “Were you able to feel that?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes!” Vraal hissed. “What did you do that for?”

“Pain… it is what separates we Makuta from Toa, Yzaates, Skakdi, and the others. We cannot feel it as a gaseous substance. To become darker in spirit is not worth surrendering your virtual immortality. I say that you should attempt to recreate your evolution, so that you may return to your more powerful stature.”

“I like a challenge,” Vraal spat, “and I shall prove to you that I am stronger yet in this old body.”

“Very well, I know what we may be able to do. I propose a wager. You have obviously had some sort of trouble subduing your vezon; that is evidenced by your being here to make idle chatter. Our wager shall be this – I give you one single week to defeat and destroy it. I must have proof of this, so you shall bring its head to Kehtyva. Do this, and I shall undergo the process of regression. If you do not, you shall resign from the Head of the Spear.”

“I accept that wager. I am most certain that I would be able to detain this… pest.”

“If you believe that you can, do not speak of it. Go, now… go and subdue your nemesis. Otherwise, remove yourself from my line of vision for the rest of eternity.”
______________________________________________________________

Iro grabbed the small grey satchel on his back and dug through it in search of water. He came across a small flask. Satisfied, he removed the cap and drank thirstily. He let out a sigh of contentment, and then placed the flask of water back in his pack. It had been about ten minutes since Arrogance had disappeared, leaving the Toa of Iron to wait for the arrival of the next Face of Death – Anger.

He had become relatively bored, and so decided to toy around with his elemental power. His first thought was to attempt to see if he would be able to control precious metals, as Arrogance could. While Iro was unable to do so in the actual battle, he supposed that if he had enough practice, he could extend his control of a few common ones to all things metal. It was a curious ability, as it was unknown if it actually possible. The first Toa of Iron, Harveil, had been rumored to train himself to control anything that had even a trace of metal in it, but it was possible that he was unique in that sense.

Iro closed his eyes and focused on a spot about four feet in front of him. He pictured a small pillar of silver emerging from the sand. He motioned the fingers of his right hand to point upward, his traditional hand signal to cause columns of iron to rise. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes to see that a pillar had formed, though upon further inspection, it was revealed merely composed of iron.

However, after the Toa of Iron willed the column to shatter, a strange being was revealed to be behind it. It was composed entirely of yellow-white bone, though its torso and lower arms and legs were clothed in crimson armor. It had a hunched figure, and its spinal column was clearly exposed, as were its ribs. Its head appeared to be the skull of a cobra, complete with a set of dented fangs. No eyes rested in its sockets, though Iro felt that it could still sense his presence. In its left hand was a large dual-sided hook, fittingly made of bone.

“Anger…” the Toa of Iron stated. As he saw the creature, he placed his mask over his face. “Well, I guess it’s time to start, then.”

The Face of Death’s voice sounded like the howling of a faraway wind. “Anger is my proper title, but you may call me Custais. It is time, indeed, Toa. I am sure that what Arrogance has said has provided some sort of confidence that I shall be easy to defeat, as Poison was. However, this is not the case. No, you shall see that I am not downed so easily.”

Anger extended its right arm and fired a bolt of electricity at Iro. The Toa dodged, and the electric attack struck the large rock that he had been leaning against. Upon impact, it crumpled to dust.

“I don’t think Toa of Lightning are that powerful,” Iro commented. “How’d you get it to do that?”

“I have been in this desert each day since its creation, unable to leave. I had to be sure that my power was adequate for this day, Toa. I am capable of defeating each of my brothers in combat, and I suppose that I must also be strong enough to defeat you, Toa Iro.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Indeed, we shall,” Anger replied, twirling its hook weapon with its fingers. Before Iro could react, it charged forward, striking him in the midsection with its right elbow. Having expected some sort of energy or projectile attack, the Toa was caught unprepared. While a mediocre strike, it was enough to send him stumbling back a few steps.

Anger swung its hook at Iro, wrapping one of its heads around his torso. It followed up by using its surprising strength to hurl him at the cliff face. The Toa of Iron called upon his elemental power, summoning his axe to his side. A bit stunned by the impact of hitting the cliff, he hesitated for a second before attacking. The Face of Death was sure to take advantage of its opponent’s pause, calling forth its power over electricity. It hurled two twin blasts of yellow-white lightning a spot of the cliff directly above Iro.

The Toa, predicting the outcome of Anger’s attack, rolled out of the way. A split second later, a large sum of rock and debris poured over the spot where he had once stood. Somehow prepared for his survival, Anger surged forward again, bringing its hook back, then jabbing it forward. Left without his shield, Iro decided it best to use the flat of his axe defend himself. As it turned out, the metal axe was strong enough to withstand the force of a creature made of bone. The Toa of Iron smashed his opponent’s weapon away with his own, and then landed a solid uppercut to Anger’s head with his left hand.

The Face of Death shook its head clear, stunned by the force of the blow. It retrieved its weapon before speaking. “You are stronger than most Toa,” it muttered, a bit impressed, “perhaps not in your mind, but rather in physical strength.”

Iro said nothing in response, simply awaiting Anger’s next attack. It took him a few seconds to realize that his opponent was also waiting for him to make the first strike.

Well, I guess I could try to attack first. So far, this fight’s been about quick, decisive strikes, trying to end it all in one blow. It’s obvious it has something planned, but I don’t know against what attack. Is it expecting me to come after it in an all-out assault, or does it want me to use my elemental power?

He grimaced. After all was said and done, Anger was proving to be more a puzzle than anything. It relied on using key movements and distractions to make Iro expect one sort of attack, and then striking with something else entirely.

Maybe that’s what I have to do. Maybe I have to make it expect something other than what I want to do. It’s a good thing to keep in mind when I actually manage to think up of something.

He began to move to his left, his eyes focused on Anger. The Face of Death nodded and began to follow him. Before long, the two had started circling one another, both still waiting for the other to attack. Anger tapped its fingers gently on its hook, catching Iro’s attention. The Toa gripped on his axe more tightly, but stopped himself from acting on his impulse to send a pillar of iron at his opponent. The Face of Death smiled devilishly at the fact that its attempt to fake Iro out had failed. It knew that, if he had taken anything from these challenges, he had learned to fight with a bit more patience.

Iro placed his axe on his right shoulder, his eyes still fixed on Anger. He flicked his right wrist from time to time, trying to reveal that his next potential strike would involve his weapon. To its credit, Anger, too, was resisting the temptation to attack. It continued to twirl its hook, passing it back and forth between its two hands, its dead eyes locked on Iro.

It felt like a half hour had passed, and the two combatants were still stuck in a gridlock. Neither had decided to make their move. The Face of Death did not tire, so its focus was still maintained. Iro, on the other hand, was starting to feel the true weight of his armor and weapon. He felt the heat of the desert, and sweat dripped down his face. He knew that his concentration was faltering. He began to stop noticing potential opportunities to attack Anger, and he knew in his mind that it would eventually realize that it was letting its guard down on occasion.

I’m gonna’ have to do something, and fast. If I even look away, I’m willing to bet that I’m finished. Times like this, I wish my mask would work. With the Mask of Knowledge, I could just scan it and locate some sort of weakness. Too bad, this is the perfect time to use its power.

After a few more minutes, Iro had decided upon a new course of action. He would have to hope that a dual attack, combining his elemental power and his own might, was out of Anger’s consideration, that it would not be fully prepared to deal with both. He inhaled deeply. There were no regrets at this point; he would have to stick with his plan if he wanted to end this fight.

As he let out a sharp exhale, a small pillar of iron erupted from the ground. Instantly, Anger hurled a blast of lightning from its left hand, even as it realized that Iro had created the column as a distraction. The Toa of Iron dodged, and then sent three more pillars flying toward the Face of Death, this time with the purpose of impact. Anger managed to dodge them all, but fell prey to Iro’s axe. He had run forward with the three columns, and after anticipating that Anger would manage to escape his attack unscathed, he swung his weapon at the Face of Death. The flat of the weapon connected with it, sending it hurtling towards the ground about five feet away.

Iro wasted no time, waiting at where Anger would hit. He grabbed it by the neck and slammed it on the ground.

“And that’s how it ends,” the Toa of Iron declared.

“Is that so?” Anger replied. It chuckled after realizing that it was laying on the ground, unarmed, with Iro standing over it, axe at the ready. “I see. Very well, Toa, you have bested me. I am not Arrogance; I know when I am defeated.” It rose to its feet. “I suppose that this challenge was not as demanding as my brother’s, but I am sure that you have been changed by my test. You see, when fighting Poison, your strategy was most likely composed of attempting to bludgeon it with your own strength, with your own weapons. Now tell me, what was your battle plan in this battle?”

“Well… I tried to fake you out, tried to make you attack first.”

“That did not work. Therefore, you were required to think of a new plan.”

“I thought about trying to distract you with the first pillar, then using a combination of my powers and weapons.”

“Tell me, Toa, would the Iro of yesterday have thought of such a… complex strategy.”

“Complex?” The Toa of Iron frowned when he recognized what Anger was trying to say. “Oh. No, I don’t think I’d have thought about trying stuff like that.”

“Yes, then you have passed my test. You have matured beyond your childish tactics, using even relatively simple tools such as distractions or false hints to best your enemies. Use this new mindset well, Toa…. Although, I recommend that you use your simple bludgeoning strategies during your fight with Brutality.” As Anger began to fade away, it added, “It will not give you the chance to think of what you are doing.”
______________________________________________________________

Ujama approached the light with great caution. In a pitch-black chamber, it was really the only way he should have. After travelling about five feet, he saw that the light was coming from the next room. He pushed open the door, which moved with a loud creak. His heart rate increased a bit. He was anxious to see what sort of trap Krevt had planned. The Makuta was nothing if not brutal, and the Toa of the Green had decided long ago that he would not fall victim to Krevt.

The next room was surprisingly bright. There were various tables set up, various documents resting upon them. To his right was a tall mirror, the glass stained black. In front of him was a large window in place of a wall. It gave view to the Great Barren, along with parts of the two cities of Uteara. Ujama frowned. Of Krevt, there was no sight. This concerned him greatly; there seemed to be nowhere else for the Makuta to have gone.

A sudden agony was felt in his back. He let out a sharp cry of pain before feeling the sensation of being thrown onto a table. It turned out to be Krevt, who faded into view, his spear dripping with acid. The Toa supposed that the Makuta had used one of his acid-based weapons for his first attack.

“Krevt,” Ujama muttered weakly. “You made a mistake.”

“Oh?” the Makuta asked mockingly. “What, should I have killed you on the spot? I must hear your screams, you know.”

“You should’ve. Otherwise, you have me alive. And I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Toa do not kill, Ujama. I believe you were at that meeting.”

“I don’t care. Whoever would leave you alive, Krevt, must be brain-dead.”

“Netruhl seemed to have taken a liking to your little code. After all, he could have killed me. Is he, as you elegantly put it, brain-dead?”

“He didn’t know how bad you were, and I wasn’t there to tell him. That was an honest mistake. And guess what, Krevt? I don’t make those.”

The Makuta let out a roar and charged forward. He leaped up high in the air, bringing his spear back. Before he landed, he jabbed it forward. To his surprise, Ujama was ready, and snapped it in two with one swing of his machete. The Toa cocked his head, ready for another round.

“My weapon,” Krevt growled. “How dare you? You shall pay, you pathetic creation of Deccius!”

Ujama smiled grimly. “What, are we resorting to discrimination, now, Krevt? Honestly, I’d think that the mighty Makuta’d be above that.”

Krevt snarled and teleported out of sight. Ujama twisted his body, looking around for where the Makuta would appear. He felt a change in temperature behind him, and automatically assumed his enemy had chosen that spot. He spun around and sent his fist flying into where he approximated Krevt’s face would materialize. His judgment was correct, as it turned out; the Makuta was sent falling to the floor, landing with a flat thud.

Ujama sighed. He had never killed a being before, although one of his former friends would have said that he had done worse. He summoned a Morbuzakh vine from outside of the fortress. It came crashing through the window, wrapping around Krevt with enough force to destroy his armor. As soon as it had appeared, it was gone, given the duty of ending the reign of Makuta Krevt.

For the second time today, the Toa of the Green was met with a slow, sarcastic round of applause. He had initially believed that Krevt had freed himself from the vines already, but as soon as he turned around, the Makuta was the furthest thing from his mind. The sight that greeted him was enough to shock him so much that his knees went weak. He took a step back, almost falling over as he did so.

The only word he could muster was, “ You…. ”

Ulreq nodded. “Hello, Ujama. I see that you recognize me even after nearly two millennia. I assume there is no need for reintroductions. How have you been, my old friend?”

“No…. You- you… died. I saw it! This is a trick.”

“I assure you, I am the former Toa Ryhmä of Shadow.” The Shadow Lord paused. “You are still in disbelief.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. Maybe ‘cause you’re supposed to be… dead ?”

“Ujama, do not act like Netruhl did when he realized the truth. You knew I was too powerful to die at the hands of some foolish concept such as unity. I must ask, what in the world made you believe that a combined elemental attack was enough to kill me? After all, I command the six elements you used; I must surely have some sort of resistance to them. It no longer matters, I suppose. Let the past remain in the past.”

“Wha- what are you doing here?”

“I am here with a proposal. You see, I am the leader of a powerful faction called the Head of the Spear. We wish nothing more than to have the western world be united under our – my rule. As you have witnessed, I am reduced to working through Makuta such as Krevt in order to meet my goals. However, I have no anger against Toa such as you. I ask this to you out of respect to the friendship we once shared – join my organization. I shall give you the Green Region to rule as you see fit. You shall even have my permission to keep Llĕn as governor. Your rule does not even have to be public; Llĕn can be used as a sort of façade. I shall restore Netruhl and Inquer to proper health, as well. They will be able to act as your officials. There shall be nothing but peace in your home. Simply join me, Ujama, my brother of the Green.”

“Is that why you’re here, Ulreq? You want me to join you again, like you did all those years ago? Don’t you remember what happened? You killed Myrkky, Avira, Bakovu, and Ålku. I was on your side when you did that. No. Being on your side doesn’t do anything; I felt guilty because of what you did. I couldn’t forgive myself because I was allied with the guy who murdered my friends.”

“Emotions cloud your thinking, my friend. I killed Avira and the others because they were weak. They were weak, but I knew that they would take advantage of my inexperience in my new body. Unfortunately, you and the others did not learn of this through my own words. You heard only from Pothyn that I was an evil maniacal murderer. Ujama, were you so naïve as to listen to Pothyn, of all people? He twisted the incident into his own words; he attempted to make you and the others see that I was attempting to destroy the Toa Ryhmä.”

“What? Are you saying that you weren’t? Because, if you don’t remember… you killed fifteen out of the twenty-one of us. You only left me, Netruhl, Clyvæus, Pothyn, and Harveil alive, and the only reason you let Harv and Pothyn live was because they fled Uteara!”

“I never truly knew Harveil. I cannot say I would have killed him had he not fled. As for Pothyn, you shall not hear from him for a long while.”

“You got him, didn’t you?”

“He made the mistake of attempting to attack me in my own fortress. I did not actually kill him, however. He died soon after he surrendered his Toa Power.”

“To what?”

“He did so for the purpose of creating new Toa. It was perhaps the most beneficial act to Uteara that he would commit…. Well, my brother, you have yet to answer my request. Shall you join the Head of the Spear?”

“No, Ulreq. I won’t. In fact, I’m going to be trying my damnedest to put a stop to your little group. I won’t give in to you; I know that no place under your rule will have peace. So, unless you want me around to stop you, I guess you’d better get rid of me now.”

The Toa of the Green had expected rage and threats from the former Toa Ryhmä of Shadow. To his surprise, Ulreq’s voice remained calm and almost friendly. “Ujama, I ask that you reconsider. I would feel true sadness if you were to decline. You and I are both aware of what I must do if you continue with your declination.”

“You have my answer. Do what you have to.”

“Ujama-”

“Do it!” the Toa yelled, eyes blazing. “If you’re going to kill me, do it! I’m not going to join you, and you know I’m just going to try to stop you if you keep me alive! If I’m not worth keeping around anymore, then kill me! That was your logic with our brothers and sisters! That was your logic with Tyverus! He was your friend , and you poisoned him! You don’t care about the lives of others, least of all your godforsaken friends! You’re just walking, talking metal without a soul piloting it. You’re just a cold piece of scrap now, no longer a Toa, no longer a real person. You just want everything to be your way because you have all this power. All it did, all it does is cause pain and suffering to everyone and everything. So don’t try with second and third offers; I’ll decline them all. Kill me! You know that’s what your plan was, Ulreq!”

“You seem to be very… eager to die, my friend. Do you believe that you have nothing to live for? Netruhl and Inquer are alive, albeit not in their proper health. You have an entire continent to defend. I refuse to murder you. However, since you appear to be concerned with the success of the Head of the Spear, I shall exchange your request of death for another fate.”

Ulreq extended his left arm. A thin lavender beam of power erupted from the palm of his hand and struck Ujama in the heart. The Toa of the Green stumbled backward, dropping his weapon as the energies took hold of him. He suddenly felt weak and frail, as if he were going through rapid aging. He fell to the floor, now reeling in pain as his limbs and torso felt as if they were going to collapse upon themselves. He let out a cry of anguish as the process ended. Seconds later, he succumbed to unconsciousness.

He awoke a short while later. There was no sign of Krevt or of Ulreq, but he was still in the Makuta’s fortress. He made it to his feet and let out a sigh. Ulreq had decided not to kill him, it seemed. He wondered why. The Shadow Lord was not necessarily merciful; after all, he had murdered fifteen Toa with no sign of remorse. It did not matter anymore, at least not to Ujama. He was alive, and he would now focus on ending Ulreq’s Head of the Spear.

His eyes narrowed at the reflection in Krevt’s mirror. He could not see himself, but there was a Turaga where he stood. He smirked. What was a Turaga doing in Krevt’s fortress?

“Turaga?” he asked. “Are you in the mirror? I can’t see you in this chamber.”

He turned his head to locate his weapon when he noticed that the Turaga in the mirror reflected his exact movements. His eyes widened, but he could not bring himself to believe his own theory just yet. He raised his right arm, and so did the Turaga. He lowered all but two fingers, and the Turaga mirrored the action.

“It- it’s me,” he breathed. “I’m… I’m a Turaga. How in the world am I a Turaga?”

He remembered the pain from Ulreq’s “attack.” He then recalled that the Shadow Lord had refused to kill him, but said that he had an alternative to murder. Ulreq had decided that he could not bring himself to kill his old friend, but was not apparently above forcing a transformation upon the Toa of the Green.

He thinks that I can’t oppose him now. He didn’t want to kill me… but he wanted me out of his way. So he transformed me into a weak little Turaga. I guess that’s his definition of mercy. Well, Ulreq, I can’t say that I’m going to stay out of your way. I don’t care if I’m a Turaga. I wouldn’t care if you transformed me into a no-legged, blind, lame animal; I would still find a way to bring you down. And guess what, old friend? That’s just what I’m going to do now. I’m going to stop you. I don’t care if I have to ally with three rocks and a jungle cat to do it; I’m going to stop you. This, I swear!

CHAPTER VIII

Krevt was, needless to say, furious. There was no respect for him, not anymore. The days had long past since he was considered to be a terror among men. No, he had been reduced to a weakling that allowed himself to be captured by flora, and now required quick and timely rescue. Normally, one would be thankful for being given a second chance at life. Unfortunately, the Makuta was never to be that one. While Ulreq had been “kind” enough to save Krevt from a rather stale end, the Shadow Lord made no effort to differentiate his attitude from a youth’s when being given a tedious chore. Back on Kehtyva, he now faced his leader in the throne room of Ulreq.

“Am I to receive thanks?” the leader of the Head of the Spear asked. A certain mocking quality rang throughout his voice. “I believe gratefulness is the emotion to be felt by you, my dark little warrior.”

“I am not your ‘dark little warrior,’” Krevt hissed. “I am a Makuta, a powerful entity with more power in my palm than a Toa has throughout his body! I am Krevt! Why can I not be respected for that?”

“Respect is to be earned and not given,” Ulreq replied. “Thus far, you have not earned mine. You see, from what Tora and Vraal and Methenor tell me, you are not what I would call… intelligent. Therefore, I give you simple tasks, tasks that fit within your specialties of destruction, torture, and general pain, but they do not require complex thought. When you fail at duties that an ape can accomplish, you test my patience.”

“I could have survived. I could have faced Ujama again… and I would have destroyed him if it were not for your interference!”

“You were a dead man that had not yet died,” the Shadow Lord said acidly. “Realize that had I spotted your gaseous form floating about, I would have deemed you a burden to keep as a part of my faction. I dislike the act of murder, but I do have ways of dealing with burdens.”

“A burden, am I?” Krevt roared. The Makuta fired three quick blasts of laser vision from his gleaming crimson eyes, one at Ulreq, and one at each side of him.

The Shadow Lord responded by allowing his molecules to vibrate at supersonic speeds. His makeshift intangibility let the attack phase through him with no damage caused. He appeared in front of Krevt in the blink of an eye.

“You are also an annoyance, more so than any Toa has proven to be. Dare you succumb to the eternal slumber now, Krevt?”

“You act like death frightens me. It is merely a thrill.”

Ulreq chuckled bitterly. “Is that so? Well, the day that you fear your death is the day that I shall kill you, then. It is only just.”

“‘Just?’” Methenor’s voice repeated. The hunched Makuta was standing in the doorway to Ulreq’s throne chamber, arms crossed. Zha-xar was leaning against the wall to his right. “I cannot say that I disagree, but Krevt lacks one too many brain cells to fear his own death. He is… expendable, you see. I realized that when I first met him. Eliminate him now. Spare us all his blundering idiocy.”

The Atreu nodded his agreement. “He may become a liability. The failure of this operation, we cannot afford due to Krevt being nothing more than Krevt.”

“What is that meant to mean?” Krevt barked.

“You may do something crass,” Methenor answered, “to put it bluntly.”

“You are the scum of Murtua, betraying brother, sister, ally, and enemy alike so that you may thrive. You are a schemer, and you would sell this planet to gain temporary riches. Why, then, do we worry of what I may do?”

“I believe in this cause. My reaping shall be great enough to keep me in line. Though, while this may be the case, I have a question for the one who wishes to lead me to my reaping.” Ulreq turned to face the Makuta completely, but said nothing. “We are seven. Uteara is populated well. How do you expect for we of so few number to conquer the entirety of the continent?”

“When it is the proper time, you shall know. Until then, only be assured that our success is imminent.”

Methenor’s mask shifted into a frown. “When is that time? I ask.”

“If you must insist on asking, our preparations are to be completed when the moon falls twice over Murtua. I shall answer what questions must be asked then. Until that time, however, I am not to be disturbed. Zha-xar shall act as my voice until then.”

With that, Ulreq dismissed the two Makuta. The door to his throne room slammed shut behind Krevt.

“You know that they are not to survive,” he said to Zha-xar. “You also know that your mask is to arrive soon. Once you receive it, the Makuta of this faction shall be reduced to wisps.”

The Atreu grimaced. “What if they acquire knowledge of their impending doom?”

“As per our agreement, death shall not fall upon you. If they gain such wisdom, I shall not punish you for its leak. Simply be aware that I do not intend for you to be ruler of Uteara, as I do not intend for any of the Makuta to live. However, your goals shall be met.”

Zha-xar nodded. “Dare not to sentence me to slumber, Ulreq. If things had gone by… differently, we both know that I would be in full opposition to you.”

“I am aware.” With a thought, Ulreq removed the Atreu from his chamber. “Be aware that I am not to be opposed, however, little creation of Deccius.”
______________________________________________________________

Vaa had not been looking for a fight. In fact, she had only sought for an escape from Uteara. Evidently, fate had decided that that was not to be. Confronted with two evil beings that were perhaps responsible for the disappearance of the Utearan Toa, she had no idea of what she could do. The Toa of Water was both outnumbered and underpowered. Even if she was truly capable of putting up a fight, she was left a bit too distraught to be able to use her own powers.

Promethius closed in first. He twirled his club around twice, and then lifted his arm upward. As he brought his weapon down to complete his strike, Vaa darted away. Venom fired a burst of laser vision at the fleeing Toa, hitting her in the back. She let out a cry of pain before falling onto the ground.

“It is simple,” the serpentine warrior muttered to his Skakdi companion. “Power over brawn – always.”

“I would have been able to hit her with my own vision power,” Promethius replied. “Don’t think you’re so special having laser vision; my apprentice has the exact same ability.”

“Regardless… tell me who is to finish her.”

“I’m the hired hit. You’re just along for the ride. My assignment, my kill. Trained assassin over Yzaa’s freakish flunky – always.”

Promethius brandished a small knife as he walked toward Vaa. He knelt down next to the Toa, who lay on the cold street.

“It’s always quick,” he whispered harshly, placing the blade of the knife on her neck. “I’m not a sadist.”

He prepared himself to slit Vaa’s throat. He inhaled sharply and gave a minute nod. The world always seemed to be more intense when the art of murder was to be committed. Every sound became much more clear, every sight in a quality like no other. The smells, the taste that remained in his mouth, everything became amplified as chills went about his figure. It was as if his mind allowed the clarity of everything to increase by a hundredfold. It was as if each of his kills were to be recorded and remembered. It was true. There had been a total of forty-seven whose lives were cut short by Promethius. The forty-eighth was soon to join them.

The Sansta-Skakdi of Plasma was a veteran assassin. He had been in the business for hundreds of years at this point. However, the problem was that a killing required his full focus. He could not simply stab a knife through one’s heart and call it a day. To him, death was to be dealt swiftly, yes, but he was needed to concentrate. It was the least he could do; he was, after all, about to kill Vaa.

Venom flying through the air next to him did not meet his necessary conditions of peace and quiet. His head darted upwards to see the Head of the Spear member sprawled on the ground. He turned around to see four armed Toa standing in the streets. One with purple and teal armor wore a glowing mask of power, shaped like the Kanohi Pakari, which would be the probable cause for Venom’s defeat. The crimson-armored Toa of Fire stood nearest to the Sansta-Skakdi. His arms were crossed, and his blue-green eyes glowed with anger, though it was unlike any expression Promethius had seen. It was if the heart of a beast lied within the body of the hero.

“Get up,” the Toa of Fire growled. “Now.”

“All right, all right,” Promethius grumbled, dropping his knife. He raised his hands in defeat. “Don’t do anything we’ll both regret.”

Takuma bore his teeth, each one jagged and rigid. He placed the head of his staff under the Skakdi’s chin. “Give me a reason.”

“You’re a Toa, kid. You don’t kill.”

“But you do. That’s not really fair, now is that?”

“Life’s not fair. If it were, I wouldn’t make a profit off of killing people.” Promethius smiled viciously. While his teeth were not as bestial as the Toa’s, the expression somehow remained more threatening. “Are you the Toa Liiri?”

“Yeah. What is it to you?”

“She’s a Toa Liiri, too?”

“Um… yeah.”

“Nice. Pretty little thing, huh? Would be a shame if she were to run into that psychopath who’s decided to off the Utearan Toa, wouldn’t you say? You like her pretty good, I see.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, kid. No Toa grows fangs for just some friend. She’s special to you.”

“I should fry you. Just shut up and leave with your friend.”

“What’s he goin’ off about, Tak?” Juthron asked. “You? Liking Vaa? That’s ridiculous.”

“Just leave,” Takuma snarled. “Get your friend and walk off.”

Promethius laughed. “First rule of the assassination game, rookie – one can never have enough knives on him.”

The Skakdi slapped Takuma’s weapon away. Caught by surprise, the Toa of Fire soon felt the sensation of a blade slicing through his waist. He let out a cry of pain, even as Promethius darted off, stopping only to kick Venom to signal that the time to leave was now. The two disappeared before the Toa Liiri could react.

Takuma placed his left hand over his wound and exhaled sharply. Reizac and Juthron rushed to his side as Heithrix went to check on Vaa.

“He get you good?” the Toa of Gravity asked.

“Yeah…. He got me good. Nothing critical, but it hurts like the void.” He glanced at the palm of his hand, which was covered in blood. “It was my fault. Should’ve realized he was trying to distract me.”

“I’ll check to see if I have any bandages at home,” Reizac said. “I’ll be back real soon.”

Heithrix helped Vaa up to her feet. She stared at Takuma for a few seconds, thinking of something to say. “Thanks…” she said at last. There was no bitterness or other such qualities in her voice. To perhaps even her own surprise, she was sincere.

“It was nothing,” the Toa of Fire replied. “I’m sure you’d have done the same thing for me.” His mouth curved into a smile. “Or maybe you’d have just ran,” he added jokingly.

“Right…” Vaa muttered. She looked down at the seemingly-forgotten Xinlo, who was still unconscious. “He hit his head when he was attacked. I don’t know how bad it was, though.”

Heithrix knelt down and examined the veteran Toa of Sonics for a few seconds. “From what I can tell, he’s got a concussion, but he’s fine otherwise.”

“So…” Juthron began, placing his mask in his pack, “who’s willing to bet that tall, red, an’ ugly’s our guy? Him or his green friend.”

“It’s logical,” Heithrix said. “He hinted that he was an assassin. Plus, how many people know that we’re the Toa Liiri ?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aside from Kohu and Xinlo, how many people know that we’re Toa?”

“Then who could’ve known?” Takuma asked. He glanced at his wound for a second, realizing that the bleeding had slowly began to stop. “No one was around when we transformed. Not many people have seen us. Who could’ve told that Skakdi that new Toa were about so soon after?”

Juthron’s expression turned grim. “Kohu. He… he knows.”

“You don’t think-?” Heithrix inquired.

“That he leaked some information to that Skakdi thug and his buddy? I think a lot of things. That’s one of ‘em.”

“Well, we can’t just barge into his tower and ask him. He’d deny it and kick us out, anyway. We don’t even have any evidence other than a hunch… a plausible one, but not one that we can act on.”

“We don’t know for sure,” Takuma stated. “So, let’s focus on trying to get the Skakdi for now. We’ll mention him to Kohu, but don’t let him know that we might suspect that something’s up. If he does find out, and if he is really leaking information to that Skakdi, then he could use his powers as governor to stop our mission.”

“We’d better head off, then,” Heithrix said. “I’ve done my fair share of research; Skakdi are fast runners. They cover a lot of ground in a really short time span.”

“Here’s the plan,” Takuma declared. “Reizac and Juthron will try and chase after the Skakdi and his friend. Heithrix, you stay here with Xinlo and catch him up on everything that’s happening. Vaa and I-” He stared at the Toa of Water for a moment before continuing. “Um… we’ll go talk with Kohu about what happened…. Maybe even snoop around the Capitol Tower for a bit. Agreed?”

Juthron and Heithrix nodded their concurrence. Vaa gave no response, but did not say or do anything that showed some sort of distaste with Takuma’s plan. The two began to head back in the direction of the Capitol Tower as Juthron walked into Reizac’s dwelling to inform the Toa of Sand of the new plan.

“He wasn’t right, was he?” the Toa of Water asked. “About you… liking me?”

“Uh…” Takuma replied.

Maybe more right than I’d like to admit, he thought to himself.

“Well, I don’t hate you,” he continued. “I mean… I can’t say for sure. I… um… don’t really know you.”

“So you’d take a knife to your gut for anyone, then?”

“I’m a Toa. Pain’s supposed to come with the job, I guess.”

“So you see why I don’t want to be one.”

“I guess, but… well, I kind of like it. I don’t feel helpless against people like that Skakdi anymore. I feel like I can really accomplish something.”

“Well, that’s good for you, then.” She sighed. “I think I’ve been kind of tough to deal with for you guys. I… I don’t know how to say this, but I really don’t have anything against you… not even Juthron.”

“He can get kind of annoying sometimes. He’s a good guy, though. I think he was a good choice to be a Toa.”

“We’d better hope so. You sent him after that green monster, the thing he gave a pretty good beating to. How’d he-?”

“How’d he beat him down in one blow? He told me that this morning, he got the idea of carrying his mask around with him for the day. When we saw you in trouble, he put it on for a fight. I don’t know how to make Kanohi work, but Juthron apparently figured it out.”

“So… do you really think Kohu’s somehow behind the disappearing Toa?”

“Honestly… I don’t. I mean, what does he have to gain by leaving his city defenseless? I think his rep would get worse because of that.”

“Then how’d the Skakdi know that Uteara has five fresh heroes? How’d he know what we called ourselves?”

Takuma stared off at the Capitol Tower in the distance. “I can’t say, Vaa. Maybe we’re dealing with something bigger than we know….”

CHAPTER IX

Iro faced the hulking giant and tightly gripped his weapons. The figure before him had introduced itself as Brutality – or Rras, as it referred to itself. It stood at over nine feet in height, clothed entirely in dark grey and red armor. It was extremely burly, its’ muscles appearing to be shaping the armor around them. It had two large bat-like wings whose edges were coated in sharp spines. It wore a large helmet, a blade running down the forehead, and its’ eyes were the same orange as a blazing fire. In its’ right hand was a spiked dual-headed scythe weapon. The Toa of Iron had to admit, of all the Faces of Death, Brutality fit its’ name better than the previous three.

“I give you an opportunity to defeat Rras,” it stated, its’ voice rumbling like thunder. “Strike me down with one fatal blow, one that I could not ever survive, and your test will have been passed.”

“What?” Iro asked. “You want me to… kill you?”

“You have but ten seconds to do so. If you let time escape, then we shall engage in combat.”

“I-I can’t… kill. I’m a Toa! We have a code. I think I’m better off just fighting you.”

“I repeat my statement. Strike me down, or you shall suffer from your lack of wisdom. I am as my title suggests.”

“I’m going to fight you honestly. I don’t kill.”

Brutality frowned behind its’ helmet. This little one had his morals, and he would not so easily be rid of them. Anger had taught him to fight with swiftness, with precision, and with his mind. These traits were contradictory to what the giant Face of Death was to teach. This Toa would need to learn to fight bloodily, as well. He would need to learn that circumstances could possibly force him to take the life of another.

I suppose that I shall borrow an idea from my brother Auqrāt. Pain by an arrogant captive cannot, perhaps, achieve the desired reaction. Pain caused by an uncaring monster, however…

Flames danced around Iro, emerging from what seemed to be the grains of sand themselves. They circled the Toa for a moment or two before closing in on him. Brutality extended its’ wings, prepared for a possible assault if the Toa of Iron were to break out.

For Iro’s part, the trap set up by Brutality was not a particularly difficult one to escape. All he really needed to do was summon a column of iron and jump out. However, retaining the sharper way of thinking from his fight with Anger, he could deduce that his opponent was ready for him. The Toa of Iron paused. Time was rather short, as the dancing flames continued to come closer and closer to him. Deciding his chances were best facing the giant, he went along with his plan, the pillar launching him upwards.

Brutality rocketed towards the Toa of Iron, landing a vicious blow with its’ left fist before performing a midair flip, kicking him upwards. Levitating upwards on its’ wings, the Face of Death began spinning its’ scythe about, knocking Iro back with the weapon before sending him crashing back into the ground with its’ free hand.

Iro landed hard on his chest and abdomen, releasing his grip on his weapons simultaneously with the impact. He let out a strained grunt as he attempted to lift himself up. He made it to his knees, and turned at the sound of Brutality landing behind him. The Face of Death let out a bellow and grabbed him by the back of the neck. The next thing the Toa knew, he was sent flying rapidly towards the cliff face. He shut his eyes as he hurtled towards the rough rocky surface.
______________________________________________________________

Takuma looked around nervously. He and Vaa had entered Turaga Kohu’s office a short while ago, hoping to speak to him about the Skakdi and his serpentine ally, who were suspected of being the two beings responsible for the disappearance of the Toa Cevil and of Iro. Kohu was not present, but that did not mean Vaa was going to pass up an opportunity to look through his personal desk.

“Anything?” the Toa of Fire muttered, on edge. He stood in the doorway of the small room, his back to the interior. “He might be coming back soon.”

“Nothing to suggest he has any connection to the Skakdi. The most interesting thing I found was a piece of paper.”

“What was interesting about it?”

“Come here,” Vaa said. Takuma smirked and walked behind Kohu’s desk, where the Toa of Water was holding a small parchment. “Do you recognize this this language?”

“Looks like Murtuan, but… off.” He paused for a moment. “Could be from Spherus Magna.”

“Now why would Kohu have a Spherus Magnan manuscript? Can you read it?”

“Um…” Takuma took the document and read through it a few times. “Barely. It’s structured like a poem. Something about a child… four winds… This part early on mentions giants and beasts, but I can’t make any sense of this thing.” He gave it one last glance. “Oh, and it says something about a cold light. Again, not much sense from what I can read.”

Vaa looked disappointed. “I was hoping for something more than foreign poetry. Well, I guess if we can’t find anything…”

“Then you’re just going to have to leave?” Kohu’s voice sounded. Takuma looked up to see the Turaga standing at the entrance to his office, arms crossed. “Pray tell, what were you two looking for? It must have been very important if you were willing to go through my belongings without my consent.”

“Kohu,” Takuma stammered. “We didn’t… um… see you there.”

“I am sure you didn’t,” the Turaga replied. “I’ll say it again – what were you looking for?”

“Proof,” Vaa answered. “Proof that tied you in with that Skakdi that attacked me earlier. Either with him or his green friend.”

“Takuma, what insane anti-Kohu mission did she get you into? I have no contact with any Skakdi nor green being. I was in conference with Vīces and Llĕn after the five of you first came by here, but I haven’t spoken with anyone else since. Why would you think I’m tied in with a Skakdi?”

“The one that attacked us knew that we were the Toa Liiri,” Takuma said. “We figured that since we didn’t tell anyone else about the name…”

Kohu grimaced. “You thought I had leaked some information out about your existence.” His expression showed almost great anger with himself. “You thought right, but I never told any Skakdi nor green being about you.”

“Then who’d you tell?” Vaa snapped.

“Vīces.”
______________________________________________________________

“Vīces,” the giant spat. He stood in the office of the Industry Region’s governor, two Cealians holding him at gunpoint. The Turaga of Earth sat in his chair, arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on his face. “What do you want from me, and why did you send this oh-so-lovely greeting party for me?”

Gravemos looked down at the handcuffs that wrapped uncomfortably tightly around his wrists. He was amazed that Vīces somehow managed to have cuffs this large handy. Gravemos was, after all, well over ten feet. Over two ten feet, comprised of dark grey skin that felt like leather, and dressed in black clothing – that was how one would describe the former resident of Jattillus. After a cataclysm had struck his homeworld, he and the rest of the Jattillan people were forced to become nomadic, travelling from planet to planet. Gravemos was a unique case in that he actually decided to settle in one place.

A born entrepreneur, he was easily able to establish his own business selling weapons in the Industry City. Apparently, the universe outside of Murtua was intriguing to Utearans, and Gravemos quickly took advantage of that by making voyages to Spherus Magna and Elucca from time to time, “borrowing” weapons, artifacts, and anything else that, as he heard a Matoran once say, “looked cool”.

Vīces took a moment before answering. The giant figured that the Turaga had something going on that he did not truly wish for Gravemos to know. “You have been deemed a… threat to the Utearan people.”

“Have I? And just what have I done?”

“I hear talk that your little trips to Spherus Magna are for more than weapons for sale. I’ve heard you have some… plans that you wish to enact.”

Gravemos took a step forward, two steps for the Cealian guards. His yellow-green eyes glowed with anger and suspicion. “That’s a crock!” he shouted. The two guards cocked their guns, ready to fire at the giant. More calmly, he added, “You and I both know that, Vīces. My plan here is to make money and to live peacefully. I went through the void seeing, feeling Jattillus get ripped out of orbit. Now you accuse me of some sort of treason against my new home? Come on, that couldn’t stand anywhere.”

“I could easily make it,” Vīces growled, a dangerous tone of warning hidden between his words. “An aggressive alien versus the Turaga governor of the Industry Region – who do you think holds more influence in any trial?”

“‘Turaga’ being synonymous for ‘corrupt’, right?” He paused. “Someone wants me gone. You couldn’t give less of a care about what I did before, and now you do. Who?”

“No one who knows you personally.” He nodded at the two Cealians. “Though, I suppose you could call him the new owner of this city.” The Turaga’s expression shifted into a grim smile. “This city was bought and sold a hundred years ago. I’m just a façade.”

“Are you? Well, I can’t say I approve.” Gravemos glanced at the two gunmen. An instant later, they crashed toward each other, the impact knocking the two unconscious. “And I don’t think Kohu would, either. What would he say if he found out? Or would he be too angry to say anything, and would do the first thing I suggest – impeachment and imprisonment?”

The Jattillan’s shackles shattered a second later. Vīces rose to his feet, but was powerless to stop the giant from rocketing upwards, punching a hole through the roof of his office. The Turaga let out a string of swears, but Gravemos was already heading north, to the Central City.
______________________________________________________________

Brutality picked up the dazed Iro by the neck and examined him warily. The Toa of Iron had been left disoriented after impacting with the rock face of the cliffs. The Face of Death could very well end his life then and there. Its’ scythe could easily take off his head, or if it wished a cleaner method, it could snap his neck with no trouble; it was only made of bone, after all. Perhaps an incineration would work as well.

It could have done that and more. It would not. Brutality had said that it was as its’ name suggested. It would be brutal, but it would also be put to shame if were a liar. It brought its’ left arm back and then slammed Iro’s body into the cliff face. The Toa let out a cry of shock and pain, and then looked around, a bit panicked. To his surprise, his captive had not let go. The look in the Face of Death’s orange eyes implied that it did not intend to. Surely enough, it slammed Iro into the rocky cliff once again… twice… thrice.

When it was finished, it hurled the Toa of Iron about half a bio into the air straight above it. Brutality fired a long beam of heat vision at Iro, sending him flying about another bio upward. The titanic entity merely watched as the young warrior crashed into the ground, landing awkwardly on his right elbow. A loud yell of pain suggested that he had possibly broke it.

It was not Brutality’s position to care. It was its’ position to teach this Toa that mercy could be sacrificed to preserve one’s life. It knew that Iro had his limits, and he would kill one before he himself was to be killed. Before then, the Face of Death contented itself by walking over to the Toa and stomping on his back, the small spikes on the bottom of its’ metallic boot sinking into his skin. It flipped Iro over and tore away his mask, revealing a face contorted with agony behind it.

The Face of Death then grabbed both of his arms and snapped them both at the elbow. It grabbed Iro and hurled him at the cliff face as if he were no more than a toy. His cries were loud enough to be heard for miles, it would seem.

“Please…” Iro begged, “stop. I… I give up.”

Brutality said nothing. It propped the Toa of Iron up on his feet, and landed a vicious kick on his left leg, shattering his kneecap. Still screaming in anguish, he slumped over.

It’s not going to give up, Iro realized. It’s going to keep on until I’m dead… or it’ll just never stop…

He was in no position to fight back. The titan had made sure of that. The pain searing through him left him no mindset to use his powers. If he could have a few second to gather his thoughts, perhaps he could land a fatal strike on this demented giant. Unfortunately, he doubted that Brutality would even give him that.

Should’ve killed him when he asked to be killed, the Toa thought bitterly, eying his opponent. I’d be onto Fear by now. I wouldn’t be in this pain…

“All are true statements,” Brutality rumbled. “Yet, you must realize that life seldom allows for second chances. Tell me, what am I if not a mere part of life?”

If he could, Iro would have replied. He mustered up something of a whimper, sounding like an animal to be put down. The Face of Death kneeled down and tugged on his right arm, causing him to bear his teeth and attempt to keep his scream to himself. The giant nodded, then clenched its’ left hand into a fist and sent it crashing into his midsection. It then grabbed his head and slammed it onto the rock. Still, Iro resisted the urge to scream. He would try his best to disallow Brutality that satisfaction.

A flame formed in the palm of its’ hand. It looked from the fire to Iro, its’ eyes meeting the Toa’s. Slowly, it extended its’ arm, intending to burn off the skin of his face. That was Iro’s limit. He did not have to think, but he knew what he needed to be done. He shut his eyes, the heat from the flames creeping towards his skin. Then, he felt it no more. He opened his eyes to see the form of Brutality, slumped over, with an iron spike piercing though its’ body.

A moment later, the Face of Death exploded in a brilliant white light, much like Arrogance. The light bathed Iro in itself, healing his wounds once again. He let out a raspy exhale and spat up some blood. Over – it was over.

Thank Deccius, he thought. I’m done. With Brutality and almost with these tests… Almost… And really, what could Fear do that’s worse than what I’ve gone through with Arrogance and Brutality, with Auqrāt and Rras? A cold wind blew past his face as he retrieved his Kanohi Eniden. Then again, I’d rather not know…

CHAPTER X

Methenor walked quietly towards the exit to the Kehtyva fortress, cloaking the chamber in which he was located with silence. His mind reflected on his wager with Vraal. He did not intend to regress into his old form, his form of flesh and bone. The only way to avoid that was Vraal’s defeat at the hands of his clone. The hunched Makuta chuckled darkly to himself. He glanced back to make sure he was not being followed. When he was sure, he departed from the stronghold. Using his levitation power, he floated upwards, and with an exercise of his telekinetic abilities, he began to fly towards Uteara. It was time that Vraal faced his vezon once again.
______________________________________________________________

Reizac and Juthron watched their quarry from the rooftop of a small factory. Promethius and Venom had initially begun heading north, in the direction of the Great Barren. However, after about five minutes, they broke west and then south. The Toa of Sand had theorized that the two villains would try to return to the neighborhood in which they attacked Vaa, but was proven wrong, as they simply continued south. At this point, they were almost into the Industry Region.

“Where do ya’ think they’re goin’?” Juthron asked, a light panting in his voice.

Reizac gave a shrug. “Who knows? What’s in the Industry Region that’s so important?”

He realized the question was not the most intelligent to be asked. Weapons were manufactured in the Industry Region, along with vehicles and other devices. If the two antagonists were up for another attack on the Toa Liiri, they would likely want to be able to take out their enemies for good.

Unfortunately, being the rookie Toa that he was, Juthron was beginning to exhaust. He had been using his elemental control over gravity to allow the two Toa to move along the rooftops of buildings in their pursuit, but he had his limits, and he would soon reach them. Already, he felt weak and lightheaded. His hesitance to continue was starting to become obvious.

“You okay?” Reizac inquired. “You don’t really look it….”

“I’m getting’ kinda’ tired…” the Toa of Gravity replied. “I’m not too good with these powers yet…. Maybe I can still try and chase ‘em. You stay here….”

The Toa of Sand sighed. “I don’t think so. You might pass out in midair and get hurt. Or you might actually catch up, but they’d rip you apart. C’mon, let’s head back home. We’ll just tell Tak that we lost them.”

Juthron gave a smile, a bit of thankfulness in the expression. He nodded slightly and exhaled deeply. “Coulda’ used the rocket boots, but I don’t think I could take ‘em both.”

“Let’s head back to the neighborhood,” Reizac replied. “Tak’s not going to get mad or anything; you know he’s not like that.”

Before anything further could be said, the two novice Toa found themselves floating upwards. Reizac shot a glance at Juthron, but the Toa of Gravity simply gave a shrug, indicating that he had nothing to do with the suspected erasure of gravity. The Toa of Sand then saw the possible reason for it – a gigantic figure, roughly ten feet tall, floating in the air about a yard above the two.

“Toa,” he began, “good to see I managed to get your attention.” He crossed his arms. “I’m Gravemos, a citizen of the Industry City. I need to speak with Kohu. I’m guessing you guys can get me into the Capitol Tower?”

“Maybe,” Reizac said, cutting off Juthron, who had opened his mouth to speak. Suspicion glowed in his eyes. “What about?”

Gravemos grimaced awkwardly. “Stick around. I figure you would need to know sooner or later. I’d rather not say anything out in the open.”

“All right. We’ll take you to Kohu’s office. We just need to bring someone with us before we do; I’m sure he’d like to hear, too, if it’s so important.”

The giant nodded. “Better hurry. We’ve got a time limit, and I’m sure Vīces has someone after me already.” Seeing the expressions on the faces of the two Toa, he added, “Long story. You’ll get to hear it soon enough.” Gravemos deactivated his power, allowing the three to drop on the rooftop. He chuckled as he saw the Toa hop off the building. “Sure, why fly when you can walk?”
______________________________________________________________

Vīces frowned at the two large figures in front of him. The three had met as per the governor’s request soon after Gravemos escaped the Industry City. The being to his left was Promethius, highest on the Industry City’s Most Wanted list, leader of the Piraka, and had been sentenced to death on his native Resvan, forcing him to flee to Uteara. The other to his right was Venom, a former exile from Murtua, and the Great Being Yzaa’s first living creation. Individually, each would be bad enough, but together, the two instilled fear in the corrupt Turaga like nothing else.

“I need you back in the Central City,” he said warily. “Someone who might provide opposition to your master could alert Kohu of what my role in this is.” He paused, expecting some sort of reaction from the two. “Your operation may be put in jeopardy.” Neither said anything. “Is that not a concern for you? For your leader?”

“Did you… allow this being to escape?” Venom asked acidly. “Be it by your personal foolishness or by that of those who work for you?”

“Well, I was about to have him executed when I mentioned that Ulreq purchased this city one hundred years ago.” Vīces looked around nervously. “I didn’t know that I was dealing with a being that had psionic abilities. I couldn’t have,” he stammered. “There’s still time to catch him!”

“Do you stay in your office for the majority of your week, Turaga?” Venom asked.

“Yes…” the Turaga of Earth replied cautiously. “Why?”

Promethius smiled and brandished a knife. In one quick motion, he slit Vīces’ throat, and the elder’s body slumped to the ground, a trickle of blood coming from his neck. “So we can be sure that you won’t be missed, ya’ little prіck.”

“Toss him in the ocean,” Venom hissed. “I’ll handle the escapee.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” the Sansta replied. “We should just head to Kehtyva and tell Ulreq. Plainly and simply: Vīces was an old fool, and we took care of him. He’ll send in the Makuta to take the Central City, and then they’ll execute Kohu. Easy.”

“You had better hope so,” the serpentine creature growled. “Otherwise, it’ll be your head.”

Promethius shook his head as he watched Venom stomp off to the east. “Why couldn’t it be his head?” he muttered. “I’m too good-looking to be decapitated.”
______________________________________________________________

“…and that’s basically what happened up until now,” Heithrix finished. The Toa of Magnetism was standing in the doorway of Xinlo’s dwelling, his back to the veteran warrior. The former Toa Artæva was sitting at a table, cradling his aching head. “We need help. You think you’re up for this?”

Xinlo frowned. He had hoped that Uteara would be a haven from all that ugliness he attempted to escape back on Deax Nui. Fate, it seemed, had other plans. “I could help,” he began. “But….” He stared downward. “I’m not sure how up for getting beat up I am. I wanted a simple life, and I’ve done my fair share of heroics back in the day.” He paused. “Though I don’t seem to get credit for them,” he muttered to himself. “Why should I want to go through whatever hеӏӏ this could put me through?”

Heithrix turned around. “I get that this isn’t your native land. I do. I get that you don’t… don’t have the same devotion to Uteara as you would to Deax, and that’s fine…. But do you really have the right to allow people to suffer?” The Toa of Sonics said nothing in reply, somehow sparking a bit of anger in the rookie hero. “Do you? Something’s happening, Xinlo, and it’s going to happen soon. If history teaches anything, it’s that evil never sleeps, and that the prepared live to see another day.”

“Is that overgeneralization something you took from your little books, librarian? If this… whatever’s as inevitable as you make it out to be, then it doesn’t seem like preparedness would make much of a difference….”

“You’re kidding. Were you like that as a rookie? I can’t see how you’d have done anything, how you could’ve been a hero, if you acted like that.”

“Times change you, kid. If they don’t, then they kill you. Being a Toa’s not as glamorous and glorious as people would make it out to be. You think it’s a good idea at first; you think it’s all about the fame and the heroics, but you soon find out that there are some seriously messed up people out there. They’re sadists, the whole lot of them. They only want to cause pain, misery, chaos, and death. And when you meet them, your perspective on things changes. But the real evil of those beings – beings like Volskith, the being that showed me the world for what it was – is not that they’re willing to kill, torture, and all those things; anyone can be made to do that. The real evil is the indifference they show. ‘Oh, it’s just another life lost. It’s just another one gone; who cares?’ That’s scary. You begin to question things, question yourself. It all goes downhill from there. I may not be your local hero, but I’ve been on the same path as the surviving Ryhmä. I’ll tell you this, kid – it hurts to look back.” The Toa sighed and stared down at his mask, a blue cone-shaped object with long vertical slits running down its face. “But you’re right. Like it or not, I’m still a Toa. I still have this title, and I’m aware of our unwritten code. I’ll help you out. It may be the death of me, but I’ll do it.”

Heithrix smiled, his expression filled with respect and a bit of awe. He extended his arm towards Xinlo, who shook it firmly.

“We’d better meet up with your friends. And get on the move. It’s best not to stay in one place any longer.”
______________________________________________________________

Iro gazed at the reflection of his face on his mask. It was distorted by the shape of the headgear, but he still recognized himself. He somehow expected to look different – older, smarter, tougher. He chuckled softly at his disappointment. His dark blue eyes matched the color of the late evening sky that would soon settle over the desert, while his long black hair flowed messily from his hair. He still looked relatively young, as he should have, and it seemed that the Faces of Death would leave no scars from their tests for him to show off later.

If there’s a later, he reminded himself. Brutality almost got me, and Fear’s probably not going to give me a second to manage to attack.

He was beginning to grow impatient. He estimated that at least an hour had passed since he had finished his last test. Where had Fear gone? Was it ever coming? What reason would justify a Face of Death forcing him to wait for so long? Perhaps there was no Fear. Perhaps these beings did not want the Toa of Iron to leave this valley and would postpone the last test until the end of time. All these thoughts flew through his head in an instant. It took Iro the same amount of time to figure out what was happening.

It’s in my head, he realized. At least, it’s managed to get inside my mind, to mess with my thoughts.

The sky suddenly turned pitch black. The stars began to flicker out of existence, one by one, and the world outside the valley slowly began to fade away. In time, the rocky surface of the cliff faces and the sandy desert ground started to disappear, as well. Soon, there was nothing. Iro himself began to feel empty, vacant, as the blackness around him began to toss him about, as the violent storms of the seas would to be a small vessel. Sounds could be heard all around him, the chattering of the dead, the howling gales, and the whispers of evil. He could hear faint laughter, going on madly, as screams of pain echoed from both far away and directly against his head.

The darkness loomed out from all around him, both threatening to consume him and to expel him. He felt as if his body were being flipped upside-down and turned inside out. A blistering hot wind blew through him, taking days, it seemed, to finally pass. It was followed by an incomprehensibly cold breeze that was gone as soon as its chill could even be sensed. Iro’s skin crawled, and a phantom itch soon appeared on every part of his body. He wanted to scratch his head, but knew that if he allowed himself to give in to his desire, he would not stop until the sensation was gone. In the midst of the entirety of the madness, a single word could be heard, repeated over and over again, just barely audible: Ţath…. Ţath…. Ţath….

Iro gasped, as if he had just taken his first breath of air after being underwater for eons. He heard nothing, which was a relief, but he also saw nothing. The darkness was still all around him. However, the maddening effects of what he presumed to be the herald of Fear’s entrance had ceased to affect him. He sighed raggedly, a hollow sound. He had no idea if he were standing up or sprawled out on the “ground.” He tried to pick himself up, assuming the case of the latter, but found that he could not feel anything. He willed his right arm forward, but could not see, hear, or feel the movement.

Terror flew through his mind as the thought of his nonexistence came to him. Did the character of Iro exist? Was everything in his mind, a preoccupation he had created in this void? Was he just a spirit floating in the blackness for all of eternity? For that matter, was he even a spirit? What if he were less than that? What if he were just an afterthought of some being’s dream? Did he truly exist? Were there ever “Faces of Death?” Did concepts such as poison, arrogance, anger, brutality, and fear exist, or were they simply ideas that were in his “mind?” What if he created them?

The questions kept coming to him, the next being formed too quickly for the Toa of Iron even to begin analyzing the previous. Before long, he could only muster up one response to the mental assault – a blood-curling scream that shook the foundations of the darkness. He felt the impact of his body hitting the ground of the Valley of Death. A dark figure stood over him, and kneeled down, blurring his vision so that its features could not be seen. The next thing Iro knew, he was knocked unconscious, succumbing to the darkness once again.

CHAPTER XI

“Awaken. Awaken, warrior. I have only so much patience, and a day only has so many hours….”

Iro’s eyes snapped open and he started, glancing around in a panicked manner. The darkness was still all around him, though it seemed a bit more welcoming than before. He rose to his feet and attempted to grab his weapons. To his shock, his hands merely phased through the axe and shield. Someone did not wish for him to fight, evidently. The Toa grimaced, realizing who that someone might be.

“Fear…” he spat. “Or is it ‘Ţath,’ as I’d heard?”

“You may call me what sounds best to you,”[/i] the voice echoed from the black void. [i]“You have done no small task, defeating my four brothers. I cannot say that your path is to end here, in this prison of darkness, though I am able to state that no being that dares to consent to my challenge has survived.”

“Well, you don’t seem to want me to be able to survive. It’s you that’s doing that to my weapons, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is I. This is no battle, Toa. I merely wish for you to face a single trivial test. Do you agree to take part in my little challenge?”

“Yes,” Iro replied, cold and hard. “I do. Let’s get started.”

“Very well,” was the hissed response, sounding as soft as a light breeze, flowing like sand through one’s fingers. The darkness in front of the Toa twisted and contorted itself into a humanoid shape, around the same height as Iro, changing from pitch black to a still-extremely dark blue. The bone structure and eyes of the being glowed in a ghastly faint blue-green light. Its lips appeared to be stitched together, though its haunting voice still managed to say, “Let us commence….”

Fear’s ghost-like form floated around the Toa of Iron, its crystalline eyes staring him down, dissecting him. It attempted to move towards him, but the warrior took a step back, glaring at the Face of Death, goading it to attack. It did not. If anything, it appeared to be observing its quarry, analyzing Iro as though it wore-

An Eniden, the Toa thought. If only I could use mine. Maybe I could get some sort of leverage on this thing….

A slight chuckle came from the Face of Death, both tranquil and menacing at the same time. Iro realized that the evident lack of any test was probably a part of its game. It was Fear, after all. Suspicion and paranoia were a part of its essence. He would just have to wait it out.

At long last, it spoke. “Tell me, young one…” it murmured, its voice echoed by hundreds of inaudible whispers, “what do you… dread?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” Iro shot back. “If you are what you say you are, then you should be able to figure that.”

“Are you replying in that manner because you would rather avoid admitting to yourself that you have fear? Do you find shame in having an emotion upon which this planet was built? Do you think those that you idolized felt no terror, saw no horrors? Tell me… what do you dread?”

“I don’t have time to be afraid of anything. I’ve stared into the eyes of Poison, Arrogance, Anger, and Brutality, and I’ve defeated them all. Do you think that you’re going to scare me? After what Arrogance and Brutality did? You’re only fooling yourself if you do.”

“You are a coward regardless, then. The truly brave are not those that do not fear anything, but instead, they are those willing to face their fears. If you believe you do not fear anything, then you are the fool. The words came from your own mouth, your own mind – I am able to find what you fear. We Faces of Death, as you have realized, are telepathic, though with our power, the minds of beings such as you are as difficult to enter as a room with a defective lock placed on an open door.”

“Well, then try me. What do you think I would be afraid of?”

“Well, I suppose since you have asked me so nicely, I shall comply. Let us see… Iro is a Toa, one whose insecurities are as transparent as the sun. He is a seeker, one who must be sure that others approve of him, of his actions. He is kept in tow by a rather long leash, one so much so that he believes himself to be free of authority. One of the things that he seeks is attention. If he were to singlehandedly destroy the great evil that defeated the Toa Cevil, he must surely be seen as a hero. He retorts at anyone who attempts to give him some form of direction in his life, scoffing at elders and the wise youth alike. One must wonder, ‘What does this character fear? He appears to be too imprudent, too naïve, even to have a sense of that feeling.’ I shall prove that one wrong, Toa. I know what Iro fears. It is a surprisingly rational fear, one many of his kind ignore. As a novice, however, he has developed it relatively quickly.”

“Get on with it!” the Toa of Iron spat impatiently. “Come on…”

“What must Iro fear?” the Face of Death replied absently, its voice echoing within the warrior’s head. “What causes his flesh to crawl? I say that it is a simple thing, a word very commonly used. I say that Iro fears control. Rather, he fears a lack of it. No, he is not a pretentious child who wishes to run the world; he only wishes to reign over what he is meant to – his elemental power. Yes, I know that Iro fears the thought of somehow losing his – or losing control of his – elemental power of iron. What should he do in either scenario? He would be left weak and powerless to stop whatever evil dared to disrupt his natural being. Here is a disturbing thought for him to ponder on: What should happen if his power were to be used against him, in such a way that his own existence would destroy him?” Fear’s eyes met the Toa’s. Its next words were as chilling as the winds of the coldest part of the tundra. “That is what is to be realized.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

“You fear the loss of control… so shall one be created. No more shall you retain power over all things metal…. In fact, I never had the ability to use one of the elements. Yes, I maintain some minimal command of the darkness, but only to an extent, as had been agreed. I think that this power should not be wasted… but transferred.”

Fear took two quick strides forward and grabbed Iro by the shoulders, its long curved claws piercing his armor with minimal effort. Instantly, the Toa felt weak and dizzy. When the Face of Death let go, it let out a cry of triumph as power surged through it. It viciously backhanded its opponent, sending him sprawling into the darkness. Its frame, once glowing dimly, now mirrored the brightness of a star.

“What power…” it murmured, almost astounded. “With my status, I need no exercise, no training to use this element. I am able to control everything that has even a single trace of iron in its composition.” It closed its eyes for a moment. When it opened them, a large metal statue of itself formed, and then shattered an instant later. “Incredible…”

Its attention shifted to the downed Iro. Power was costly, Fear knew. It would do what it was meant to, and then it would abandon its newfound abilities. Focusing on the Toa of Iron, it narrowed its eyes and began to picture the desired effects of its power. It would be a matter of waiting now, waiting for its opponent’s single cry for mercy.

For his part, Iro was worrying more about when the Face of Death’s attack was coming than what it was. He supposed that it would be excruciating, something like Arrogance’s assault, though the agony increased tenfold. He was sure he could grin and bear through physical pain. Having to wait for it, however, was a bigger torture.

A few minutes had passed by when the Toa of Iron felt the strange sensation. It felt as if the entirety of his body, minus his head, were being pricked by tiny needles. Moments later, the miniscule irritable punctures transitioned into the feeling of small blades sinking into his skin.

“What in the world are you doing?” he cried at Fear, panic starting to set in.

“You did not seem very enthusiastic when I stripped you of your power, the single thing that separated you from your Matoran self. I felt the need to create a… larger reaction, I suppose. I must say, your armorsuit was formidable against my four brothers; it saved you a great deal of anguish. Now, it has been turned against you. The interior of your suit has been modified so that little spikes coat every inch of it. Oh, yes, and they continue to grow. It is not until one of them contacts your bone structure that they shall retract, and your test will have been passed.”

“That’ll kill me, you psychopath! Can’t I do anything else?”

“I have made my decision. There is no other option. Survive the greatest agony you will have known, and you will have passed.” Its next words burned through Iro’s hope like acid. “Although… I believe we both know how the outcome of this game will play out.”

The Toa’s face contorted in suffering as the spikes plunged past his skin, into his tissue, nerves, and muscles. They did not move quickly enough to spare him a second of agony and terror. With his power gone, all he could do was wait until Fear’s devilish nightmare of a test was over. Of course, it was only a matter of time before one of the spikes dug into something vital, such as his heart or lungs. The pain was excruciating, inconceivable. He felt his skin being punctured, his once firm and strong stature being reduced to a quivering heap that crumpled like a sheet of paper to be thrown away. He could not think properly over the sound of his own wailing.

Most beings do not experience true panic. Yes, the sensation of fright was one thing to be felt. However, it was the hopelessness, clear and unpolluted hopelessness, which set Iro aside from others. His heart raced, pumping blood through the porous structure that was his veins like, working as fast as an engine. The spikes were distributed in such a way that his focus kept shifting from the pain in his chest to his legs to his neck, and so on. He fell to his knees, no longer aware of his surroundings or of Fear’s presence. It was so tempting, to give in. The darkness once again threatened to consume him. However, it was friendlier this time. Its chill embrace reached out to him, welcoming him. It was time… time to move on, to move on to a place of no evils, of no anguish, of nothing. He would no longer be a warrior that would have to deal with others’ judgments and expectations. It was time.

Yet, a still small voice in the back of the Toa’s head continued to tug him away from the blackness. He was still young, the rest of his life in front of him. Why had he travelled to the Great Barren? He wanted to find the Toa Cevil, to earn his position as a hero. Furthermore, he had passed four other tests, each chiseling away at his childishness, molding him into a new character. What right was his simply to succumb to the grip of death? Life was not fair, but it was something he would have to face on his own. No, he refused to die now. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifted his head to look at Fear. The Face of Death’s eyes glowed in what could be described as astonishment. He put one of his feet on the ground, haltingly picking himself up. After what felt like eons, he stood up. He stared into Fear’s orbs, his own delving into them.

In a raspy voice, a poignant voice, he said at last, “Pass…”

His body fell to the unseen ground. Alone in the darkness, alone in his life, he had passed. For the Faces of Death, his display was satisfactory. Fear nodded. “Die another day, warrior,” it whispered, even as a single spike hit the warrior’s sternum.
______________________________________________________________

Iro started. The first thing that he noticed was the temperature. No longer did he feel the freezing chill of the darkness in which he had just been. Instead, it was the dry and stifling heat of the desert. Once again, he was in the Great Barren. Perhaps he had never left, he considered. It was only to be thought of for a moment; he rose to his feet, numb to the spikes that had once been tearing through his flesh. Before him were the five Faces of Death, Poison standing leftmost, and Fear rightmost.

“So what do you have to say to me?” the Toa asked. There was no bitterness in his voice, just fatigue. “Or is there anything to say?”

“Well, if there were not, then we would not be here, would we?” Arrogance snapped, taking a step forward only to be halted by Anger’s hook weapon.

“You could stand to learn something,” the skeletal being murmured. “For now, I believe you should merely be silent, Auqrāt.”

“Custais is correct,” Poison added. “As the first of us, the speaking shall be commenced by myself.” The avian entity looked over at Iro, a casual expression of surprise on its face. “It has occurred as we were informed. One child to be overlooked has gone through his trial of iron without a glance back to the shadow that he once was. Stronger in will as he has become in heart and in mind, he has defeated his five evils.”

“Following this defeat, the Faces of Death surrender their role in their prison,” Fear continued, its voice no longer an echo in darkness. “Meaning, no longer must others that traverse through this pass combat the five of us. However, we suggested to those that did that another path was to be taken. Only one other has fought and defeated the Faces of Death.”

“Who?” Iro asked, intrigued. Considering how he had just slipped past death, any other being capable of beating the five was a force to be reckoned with.

“You will know in due time,” Brutality responded. “You will learn what we wish for you to learn here, and then time shall provide you with the rest of the answers you wish to find.”

“Ask what you care to,” Anger said. “For now, you need not be hasty.”

“Where did you come from?” Iro asked. “What… what made you?”

A soft chuckle came from the five before Poison spoke, “We are ancient forces, the driving will of evil. Once, however, in a past in which Solis Magna was but an infant… we were much simpler. From necessity and desperation, we become the Faces of Death.”

“You weren’t always like this? What were you before?”

Anger shook its head. “That question has an answer, and you are meant to know it, but there is a specific time for that.”

“So what was the purpose of this test? Why me? Why did I have to go through this?”

“Do you believe your old self, who had not defeated the Faces of Death, capable of battling a being that had?” Brutality asked. “You would have found yourself on the losing end to my test.”

“What am I supposed to do now? Just wait for this guy to make himself known?”

“Oh, he is known in whispers,” Arrogance replied, “whispers of the past of Murtua. He will not reveal his identity to you, and you shall only learn of it when you face him. However, you will gradually become more… aware of him… and he of you. He could not detect your presence in this valley – we did not allow it – but as soon as you depart, he will send his darkness after you… the same darkness sent after the Toa Cevil, the same that now threatens the people closest to you.”

“As for what you are meant to do, we have an ally prepared to meet with you,” Fear continued, “and he will inform you of one part of the events that you have missed. Others shall make you aware of the rest.”

“You are to face much as a youth,” Poison shrilled. “For now, we view the information that we have given to you to be adequate for your new quest to progress. No longer must you be in the shadow of the Valley of Death. Go now, and face that which threatens to consume Uteara with darkness and devastation. Know that the Faces of Death watch over you, and that in your moment of greatest despondency, there is to be the smallest of lights to be found when everything is black.”

With all to be said having been said, the five Faces of Death faded from view. They left no trace of their being, not one sign that they had ever even existed. Iro felt none of the damage dealt to his body by Arrogance, Brutality, and Fear. At least, not physically; mentally, he knew what he had gone through, and he knew that he had emerged bettered for it. A certain veteran feeling had settled inside of him. He had been a Toa for only about one hundred years, and yet he had been molded into the experienced, humbled, and somber hero that mirrored the Toa Ryhmä.

“Hey!” a faraway voice called out. The Toa of Iron glanced upward to see a Turaga dressed in navy looking down at him from the top of the cliffs. “Are you all right? I heard screaming coming from this direction.”

“Yeah!” Iro shouted back. “I’m good. I was just… saying some good-byes.”

“Well, get up here, Toa!” the Turaga said. “An old man needs a warrior’s help!”

Iro smiled to himself, then willed a pillar of iron to rise from the ground under his feet. After a few moments, he hopped off, landing next to the elder. To his surprise, the short hunched being was wearing dark green armor and did not appear to be very old at all. “What do you need?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you know about what’s happened, not much, I imagine. Toa Cevil Netruhl and Inquer have been kidnapped, and I’m going to find them. I think I can find out who has them, but I can’t get them back by myself.”

“Yeah, I’ll help you. I was thinking about doing that this morning, but I… got sidetracked. What’s your name, Turaga?”

“You wouldn’t believe me. I was Toa Ujama not too long ago… but by dark forces, I was forced into this body.”

“Ujama?” Iro repeated. “It’s me, Iro. Do you remember me?”

“Weren’t you the kid who got himself transformed after I sent you to see what happened to the Makuta?” Ujama looked at the Toa of Iron up and down. “You look a lot older now. That wasn’t too long ago… only fifty years, right?”

“Yes, sir. I grew up fast.”

The Turaga of the Green gave a smile, a bit of pride behind it. “Good to hear. You were pretty whiny and immature last time we talked. ‘I want to control gold and silver, Ujama! I want to do this; I want to do that.’ I don’t think I could bear with that, all things considered.”

“Gold and silver thing might’ve been useful,” Iro shot back, “all things considered.”

“Well, let’s get going, kid. Or does the new-and-improved Iro not like being called that anymore?”

“As long as I can call you ‘old man,’ I won’t mind so much.”

“I don’t think so, brother. Not in this lifetime.” The Turaga extended his arm, which Iro shook. “Now, let’s get going. We have some old heroes to save.”

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