Evils Unbound

"We will leave this rock tomorrow. For greater and better things. We will fight for the glory, the justice, and the dominance of our new reign. We will make this rocky land the heart of the conquering force of the universe! And when our campaign is finally done, all shall bow and submit before the might of the new, Xevthian Empire!"

- Alxor to his troops

Evils Unbound is a story serial written by and. Detailing the first confrontation between the tyrannical Xevthian leader Alxor and the Mersion scientist Mersery, the story takes place during the occupation of Versuva by the Xevthian Empire and much of the Matoran Universe. The series coexists within the storylines of both Chicken Bond and Toa Hydros.

Prologue
100,000+ years ago...

Shadows clung to the walls of a grandiose room. Outside, the orange sun had begun it descent behind the crispy, black clouds, allowing the remaining beams of light still shining to decorate the chamber in a beautiful bath of orange and yellow color.

The light bounced across the surface of grand pillars that stretched neatly throughout the chamber, designed to be perfectly parallel with the pillar on the opposite end of the chamber.

In between the two rows of pillars, at the end of this room, was a large, ornate throne. To scale, the throne was massive, and could easily conceal any being sitting on it behind a thick blanket of shadow. And sitting on that throne, right now, was a muscular, armored titan, whilst a pair of unblinking crimson-red eyes stared at the opposite end of the chamber.

The titan thought to himself. ''Where am I going to start? ''

It had not been long since he had been instated as the High-King of the Xevthian race, perhaps over a year or two, but already the products of his efforts and labors had began to produce a stronger, better society. He had ”convinced” several of the greatest scientists from other lands to come to his homeland to aid in the work, and already, their culture had dramatically advanced. For years, the Xevthian people had toiled to survive in the hardships of the dangerous environment of the island, and now they had that chance.

But the High-King knew this would not be enough. Once, long ago, he had a small view of the world. His world had only been the island he lived on, and its furthest reaches the horizon line; but now….

Now he saw a different world. He now saw a world with thousands of islands, each with their own cultures and natives who governed them. And so, in one great decision, High-King Alxor, supreme commander of the Xevthian military and governor of the peoples of this island, had decided to undertake… a policy of dramatic expansion in the Xevthian’s reaches on the world. His people were now going to establish themselves as a great power in the history tablets soon to come, and Alxor could only hope he’d still be around to oversee the scribe’s opinion of him.

His new stratagem had been approved of by his closest advisors and allies, but he knew he needed to stand on firm ground if it was going to succeed. The other citizens of the universe would surely retaliate. But Alxor knew the weaknesses of these races. Since before even his short reign, the other forces of the universe had been untamed and wild, lacking discipline and leadership and unity. He had seen the scum of the criminal underworlds: murderers, mercenaries, thieves, assassins, bounty hunters, would-be conquerors, exiles and more.

On his island, under his regime, you would have to search extremely hard for a single thief. He was a bringer of peace, order and justice…. So why not extend his generosity to the rest of the universe? Why not give them the discipline and leadership they want – No – need in this time of chaos?

Abruptly, the doors of Alxor’s throne room burst open, and in walked another of his kind. A commoner under his rule, no doubt.

“High-king, your legions have been assembled in the courtyard of the palace. They await your divine presence and leadership.”

Lifting himself from the shadows of his throne, and snatching his war lance from the stand situated right next to the chair, Alxor stood to his full height in his heavy armor, and eyed the member of his kind before him.

“Good,” he said in an almost rasping voice. “Let us depart. I will say one final thing to my forces before depart this land.”

“Yes, your highness,” replied the servant, and together, master and follower walked to the marble balcony of Alxor’s great palace. Pulling back a crimson curtain, Alxor stepped onto the balcony to observe the marvel before him.

Xevthians and Zarak alike, both races native to Alxor’s home, stood in his dusty courtyard; all martialled into neat and organized lines. The military of his people was now before him. From the great Xevthians to the humble Zarak whom served the island’s higher race as servants, Alxor deemed his new military ready. They were strong, battle-eager, and ready to die for his cause. For the glory of conquest. Of battle. Of the new reign yet to be imposed on the universe. Yes…. They were indeed ready for this great step forward. Alxor eyed down the army of warriors, the sound of faint volcanic eruptions, common to their homeland, echoing into his palace. Volcanic ash floated within the lights of the evening sun. The wind blew dust around the courtyard, though the air was chill and silent. The great army’s eyes were fixed upon the dictator. And finally, he spoke:

“Our time has come! For centuries, we have been bound to this wasteland, ignored by the rest of the universe. Forgot. Discarded. Ignored. But no more! The world out there is in pieces right now, and I see that as an opportunity to establish a new regime. To bring new justice to the disgusting crime-ridden filth of the lands beyond us. We shall fight them in their homes, because we know we are bringing them good. We will fight them in their cities, to prove that we have no boundaries. And will we conqueror their lands, as a sign that discipline was needed. Now, I ask you, my men….. will you fight for me?”

The crowd let up a mighty roar of a cheer, and war cries were catapulted into the air in joy and pride. Alxor smiled. Not long after, a chant began amongst the warrior crowd,

“We will fight! We will fight! We will fight!” they screamed back at Alxor merrily.

Alxor slammed his war lance’s pommel into the ground as a sign to be quiet, and almost instantly, almost in a rehearsed motion, the crowd was silent.

“Your spirit and enthusiasm is uplifting,” Alxor began. “And I will make sure it is not put to waste. We will leave this rock tomorrow. For greater and better things. We will fight for the glory, the justice, and the dominance of our new reign. We will make this rocky land the heart of the conquering force of the universe! And when our campaign is finally done, all shall bow and submit before the might of the new, Xevthian Empire!”

The crowd screamed back in joy, their cheers being the only sound one could hear. Alxor sighed happily. This is where he belonged. On the front lines with his troops, not in the dull, backstabbing political arena he had been forced to immerse himself in once his reign had began.

The Xevthian high-king walked towards the edge of his balcony, and raised his lance into the air in pride. The crowd’s jeers grew even louder as they quickly began a new war chant for their new fighting spirits:

“For victory! For conquest! For honor! For the glory of the Xevthian Empire!”

Chapter One
Mevock, six months later...

Skorr quickly made his way through the ruins of one of his peoples' outposts, his clawed feet gripping the loose soil firmly and allowing him to move with hardly a sound. He paused to look down at the ground every few moments in hopes of finding a discarded weapon or other items of value. Seeing what appeared to be a sword half-buried in the dusty earth, the Zeverek walked over and pulled it free, only to discover that the blade was broken in half.

Dropping the useless piece of scrap, Skorr moved on. Though "scavenging missions" like this were probably beneath one of his status within the Zeverek military, Skorr had welcomed the chance to get away from his fellow soldiers, though even he was beginning to question his decision to come here alone; much had changed on Mevock recently... and none of it had been for the better.

These new enemies aren't like the foes my brothers and I have fought against for so long, Skorr thought as he paused to look at the corpse of a fellow Zeverek. Judging from the rate of decomposition, the poor fool had been there for several weeks at least. Whoever they are they know what they want, and know how to get it.

Indeed, the Zeverek's newest foes weren't like the opponents they had been facing for several years. Fast, deadly and efficient, the invaders had come from the south like a shadowy plague, and had somehow managed to keep their fleet hidden until it was too late for either the Zeverek or their original foes to mount a suitable defense; those soldiers that had made it to the southern beaches had been overwhelmed almost instantly, felled like trees before a forest fire. The invaders, a flurry of white and crimson armored brutes, quickly spread over the land like a ravenous swarm of Nui-Kopen, occupying any settlements and outposts they came across, and destroying those that offered any significant resistance.

Now, the last few pockets of resistance had been forced to the northern-most reaches of Mevock. Worst of all (at least as far as the Zeverek leaders were concerned), the Zeverek and the race they had been warring against originally had been forced into an uneasy, and most likely temporary truce and alliance, though even their combined might had only managed to slow their enemy's march to complete conquest of the island.

The sound of a snapping twig roused Skorr from his reminiscing. Whirling around and drawing his blade in one smooth motion, the veteran Zeverek cast his keen eyes around his surroundings.

Nothing. Nothing but charred dwellings and the early morning mist.

Probably just some Rahi, Skorr reasoned to himself, though decided to begin the trip home all the same.

Turning to find the path he had used to get to the outpost, Skorr seemingly failed to notice a strong, white-armored form move out from its hiding spot behind a ruined building. The entity cleared a significant distance quickly before diving behind an old battle wagon, once again hidden from sight.

Gilvex took a moment to catch his breath. He had been trailing the Zeverek for the better part of an hour, trying to decide whether he was actually alone, or was setting up an ambush. From what Gilvex could determine, the Zeverek was alone, making him a prime target. Tightening his grip on his blade, Gilvex leaped out from behind the wagon, ready to...

...find absolutely nothing. Gilvex looked this way and that, trying to figure out where his quarry had disappeared to.

"Looking for me?"

At the sound of the gritty voice behind him, Gilvex whirled around in time to receive a backhand to the side of his face. Going with the blow, the Zarak rolled and sprang to his feet in a flash, looking up to see Skorr standing a short distance away, having evidentially managed to outflank him.

"Got to hand it to you, invader," Skorr said, his blade reflecting the morning's dull light. "I almost missed detecting your presence. Were it not for the twig you snapped, I might have been the one taken by surprise."

Ignoring what probably passed as flattery among Skorr's kind, Gilvex decided to get down to business. "Drop your weapon and surrender, Zeverek," he commanded with authority. "As of now, consider yourself a prisoner of the Xevthian Empire."

Skorr snorted in a combination of amusement and contempt. "Sorry, Zarak, but if you want me as a prisoner, you're going to have to work for it."

"Is that a fact?" came a new voice. Skorr turned to the right to see, not just one newcomer, but dozens, all of them reptilian warriors clad in either dark red or bright white armor and wielding various types of weaponry. At the head of the group was a particularly large Zarak male, his crimson eyes glowing with strength and menace. At his side was a smaller, but dangerous-looking female, each of her clawed hands firmly wrapped around a wickedly sharp sword.

"Well then..." the male said as he signaled for his men to surround their latest victim. "I suppose we had better get started."

The city of Keadrah, Versuva, several weeks later...

"Mersery!" yelled Herkain as she pounded on the door of her classmate's dwelling.

No response. Herkain sighed as she knocked on the young scholar's door again. They were both late for an important class at the Great Academy, and they couldn't afford to be late because of Mersery's oversleeping... again.

"Mersery!" she practically bellowed. "Wake up this instant! I'm not going to be the one to explain your absence. Not this time."

Yellow eyes opened to the ceiling of a darkened room, the eyes' owner grumbling slightly as he began to awaken from his much-needed sleep. The eyes blinked lazily as they attempted to focus, only to drift closed once more.

Sleep... Oh-so-beautiful sleep was mere moments away from being his once again...

'''BANG! BANG! BANG!'''

"Mersery!"

Mersery's eyes snapped open in a flash as the sound of his friend's voice blasted any chance of him falling back to sleep into a thousand tiny pieces. Leaning up, the young Mersion stayed in a sitting position on his bed for several moments, trying to reclaim his senses.

Another series of thudding sounds assaulted his ears. "Mersery?" came Herkain's voice. "You awake yet?"

"I'm up! Hold your Rahi!" Mersery barked back groggily. Like so many in the world, he simply was not a morning person... or, in his case, an evening person.

Reluctantly leaving the warmth and comfort of his bed, Mersery began the arduous journey to his front door. Before leaving the bedroom, Mersery scooped up his Kanohi Trezket from its spot on his desk and placed it over his face, allowing the mask to fill him with new energy before resuming his march toward the door.

Unfastening the lock, Mersery opened the front door to reveal a very displeased-looking Mersion standing in the glow of the late evening sun. After a moment of staring at one another, Mersery decided to speak first.

"Sooo...," he said casually, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye. "What's up?" Herkain snorted in annoyance. Gifted as the young scholar was, he simply didn't know how to take things seriously.

Perhaps this will wake him up, she said to herself.

"Nothing much," the female Mersion replied. "I just thought we could take a stroll through the park. Maybe get some breakfast, and there was something else I wanted to do. What was it? Oh! That's right. Maybe we could also attend the class we're already late for!"

As Herkain had predicted, that last statement seemed to knock whatever drowsiness Mersery still felt completely out of his system. The Mersion suddenly bolted back into his house, cursing every step of the way.

"Rahi bones!" he swore as he fumbled to secure his cloak around his neck. Though his Mersion physiology didn't really require the extra warmth the cloak provided, it still made him feel relaxed and comfortable.

Scooping up his research tablets as he went, Mersery vacated his home, secured the front door lock, and finally began the trip toward the academy, Herkain barely a step or two behind him.

"How could I forget?" Mersery asked as he walked at a hurried pace, more to himself than Herkain.

Herkain rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you didn't spend every moment of your down time studying, you'd actually get some rest."

"I'll have you know that I was not merely studying," Mersery replied defensively. "I was on the verge of making an important discovery concerning Energized Protodermis."

"And what happened instead?" his companion asked, already confident she knew the answer

Mersery allowed an embarrassed smile to appear on his masked features. "Well...," he started. "I still made a discovery of sorts: Even metal tools can be destined to transform into living creatures. And when they do, they tend to get very hungry very quickly."

They both shared a laugh as they hurried through the bustling streets of Keadrah, passing Matoran and fellow Mersions as they went. Though he had lived in Versuva's grandest city for most of his life, Mersery always felt a slight sense of awe whenever he walked through its streets. Casting his eyes about, the scholar took in the sights -- factories and smith shops that were far more efficient and environmentally-friendly than those of Xia, museums that housed the rarest of Rahi exhibits and artifacts, observatory towers equipped with telescopes easily twice as powerful as those found in Metru Nui's Ko-Metru; Keadrah had everything a curious mind could ever desire, and infinitely more.

Herkain turned to Mersery and smiled at his expression as he gazed that the city he had seen countless times, oblivious to her stare. True, he was a bit irresponsible at times, but if there was one thing about Mersery that could never be questioned, it was his curiosity of the world around him, and his passion for the pursuit of knowledge.

Perhaps that's why we're such good friends, she thought to herself. We have shared the same passion for all our lives.

She had barely formed the words in her mind before her features change to one of slight disappointment. Friends... she repeated to herself. Is that all we're meant to be?

She shook her head slightly, frustrated with herself for bring up those particular thoughts again. Now wasn't the time for such things; both Mersery and herself were only a short time away from graduating from the Great Academy, and once they did, they would be the youngest scholars to do so in the academy's history.

Needless to say, they were both under significant pressure. Too much pressure for me to get in the way with feelings that probably won't last.

"Herkain? Hello? Anyone home?"

The female Mersion was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of Mersery's voice. She turned to see her companion giving her a thoughtful stare.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

Herkain gave him a reassuring smile. "Yeah. I'm fine," she replied. "I guess I'm just... nervous about our upcoming graduation."

Though he didn't look entirely convinced, the male apparently decided not to press her. Instead, he returned her smile and said, "Me too. We've been attending the school for so long... yet it seems like it has all past us by within the blink of an eye."

The two looked up at their destination, which was now just a quarter mile ahead of them. The Great Academy was considered by many Versuvians to be one of the most important structures on the entire island. Grand and powerful in appearance, the academy possessed an air of timeless majesty, and was the single most illustrious school on Versuva; only the keenest and most determined minds were accepted, and even they could spend decades studying within its walls before finally graduating.

Not all students who attended graduated, of course... but those that did would have the chance to ascend through the ranks and become a teacher, a professor, or even (if they were particularly smart and/or lucky) a Grand Scholar.

As Mersery and Herkain walked they simultaneously relieved the past decade they had spent toiling and studying within the structure. A decade that had brought them closer together as friends. Mersery suddenly turned back to Herkain.

"Lets go, Herkain," he said. "If we are to leave this place behind soon, we had best make sure our soon-to-be ex-teachers and classmates remember us."

With that, Mersery picked up his pace as he made his way toward the academy. Smiling behind her Kanohi, Herkain followed.

Archosa

Alxor sat alone in the room that acted as his current command center, a sense of both satisfaction and anticipation flowing through him as he slowly scanned over a large map of the northern regions of his world. After several weeks of almost constant warfare, the leaders of the Saursapien homeland had finally given in and surrendered, adding yet another land to his rapidly growing empire.

This, however... he thought to himself.  is merely the beginning.

Indeed, the conquests of Mevock and their northern neighbor, Archosa, were the beginning of what would be the second phase in his crusade. Conquering the southern island chains had been easy enough; most of those lands were uninhabited, and those that weren't simply did not possess the technology or manpower to resist Alxor's forces.

Surely with Archosa's fall, word will soon spread of our activities, the Xevthian ruler mused as he idly examined the finely-crafted blade of his warlance. The lands of the north will soon become suspicious and panicked, trying desperately to gather information on just who is taking hold of their little world, one island at a time.

Alxor smiled at the thought. He wanted them to become suspicious and panicked. Little did his intended targets know that he had agents and spies in positions of power just about everywhere, quietly and subtly preparing the lands they were stationed on for his fleet's eventual arrival.

They will be so focused on fighting an enemy from without... Alxor said to himself. they will be completely helpless to defend themselves from the enemy within.

But where to start? There were so many lands to choose from on Alxor's map. He immediately dismissed the southern and northern landmasses; he needed to wait until his power had become more established before attempting to raid entire continents. Nynrah was a definite candidate. Stelt had potential as well, as did Xia and Nocterra. Alxor momentarily considered the Artakha and Karzahni regions, though ultimately passed those up as well.

I will need a land of resources and technology, he thought. One I can construct a new base of operations upon.

Alxor's clawed index finger slowly slid over the map's smooth surface, his eyes following its path. Suddenly, it stopped and his eyes settled on one of the western-most isles. It was a modest-sized spit of rock that lay just south of Artakha, one he had studied a great deal about in the past. Listed beside the picture was the island's name:

Versuva.

Chapter Two
Mersery and Herkain burst through the double-sided doors that marked the entrance to their classroom, if a little hurriedly. During their energizing rush through the Academy’s corridors, Mersery had accidently got them lost for roughly five minutes, meaning they had become much later than they already were. Though sharp and witty, Mersery definitely had a bad sense of direction.

Stopping to catch their breath, the two looked up to notice their classmates, and their tutor, a tall Mersion with glaring green eyes, staring right at them.

“Mersery! Herkain! You two are late again!” barked their instructor. “You are already half an hour late, and the class is already well underway. What was the cause of your delay this time?”

“Mersery overslept, again,” replied Herkain in a slightly nervous tone. “His studies kept him up too late again, and delayed us both. We’re sincerely sorry for the delay, professor.”

“Hmm,” their instructor grunted.

The Mersion teacher known as Kulant was one of the most – if not the most – senior scholar in the Great Academy. He had worked within its walls for longer than all the other staff members put together, and he had even had the high honor of being elected onto the Council of Eight, the ruling body of Versuva’s government. Obviously, because of this, he did not tolerate long delays.

“Under normal circumstances, you would have been disciplined for such a late arrival, though considering that you two are two of my best and brightest students, I suppose I can make an exception for you.”

The two students sighed, and took their seat behind a pair of identical, metal desks.

“Now then,” Kulant began in his cold, detached voice. “As I was saying, the early history of Metru Nui is one of the key moments in the history of the universe. Legend has it, that Metru Nui’s construction was the pinnacle creation of the mysterious creators known as the Great Beings when they were completing this universe. Whether or not the legend is true, is up to mass speculation. Now, what this implies is…”

Herkain eyes flickered over to her right, where Mersery was seated behind his desk, eagerly taking notes. For second, Herkain almost thought Mersery’s eyes were bulging out of his skull from his curiosity and fascination on this subject. It was really rather humorous sometimes, and a matter she sometimes teased him on, though she couldn’t laugh at it too much. Mersery had always been an extremely curious person, and balanced that out with his determination in his studies. Though he sometimes made rushed decisions, his eagerness and willingness to learn always pulled him through one way or another.

“Herkain! Are you listening to me?”

Herkain’s daydreaming was instantly shattered at the sound of Kulant’s testy, irritated voice. Forcing herself to meet his stare, Herkain commanded her voice to speak.

“I’m sorry, sir. My thoughts are starting to drift. Please forgive me.”

Kulant arced an eyebrow. “Very well. But you’re on your last warning. You’re an excellent student, Herkain, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted. Now, I shall continue.”

Herkain reapplied her thoughts and attention, and focused on Kulant’s words.

"Now then, today is the day you present to me your assignments that you have been working on over this term. If memory serves me correctly, you were preparing a presentation on the natural study of a particular Rahi native to Versuva. Seeing as these two were late, Mersery and Herkain will start the presentation."

The two learners stared at each other hesitantly, then recomposed themselves and moved to the head of the classroom. Held in Herkain's right hand, was a small cage, which in turn, contained a small, bird-like Rahi. The two placed their specimen on Kulant's desk, and opened the cage. The bird flew out, circled around the room, then neatly landed on Mersery's arm.

"This is a Versuvian Glider Owl," began Herkain. "A unique Rahi only ever found on Versuva. Unless somehow exported over by travellers coming from Versuva, they are not found in any other locations in the known universe."

There was a short pause.

"Well...," began Kulant impatiently. "What else do you have to say?"

What do I say, Mersery? snapped Herkain telepathically in Mersery's mind. You're supposed to be directing this section!

''My part of the presentation is on the flight patterns and hunting methods of the bird. You need to just beef up this section before I can begin.''

What do I say?

''Improvise. Use your natural charm and charisma.''

I do hate you sometimes.

''I know. It's what makes our friendship so fun.''

Herkain mentally sighed to herself. Forcing on a less-than convincing smile, which made her face seem cold and somewhat emotionless, she continued.

"The bird is usually utilised by the people across Versuva as couriers and messengers to citizens all over the island. Once tamed, they are both peaceful and friendly, and are adopted as pets in general. This one we found, was actually a wounded and found up near the peak of Mount Cadon, where the Glider Owls are famous for making their nests. She appeared to have been attacked by a larger Ice Bat, or something similar, though we brought her back to our home, healed her and gained her trust, effectively taming her."

Kulant nodded his head in interest, and scribbled some notes down on a stone tablet, obviously in regard to their presentation.

''Right then, Mersery. It's your turn and there's nothing you can do to change it.''

Couldn't I sway you with the offer of my best ever made, homemade dish of Madu fruit?

''The last time you tried to cook me that, you set it on fire and burnt it to a pile of ashes. It was also overripe, and you caused it to explode when cooking it. There's no way I'm accepting your offer, tempting though it is.''

It was worth a try.

"Continuing on from what Herkain was saying, the owls prefer to glide across powerful winds rather than fly through them, and they can do this for days without even tiring. If the situation arises, they can also use their wings to fly rather than glide, though they generally prefer the latter because it is more energy-conservative. They are independent and quiet, and prefer to fly alone rather than group themselves with other owls. Now, the Glider Owls generally prefer to eat fruit and small insects, rather than prey on other Rahi for food. They usually prefer to eat the energy-rich fruits of the Vuata Maca Trees, though sometimes consume Madu. Only in extreme situations I add, when they are ridiculously low on energy."

''Ridiculously low? That doesn't sound like a very scientific term, Mersery.''

''Quiet! I can speak in technobabble if I want to!''

If we loose marks because of that, then you'd better start running, because I'll be chasing you down the streets of Keadrah with a rather large axe.

''Save me the threats. Versuva hasn't sold weapons in its entire history.''

There's a first time for everything...

"The Owls do not, under any circumstances, attack prey larger than themselves, and rarely attack any Rahi smaller than them anyway. Being fruit-eaters, they have no desire to attack or disrupt the lifestyles of other Rahi unless it is absolutely necessary. They are generally peaceful animals, and they rarely choose to interfere with the dealings of other Rahi."

Much like our own kind, I suppose, said Mersery telepathically. Sometimes I wonder why we always just sit around doing nothing, when injustice is being wrought all around us.

We can talk about philosophical theories after ''we have done our presentation. Don't let your mind drift off just yet, Mersery.''

"And finally," Herkain continued. "We learned that while peaceful creatures, they are swift to react to danger with their powerful horn and claws, which are almost sharp enough to dent reinforced metallic Protodermis. Their attacks, however, are entirely for defense, and their claws are designed for speedily snatching up fruits rather than battling other Rahi, meaning they are not exactly creatures that would last long in a conflict."

"I see," replied Kulant with something equal to satisfaction in his voice. "And how you decided to name this little owl that serves as your specimen."

Herkain looked at Mersery. "Well, we weren't originally going to adopt this owl, let alone name her. But during our weeks of study, I became somewhat attached to this girl here, and decided to both keep her and name her. After much talk, we settled on the name Terkla."

"Terkla?" Kulant inquired.

"It's an old Versuvian word," replied Mersery. "I only thought it appropriate to name her after the old word 'messenger'."

The lecture would continue for another nine hours. A reasonably short period of learning in the Academy. Usually, classes like this would last up to twelve hours on average, though this one was cut short due to a staff meeting. By the end of the day — or rather the night — both friends left the Academy with a look of pride on their faces. After the presentations, Kulant had announced the results of the class' work, and surprisingly, Mersery and Herkain had come up on top. Needless to say, they were feeling very satisfied with themselves.

"I'd better get home," began Mersery as the pair walked through their favorite park. "I have plenty more important studies to catch up on. I've already lagged behind on the study of Matoran mythology and—"

"Mersery, after the amount of study you did last night, I insist you take the night off. And believe me, if you do go off to do some more revision, I will not be there in the morning to wake you up."

Mersery smiled at her sheepishly.

"Alright, alright. You win. But where do you have in mind to go for the remainder of today?"

"You can come 'round to my place," began Herkain. "We can do some study there, talk about some other stuff too, and then I'll see you off back to your home."

"Sounds like a plan," began Mersery with a grin.

"Oh, and Mersery?"

"Hm?"

"This time, I'm cooking."

And then, for a second that felt like an hour, the laughter of the two young and happy scholars was only thing heard, as the sound echoed all around the empty streets of Keadrah.

Archosa, several days later...

Toa Morvak ducked a swipe from the sword of his Zarak opponent. He dodged another hit, another deathblow, and rallied forwards and launched himself into the air, using the momentum to deal two dangerous kicks to the face and the stomach. Bringing the flat of his double-bladed sword down on the face of the Zarak before him, Morvak sent him reeling across the ground before using his elemental powers to lift him up lightly, and then fling him away like a toothpick.

The Toa of Air sighed in exhaustion, and fell to his knees as his legs buckled and gave in. The fatigue he was experiencing was tremendous. He had been fighting off a platoon of Zarak shortly after they had stumbled across his campsite in the forests of Archosa. He had positioned himself on the borderline that divided the lush, jungle expanses that dominated most of Archosa from the barren northern peninsula. Needless to say, he had not had a very comfortable stay on the island since his arrival.

Although his friends had objected, Morvak had decided that he would leave his homeland to try and prevent the newly arisen Alxor and his empire from advancing any further from the southern lands as best he could. Of course, that was easier said than done. He was only a rookie Toa, new to the role of a protector, and he'd expected this much hardship.

However, when he had heard of the Archosians’ struggles with these invaders, he couldn’t resist the urge to try and help. He had arrived in the midst of the conflict, and had swiftly signed up with the Saursapien military force. Though some felt a little reluctant to let a person as youthful as him into their forces, they soon found themselves without a choice but to accept his help.

The fighting had continued for another four days. And on the last day of the struggle, the Xevthian Empire had waved its flag high in the skies of Archosa’s tallest mountain, a fearful reminder of the overwhelmingly brutal power of Alxor’s great army.

Not willing to submit before the tyrant’s reign, Morvak had fled into the deep jungles of the island, struggling for days with what little supplies he had left to calculate a new stratagem to fight off the Xevthian warriors. He was alone in this decision. He had no one to help him in his decisions at the moment.

CLANG!

Apart from his faithful, little Matoran friend, of course. Morvak jumped to his feet and spun around to confront a potential new foe, only to see a small Matoran in orange and white armor standing before him, his hands high above his head and his eyes wide. By his feet lay a strange weapon of alien design.

“Don’t hurt me, Toa! It’s only me! I thought you might like this Xevthian weapon I found some time back there!”

Morvak placed his sword back in its sheath and growled as the Matoran laid a large, pointed cutlass before him.

“For the last time, Ronkoz, I don’t want your help! This is a job for a Toa, not a little Matoran! You shouldn’t be out here risking your neck on the battlefield for someone like me! You should have stayed in your village.”

“And do what?” barked the Matoran back angrily. “Bow down before the new rulers of this land? Give into their every whim, and tolerate the slavery? No, I think not. I’d rather die out here in the field, fighting for a worthy cause, rather than die in fear and hopelessness. Face it Morvak; I’m tagging along. Whether you like it or not.”

Morvak sighed wearily. For the last three days, Ronkoz had been following him across Archosa, and had refused to go back. I suppose it was about time he put up with the fact that the Matoran wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Fine,” grumbled Morvak. “Though it will be your fault if you get killed for coming. Not mine.”

“Fair enough,” replied Ronkoz. “Now, what do you plan to do about Archosa’s occupation? There must be some way to fight back.”

“I afraid there isn’t,” replied Morvak sadly. “Archosa has fallen, and Alxor has already moved on. For more death and conquest. Wherever he’s gonna go: I plan to go with him.”

“And where exactly would that be?” asked Ronkoz snappishly. “Where could Alxor go next? There are countless more islands to the north, and he could already be in the direction of any one of them.”

“About four days ago,” began Morvak. “I positioned myself outside a Xevthian campsite. Whilst they were resting, I was able to sneak up close enough into their territory to overhear one of their field commanders discuss their next movements. They plan to establish a base on the isle of Versuva.”

“The Mersion homeland? Why there?” inquired the Matoran crafter curiously.

“Not the foggiest idea,” began Morvak. “But I have a feeling we’re going to be finding out very soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pack up your things, Matoran. We’re taking a little detour to a little island in the north.”

The cold air rushed against Alxor’s face as he stood on the deck of his mighty warship. All around him, crewmen attended to the numerous weapons and equipment scattered over the deck, whilst two long rows of muscled Zarak thrust their mighty oars into the water, and propelled the massive vessel forward. Alxor closed his eyes and inhaled the sea air into his lungs as another massive wave of water washed upon the deck. He smiled. He had never had much of an opportunity to absorb the invigorating aura of the sea on his volcanic homeland, and now that he did, he found that he liked its feeling. It helped him relaxed himself in times of stress.

As he rattled his clawed hand on the rail, he turned his head first to his left, then his right, to look at the three other war vessels floating in the sea on either side of his own. Those six battle ships served as the command ships of his huge armada, behind Alxor's own warship. In less than a month, Alxor had managed to rally one of the biggest battle fleets in the history of the universe. With his armada alone, he had ravaged entire islands in the southern chains of the universe, and forced others to surrender out of sheer terror of Alxor’s ships.

Truly, he was going to become one of the most legendary figures in all of history when he was through with his invasions. Mevock and Archosa had now been safely cemented as islands under his command, and now he was headed for the land of Versuva. Alxor’s smile grew wider as he continued his thinking. He knew he had to cherish every moment of glory and battle that was to come.

Abruptly, his thinking was interrupted by the sound of a hoarse voice clearing its owner’s throat.

“High-king Alxor,” said a figure behind him. “Your council is gathered. They await your divine presence.”

Alxor lurched around, and stood to his full intimidating height, staring down at the black and silver armored figure before him.

“Good… Anything else, Zeverek?”

Skorr gritted his teeth as he tried his best to keep the anger out of his tone. Since his capture by that Zarak scouting battalion, Skorr had been assigned to become the custodian and manservant aboard Alxor’s personal vessel. He was a special "gift" from one of Alxor's recently-oppointed generals who now oversaw Mevock's occupation. Needless to say, he wasn’t enjoying his new job very much. Nor was he liking his new employer.

“No, your highness. That is all.”

Without even bothering to reply, Alxor stormed passed Skorr and passed through the front doors of the captain's cabin, leaving the pride-wounded Zeverek to merely stare after him in bitterness and contempt. Alxor continued his advance through the short corridor of his quarters until he passed through a set of finely carved wooden doors to stand before a number of warriors, all situated behind a elegant wooden table. Taking a seat at the head of the table, Alxor slammed his fist against its wooden surface as an indicator the discussions had begun.

“What news of our progress?” barked Alxor, gruffly. “I grow impatient with our delays.”

An older member of his kind at the end of the right-hand side of the table cleared his throat and spoke.

“We have made good progress with our conquests,” began the advisor. “Your spies have already began diverting the attention of other rulers away from your oncoming approach, and await further instructions. In addition, your advance fleet have docked on Zakaz, and are already beginning to infiltrate the natives’ cities. We expect to be in complete control of the island at a minimum of two months.”

“That’s too long,” replied Alxor. “I need my agents seeded into the northernmost regions of this world by the time I secure my position on Versuva, and not even I know how long that will take.”

“The conquest of Versuva will be quite swift, I believe,” said a lean, white-armored Zarak male from the end of the table. “The Mersions may have formidable powers, no doubt, but they rarely use them, and even when they do, they use them for menial tasks. I doubt their powers will be as exercised as they should be to combat a fully-fledged military force. They will not dare to try and get their lily-white hands dirtied in the invasion.”

Alxor stared down his opponent, and narrowed his eyes when he met his gaze. “Don’t patronize me, Zarak. Just because I added you to my council, does not mean you have the right to snap at me. I’m in charge here! And I will not tolerate inscolence.”

The Zarak leaned back in his chair, his cool aura remaining ever-present in even Alxor’s intimidating presence. He had been elected as the representative of the Zarak race in Alxor’s court, and he was one of the most prominent clan leaders of his race. Because of this, he had been appointed to the highest point of Alxor’s ruling government, and spoke on behalf of his race in times like these.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” he replied calmly. “I’m simply voicing my opinion.”

“Well be more considerate of what comes out of your mouth, Zarak!” Alxor barked back. “No race is to be underestimated, even the Mersions. Nobody knows if they might have a secret superweapon stashed up their sleeves.”

There was silence from the rest of Alxor’s court, until the high-king himself broke the silence.

“Now, this is what we are going to do: We are going to take Versuva by storm, enslave its natives, plunder their resources, and establish our dominance. Then, using Versuva as our footing and base of operations in the northern regions, we will launch a full-scale invasion on the remaining lands, and then claim the grand prize that is Metru Nu. The pinnacle of our empire is near. We are almost unstoppable. Now, any objections?”

There was silence until the male Zarak rose from his end of the table and thrust his arm into the air.

“For victory! For conquest! For honor! For the glory of the Xevthian Empire!” . The other members of Alxor’s council rose from their spots and repeated the same chant:

“For victory! For conquest! For honor! For the glory of the Xevthian Empire!”

For his part, Alxor merely smiled back at his slimy, backstabbing political allies.

The recently-appointed Zarak general stood atop a large podium, overseeing a massive crowd of shackled Zeverek. Surrounding them, were hundreds of Xevthian and Zarak soldiers. Since the success of his campaigns to conquer Mevock, he had been personally appointed by Alxor himself one of the Xevthian Empire's high generals. He had taken no pride or glory in the moment of his promotion. To him, it was just another part of his job. And another part of his job included commanding roughly a quarter of the Empire's land-based legions and military. In addition to being the overlord of Mevock, the general had also been placed in charge of overseeing the dictatorship of most of the southern islands. His achievement was remarkable for one of the "servant" class, a status that had been instated upon all Zarak under Alxor's rule.

Now, he stood before most of the population of Mevock, preparing to announce the new rules and regulations to be enforced under Alxor's new regime.

"These are the official terms of the Xevthian Empire's occupation of your land. If you do not comply to the following laws, then you will be executed. You are not to challenge the authority of the Empire's rule under any circumstances. Doing so is punishable by death. You are to submit and obey every command handed out by an official of the Empire, and do so to the very best of your capabilities. Failure to do so is punishable by injury. You are to join in the great work of the Xevthian Empire, in the work of building a better, and united society. refusal to do so will not be tolerated. You are to show that upmost respect and admiration to the great high-king Alxor whenever in his presence or partaking in conversations with him. Disrespecting him in any way, whilst in the presence of a servant of his greatness, is punishable by immediate execution. Disobedience and rebellion are intolerable, and if caught doing either, will bring you immediate execution."

The general paused and cleared his throat. His lieutenant and second-in-command Mysa stood by his side, glaring down at a Zeverek who had six seconds earlier spat on the feet of a Zarak soldier.

"Those are the terms of Mevock's occupation, and the laws have been approved of by both myself, high-king Alxor, and the rest of his ruling council. We hope you will comply to these laws, and make the effort into turning this land of waste and rock into a truly marvellous region. One that will glow with the glory of the Xevthian Empire. New buildings shall be built to replace the remnants of your own to reflect the new start of this new beginning, and I will sincerely hope that you share the same joy and enthusiasm high-king Alxor does. You are now dismissed from my presence, and may begin in the work being done here."

And as the Zarak general turned away and stepped down from the podium with Mysa, the sound of whipping and agonised screaming from exhausted slaves became the only sound they could hear as they departed the perimeter.

Chapter Three
Kulant sat alone in his office, pondering as he often did after his duties as a teacher were done for the night. Under normal circumstances, he usually dwelled on matters that concerned either his job, or Versuva as a whole...

These weren't normal circumstances. This time, the elder Mersion was trying in vain to decide a course of action that would have major consequences no matter what.

''If what this tablet says is true, Versuva could be in dire trouble. If not, I'll have put my reputation on the line for nothing.''

Once again, Kulant looked down at the tablet he had received, via glider owl. It was the latest in a series of letters that had been sent by a colleague of his who was in the middle of an expedition to the lands of the south. And once again, the main topic of the message was the rapidly growing regime known as the "Xevthian Empire", which was under the leadership of a native to the south known as "Alxor".

Kulant grimaced at the names, which had been popping up from various sources recently. A few months ago, Kulant would have dismissed the whole thing; the southern lands were well-known for being home to more than one brutal or savage race, and it wasn't uncommon to hear about some overly-ambitious warlord or military leader "declaring war" against the rest of the world. Such factions were usually ill-suited to leading their people for long, and typically collapsed within a decade or two, more often than not by their own hands.

He began paying attention, however, when he heard of the Xevthians' domination of Mevock, and later Archosa. To conquer the southern island chains was one thing (few, if any, of those islands were actually vital to the universe's ongoing survival), but to attack and claim dominion over not just one, but two of the northern islands... that was simply unheard of!

And already I'm hearing rumors of the Empire's next potential targets, Kulant thought to himself.

Now he had a choice to make: He could arrange a meeting with the Council of Eight and discuss this with them, or he could keep his suspicions to himself and hope for the best. If he went before the Council, he'd probably end up looking like a fool for his lack of evidence, which would certainly damage his reputation. If he kept quiet, he might very well doom his entire homeland to being yet another land under the Xevthian banner.

What was a Mersion to do?

Mysa ducked yet another swipe from her opponent's blade before using her own weapons to force him back. With a growl she continued her assault, slashing and kicking at every opening offered to her, only to have each of her strikes skillfully blocked.

"Come now, sister," her opponent began. "Surely you can do better than that."

Mysa gave only a snort in response; she knew when she was being baited. Instead, the female Zarak backed off and began circling her foe, searching for a weakness in his defenses and growing frustrated when she found none.

"Well?" she finally said. "Why are you standing there like a statue? If you're so eager for battle, why not come and get it?"

Her sparring partner merely gave a small, amused grin. "Why doesn't a swamp eel go off in search of its food?" he asked, watching as Mysa edged closer, no doubt continuing her search for an opening. "It's more practical to allow one's prey to make the mistake of wandering too close. All you have to do then is wait for the right opening. And then..."

With that, Mysa's opponent became a blur of motion, his hands and limbs wielding his broadsword faster than any average warrior could possibly track.

Mysa, however, was anything but an "average warrior".

Somehow, the female Zarak moved equally fast, maneuvering her twin blades with the speed and power of lightning. Soon, she and her opponent arrived a stalemate, their weapons locked together by their respective owners' sheer strength and determination.

"Good advise," Mysa said in a slightly strained voice as she pitted her strength against that of her foe. "You forgot one thing, however..."

"Which is...?"

Mysa's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Sometimes, in the game of predator and prey, the one that is hunting ends up becoming the hunted."

With that, the female's muscular tail lashed out from behind her and coiled around her foe's right ankle like a wild constrictor. Caught by surprise, the sparring partner was suddenly yanked off his feet, forcing him to the floor. Taking advantage, Mysa brought one of her blades down again, only to have them blocked by her foe's weapon. A strike from her other sword sent the blade of her opponent skidding across the chamber, beyond the reach of the male Zarak.

Mysa looked down at her foe in triumph as she raised one of her blades for a final strike...

"Enough."

The order from her downed opponent was all Mysa needed to hear. Obediently, she backed off and sheathed her blades as her sparring partner climbed to his feet. As he did so, Mysa quickly and discreetly looked him over for injury. It was something she had always done; the male was her brother and closest friend, after all.

Though he had a name like all beings, he was rarely addressed by it these days; since securing his high rank within the Xevthian military, most simply addressed him formally as "Sir", or more commonly, "General".

Dusting himself off, the male Zarak turned back to Mysa.

"You've been practicing, sister," the General remarked in a tone that carried both approval and slight surprise. "This is the first time I've ever lost a match to you."

Mysa couldn't help but smirk at his tone and words. "Would you rather I pretend to lose, dear brother?"

The General's expression quickly turned to one of distaste. "I would demote you if you did," he snorted before turning and walking toward a table hosting cloth towels and glasses of water on the other side of the training chamber.

Mysa watched as he took a sip of water. The General had been on edge since being assigned to Mevock two weeks ago, and wasn't showing any sign of loosening up anytime soon.

"What's wrong with you, brother?" Mysa asked as she approached. "You've been sullen for weeks now."

The General raised a brow at the boldness of her statement, though wasn't really surprised... Of all the soldiers and lieutenants under his command, Mysa was the only one who had the freedom to openly question his authority.

"I'm not sullen," he replied coolly. "I'm just... edgy. I should be commanding my soldiers on the front lines, not watching over a land teaming with Zeverek miscreants."

"Please, brother. You're one of the High-King's highest-ranking generals," Mysa said as she picked up her own glass of water. She took as sip before continuing. "You alone command the entire south-eastern island chain as well as Mevok. In a lot of ways, you're Alxor's most trusted agent. That's nothing for a Zarak to sneeze at, considering where we come from."

The General had to agree with that last statement. When Alxor took command, he imposed a segregation policy on the two species native to the homeland; Xevthians were deemed the ruling class on the island, while the General's own people, the Zarak, were "employed" as a servant rank, mostly utilized as laborers or law enforcers, the latter of which he himself was once. Zarak rarely attained any higher existence.

The General found himself subtly grinding his teeth at the thought. Contrary to what some might have thought, the Zarak general didn't serve Alxor and the Empire out of any sense of loyalty, or even out the hope of attaining personal wealth or power. Truth be told, he did what he did to help his own people.

As long as I am in a position of power, I can slowly but surely make things better for them.

"Not to sound insensitive, brother," Mysa said, bringing her companion out of his thoughts. "... but now isn't a time to look troubled. We have company."

The General turned at the sound of another's approach, and gave an irritated sigh when he caught sight of the newcomer, a somewhat lean and sleek example of a male Zarak, whose eyes held more than a trace of menace.

"Gilvex," the General said, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. "To what do we owe this unwanted -- er, unexpected pleasure?"

Gilvex merely snorted. Though he had started out a mere soldier, his ability to stick to the shadows quickly led to his promotion. He was now the official liaison between the High-King and his various generals and lieutenants.

"No pleasure intended, Sir... Believe me," Gilvex said as he dug into his pack. After a few moments, he produced a small tablet, upon which was a message carved in their native Xevthian/Zarak language. "I was sent by the High-King to deliver this."

The General accepted the tablet and quickly scanned over it before passing it to Mysa.

"So, he's really going through with it, huh?" the female Zarak stated after finishing the message. "Alxor's really going to try to conquer the lands to the north."

"Yes," Gilvex replied. "The first land to fall after Archosa will be the Mersion homeland of Versuva... And he wants the General by his side."

Mysa looked to her brother, searching for some reaction, though found the General's face remained emotionless, as usual. After a long moment of silence, however, he finally spoke.

"Tell the High-King I will do as he commands," the General ordered. "I will leave as soon as possible."

With little more than a snort, Gilvex turned and left the room to begin the long journey back north. Behind him, the General began walking toward the exit on the opposite side of the chamber, Mysa just a few steps behind.

"It would seem you got your wish, brother," she said. "So, when do we leave?"

"I will be leaving very soon," the General replied. "You are to remain here and maintain order in my place."

"What?!" she shot back as she followed him through the corridors of the fortress. "You can't be serious!"

"You are the only one the natives fear almost as much as I," the General said. "Only your presence will keep them in line. You are staying here. Understood?"

A long moment passed where the only sound that could be heard was the Zarak's footfalls. Finally Mysa sighed.

"Fine," she relented.

"Good," the General said. "Now, see to it that my warships are prepared. And tell our men that we leave in three days... Tell them a new conquest awaits."

Chapter Four
The air was chilled and quiet on the island of Artakha. Night was descending on the mysterious land, and the Matoran craftsmen of the mythological place were starting to finish their daily tasks and labors. The suns had long since descended over the island. However, whilst the majority of Artakha returned to their dwellings for rest, one of their numbers walked through the empty streets, one destination in mind. Even in this place of light, this Matoran knew the land was no longer as secure as he had once been led to believe.

Indeed. He had been hearing many tales of this mighty Xevthian Empire as they continued to advance towards the northern islands, and after the surprise invasions on Mevock and Archosa, rumors had even come to Artakha, the Great Refuge, that the significant world leaders were starting to panic, following the fall of Archosa and Mevock.

Whilst the land of Mevock and its people did not have much worth or significance in the northern lands, the land was valued for on reason; its position. The Zeverek homeland had been the very first island to fall to the Empire, and it served as the foothold that the Empire would need to neatly conquer the other lands. Archosa was perhaps even more critical. Next to Xia, the Saursapiens controlled one of the biggest trading powers in the universe, and were a primary source of gear, parts and tools to their buyers. With the capture of Archosa, the Xevthian Empire would have a massive increase in production of all kinds war machines, ranging from battle vessels to weaponry. One of the many spoils of great conquest. And people were now worrying that Artakha itself would fall under the Empire's banner.

Of course, this was all just rumor. Stories whispered amongst the ranks of the crafters, and gossip off the street. But Xakon wasn't one of those who lived in obliviousness. For a few years now, the ruler of this island after which it was named had been a very close ally of the mysterious Hand of Artakha, a daring alliance of vigilantes and the public defenders of the universe. And in these troubling times, Xakon had been chosen to serve as Artakha's messenger. To communicate the information Artakha had no time to deliver himself. It was both an honor and a test to have such a position. To be forced to hide such information from his friends and crafters tet be allowed to privilege of knowing what was going on.

Xakon approached an elegant structure that stood out in the fine streets of the Great Refuge. It was nothing particularly special, but Xakon knew its importance. It served as the Hand's base in this region of the universe. Not its headquarters, but certainly one of its most significant operation centers. Artakha had been generous in letting them make a fortress here. As he approached the front door, through the silent empty streets, Xakon rapped the iron door three times with his fist. The sound echoed outwards, and broke the silent mood.

Xakon almost flinched.

Then, a small panel in the door opened up, and two orange eyes stared out at him, clearly analysing the Le-Matoran standing before him. Xakon felt as exposed as an library of information tablets.

"Who are you? Name yourself!" barked the voice. It was edgy, and sounded impatient, lacking any trace of formality or politeness.

"My name is Xakon. I am the official representative of Artakha, and his personally designated liaison. I am here to discuss the occurrences surrounding the advance of the Xevthian Empire."

There was a deep, gruff grumble and the panel closed as the sound of several locks snapping resounded around the empty area, and the thick iron door then swung open, making a loud screeching noise on its hinges. Beyond the door was a tall, skinny figure; though his dark coloring and the night time blackness that swallowed this section of Artakha obscured any more specific features.

"Come in now," he said sharply, and before he had realized it, Xakon had raced into the darkness beyond the doorway. The iron door was closed shut in an instant, as the hinges wailed, and darkness enveloped all.

"Take my hand," said the voice, a little more relaxed this time.

Xakon felt out until his hand brushed against a larger, armored palm, and immediately Xakon squeezed it. Then, a new sensation struck him. He felt himself moving. Moving so fast his body felt as if by the time he stopped, he would have lost his physical density. And he hadn't even moved a muscle. Abruptly, they stopped, and Xakon doubled over and fell to the floor, completely stunned. He felt like he was going to be sick.

He stayed there for several seconds more before he picked himself up off the hard floor. The room they were in was much brighter than the large corridor they had just been in, but still very dark. A single Lightstone embedded in the ceiling shed brightness upon a circular, marble table; gathered around it being a number of strange and unfamiliar faces.

"Observos," began an intimidating silver and jet-black person with a cold, yet anxious look in his green eyes. "You should know better than to accelerate up and down these corridors. Especially with guests. You tend to have a habit of never knowing how fast your truly going. It would be especially unfortunate if you stopped and your atomic structure stabilized halfway inside a wall or something."

Xakon looked up to the being he had just sped here with, and found he was now able to see him properly in the light. He was a tall and lean being, with clawed hands and a reptilian-like face. Xakon watched as his navy-blue armour faded into an equally dark shade of green. Xakon hadn't realized the alteration in color until the change had finally settled.

Observos looked at him and winked friendlily. He was the last of his kind; a subspecies of the Archosian Lepidians. A subspecies that had long since died out in a massacre initiated by the Xevthian Empire when they invaded his race's land of Isla Sphenos, just off the coast of Archosa. Despite the tragedy of this, he still enjoyed surprising his friends and foes alike with a couple of brilliant tricks he still kept on his person.

"I'm sorry, Hydraxon. I simply dislike the dull, boring pace that comes with walking."

"If we can skip this pointless small-talk, we need to move onto the subject of this gathering. The Hand of Artakha needs to judge opinions on the current crisis with this Alxor person and his military regime. His conquests have divided the universe in half. He controls the south of the known regions, though the north remains effectively in the hands of the established rulers of our world."

It was an intimidating blue being with scratched, battle-worn armor who spoke. She was a Toa, that much was obvious, but there was something different about her. And those eyes. They blazed like a supernova of shining fire. They were serious and fierce, and raged with extreme vigor and determination.

She had a powerful aura that seemed to dominate everyone in the room, an aura that was impossible to ignore. She wasn't particularly old, but she definitely seemed like someone who had spent so much time on the battlefield, that battle had become no more difficult than breathing. And then, Helryx -- Toa of Water and the very first of her kind in existence -- raised her eyebrow to the silence that answered her, making her hardened features send a chill down Xakon's spine.

"The Empire had already dominated mostly the entire southern region of the universe, and it is all the remaining lands can do but to wait and watch for their next move. I hear Metru Nui has sent diplomats and ambassadors to form some form of peace treaty with Alxor, whilst the Vortixx of Xia have proposed a pact in which they would supply them weaponry in exchange for freedom. Regardless of the faction who will try to talk, no one seems to be able to negotiate or bargain with the Empire, and now some lands are reaching the bleak conclusion that the only thing they can do is surrender to their rule before they come to invade."

Xakon gulped. Though he had more insight than most on this matter, he had never realized that things were this bad.

"The rise of the Xevthians and their High-King is the single-most defining moment in recent years. His bold move has left entire islands scrambling to muster up their defenses, whilst the shadowy cloud that is this empire continues to hover over them. And most of all, they know how fear works. The bold cunning of their strategy has undone many islands, and sent their political leaders spiralling. This is merely a stage of what seems to be Alxor's master plan as he pulls his strings and manipulates everything against us."

"But surely we can stop his oncoming wave of destruction?" asked large, muscled titan of silver and red armor. "We've dealt with such foes before, and all have fallen in the past."

"This time, Axonn, I'm not sure. Taking note of the Empire's domination tactics, its clear they're cutting off all our friends. They're move is bold and daring, and the fact that they have cut off Archosa from our contact, means one of our primary trade sources has been removed, and our available options are being paralysed. We are no longer facing a possible outburst from a group of primitive warmongers, my friends. We are facing downright war. War is going to become an inevitable factor in all this, and we need to react a decision fast if we're going to get the high ground. However, Alxor's advance has yet to be halted. The execution of his plan is flawless, and has even left the Hand's leader, our very own leader, completely mind-blown. The universe faces a true threat for the first time in its history! This is unlike anything we have ever seen before! They already have nearly a half of the world undisputedly in their talons."

Then, another figure rose to challenge Helryx. He towered over her, and was adorned in thick armor. An agent plucked from the arenas of Stelt, Guardna was a long-time ally of Helryx, though not above challenging her cases.

"And what would you have us do, Helryx? The Empire's forces are larger and more powerful than ours by a tenfold. We may be formidable, but we cannot afford to wage an open war we know we cannot win! The Xevthian Empire is too great for us to overcome! We need to be smart about this."

"And how long will it take us to conjure up a plan to counter Alxor's own?" snapped Helryx, not bothering to conceal the anger and traces of annoyance on her expression.

"A year? Two years? More? Alxor's had years to plan this out, and how much time do we have? No, we need surprise on our side. Only surprise will unsettle the Empire's attack! They appear from the wastes of some of the most worthless lands, and they think they can claim the universe with one colossal attack? I won't let this be!"

"But we have to take Alxor's plans into consideration. As you said, his meticulous calculations for his invasion are without any trace of flaw. Mevock and Archosa are simply the first of many more targeted attacks against us, the setting stone for a war with us. And they're turning our leaders against us, as they bicker and argue over a course of action that won't somehow result in them taking unnecessary risks. Alxor's genius has turned entire islands against each other and ruined age-old alliances between different races out of total fear. This is one of the most well-orchestrated and carefully coordinated strikes in our time. It must've taken years of planning and preparation to devise such a stratagem. And I don't doubt Alxor took into consideration groups of heroes and champions like us."

"Ah, but if he knows we're a threat to his power, then he knows that we will strike at a time when he won't anticipate it. So he will strike us first, only to find us waiting and expecting his wrath. We will be ready, and the Hand will go through with this struggle to end the Empire. We must go on and do this. It is our duty to the Great Spirit and the Three Virtues themselves. We need allies, and we need weapons, but most of all, we need morale. We need warriors ready to die for our cause. I intend to propose my plans to our group's leader, but first, I need to know you stand with me! Do you stand with me?"

The assembled Hand members cheered in response, but Xakon remained quiet. Once things began settling down, he pitched in for the first time and spoke.

"And what do you want the peoples of Artakha to do? What would you have us do in the face of all this danger? Artakha definitely wants to help, but he doesn't want to risk our survival foolishly."

"We require no physical strength from your master. Artakha provides little in terms of military, but we will need you to give us weaponry. Archosa may have been efficient in trading and producing weapons, but the quality of Artakha's will be so much better than theirs. We need you to supply the Hand alone with weaponry. Artakha would not want to become a visual target by supplying to all the known universe, and prompting him to hunt him down, but we need you to supply for us. What do you say?"

Xakon paused for a moment, and then said three words that cemented the future of the universe. And it was three of the most simple words imaginable in such a revolutionary moment.

"It's a deal."

Herkain stood in the bustling heart of Keadrah's merchant center, stand in front of a tall stand on a street corner in the busied square of all. She was desperately trying to talk over the screaming and shouting of traders, buyers, and others as they talked about trivial things such as price, quality, quantity, materials and other irrelevant factors. Herkain rolled her eyes as she struggled to continue talking with her friend over the noise and yelling of wandering Mersions and Matoran. So, as fluidly as she would drink a glass of water, she leaned against the kiosk and continued talking -- or at least, try to shout it out.

"And then I said I could cook for the evening, to avoid having anything close to a messy or explosive dinner that I had last time!"

Herkain heard a friendly, mildly deep voice laugh hard behind the counter. Her friend was a small being, with a lovely persona.

"Oh, Herkain! You powers to comedy and your ability to make me laugh never lose their charm on me. You get me every time."

Herkain couldn't help but grin at her friend. "Thanks Corzakx. He's a good person, and an even closer friend, but definitely far from skilled at preparing meals."

Corzakx leaned over the counter, still smiling honestly and continued the conversation. "This Mersery fellow, what's he like? I've only ever heard you mention him as a classmate and the reason you're late for lessons sometimes."

"Oh, Mersery's one of my dearest and oldest friends. In fact, I'd say he's my closest. He's funny, eager, and clever. Clever enough to rival my own intelligence, which I value, but please excuse me if I sound vain."

"No, no! Not at all!" replied Corzakx, eyes wide and shaking his hands in front of her. "If he's got the brains to catch your eye, then he's certainly a card."

"He may be that, but he's a bit... eccentric, I suppose. He's a tad odd, but only in the good way. He's an interesting blend of witty quirks, passionate learning, deep knowledge, solid understanding, and a trace of naivety in the blend too."

"How'd you meet such a guy in the first place, anyway?" asked Corzakx, friendly intention in his eyes. "Don't worry, I have time. I don't usually get customers at the peak time of business anyway."

"Well," Herkain began. "It was back at my inception into the Great Academy. Back when I was part of the latest batch of new students introduced into the mainstream of the university. We had this big, long monologue made by my teacher, Kulant during the welcoming ceremony, that I must admit, was rather boring and all. Then, we were dismissed and released into the hall so we could socialize and get to know each other."

"So lucky you got into the Academy," muttered Corzakx. "I can't even become a scholar."

"Anyways, I was wondering around the hall, looking for a crowd to blend in with and join, when I noticed this bewildered chap lingering around on the outskirts of the conversations and groups, looking seriously puzzled and confused. With no one else to talk to, I went over and asked him how he was. He told me he'd missed the whole introduction ceremony due to getting lost in the Academy's halls, and had no idea what was going on. So I updated him on what'd happen, and from there on, he stuck around me in classes whenever he turned up late, and from there bloomed a close relationship."

"Close relationship, aye?" inquired Corzakx, a curious smile on his face. "You never mentioned this, my dear."

Herkain mentally kicked herself for blurting everything out so carelessly.

"Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you. What'd I gain from taunting a friend?"

"I suppose. Well... Mersery and I have been really, really close for the last decade or more. And we consider each other friends. But I'm just not sure if that's all we're meant to be. Just classmates. I'm not sure I can say if we're in anything deeper, but I'm not sure if I can say we're simply friends. I don't know! These thoughts keep me up at night sometimes."

Corzakx put his hand on Herkain's arm, a look of understanding in his deep green eyes. "What's stoppin' you from making your mind up?"

"It's just that, well, sometimes we look at each other, and I feel like I want the moment to go on forever, though the moment inevitably breaks down as it tends to due to an unforseen factor. Other times, he just seems so oblivious that it almost feels irritating that he doesn't register anything. Whether intentionally or not, he tends to hide any such feelings behind a mask of emotional unawareness. And then I just don't know."

"Sound's as if he either doesn't know how he feels for you or he doesn't want any form of closer relationship at all."

"The spark of closer feelings for one other is there, Corzakx, its simply a question if that spark will ever be lit or not that's puzzling. Only time will tell, and only time will show me if I maybe wasted an opportunity for a closer friend, or pursued a pointless, illogical endeavour."

Herkain then blinked in realization. She realized she had been holding the supplies she had come to buy in her hands for the last ten minutes whilst chatting; a new stash of lightstones, a bundle of string, some nails, and a few mechanical gears.

"Thanks for the supplies," Herkain said, a little too hastily, as she felt herself blush slightly. She felt an odd sense of embarrassment within her core, for coming out so cleanly with all this for a merchant she only ever met every now and then. She slid her Versuvian currency across the counter of Corzakx's stall as payment for her gear.

"Thanks for the supplies, Corzakx. Very much appreciated."

"See you soon," replied Crozakx, shouting out to his friend in an effort to be heard, but Herkain had already walked away and disappeared into the thick, moving crowd of Keadrah's busiest bazaar.

Far away, high in the skies of the windswept mountains of Versuva, a lone bird Rahi circled and danced above in the howling screams of the storm, drifting on the air currents, and flowing with the blizzard's patterns. It adjusted and adapted to wind's ever constant changes, but still remaining in position. Seconds ticked by, until the bird dropped down through the snowy, cold skies and let gravity claim it. It fell and fell and fell through the foggy drifts until it broke through the clouds and fell further. And then it outstretched its wings, and with undeniable grace, the bird began to float lightly through the channels of the air.

It drifted and drifted until it land on a long branch, stretching out from a dead Vuata Maca Tree. The bird stared down into a valley below, and its eyes scanned the hilltops and patches of deep, navy blue grass, capped in thick snow.

The bird was dark red in color, and it was perched on the branch like an Ice Bat just before prey was spotted. The male Glider Owl looked down into the valley and saw what it knew its master wanted to see. It saw a town. A small village on the outskirts of one of the bigger cities. No guards, no weaponry, and no visible signs of resistance.

It drifted down further from the branch to get a better angle of the village, and landed atop a small cliff ledge. From his new perspective, the Owl could see that the village was positioned right above a long coastline, the cold waves of the water crashing in towards the shore. The line stretched on and on and on until it stopped at the base of two giant mountains on either side, and the village was directly in-between both mountains.

And it was defenseless. Yes,  hissed a strange, whispered voice that sounded like Spine Slugs slithering on steel. ''That is where the fall shall begin. Through that lagoon is where we shall come. It small, isolated, and detached from the rest of the land.''

A sound that resembled a snarling Kraata, which was intended to come out like a chuckle radiated in the Owl's mind. It shifted its legs on the ground uneasily.

''My telepathic bond with you is strong, little Rahi. I can see so clearly through your small eyes, and determine so much. Who would've thought that my greatest scout and spy would come in the form of a tamed Glider Owl? You are a very loyal creature indeed. Disciplined and tamed. But enough of this petty talk. You will head to Versuva's greatest city, and watch over the meeting of the last possible chances of remnants. I want to see and hear what they say, and how they can oppose me. So go, little Rahi. Do what you were destined to do.''

And so, the great Versuvian Glider Owl, colored crimson red like his master with traces of silver, leapt of the branch and soared off into the air. Its destination was known, and its mission was simple:

Keadrah, the Great Tower, and the Council of Eight. And the moment that could define the turning point in all of history...

Characters

 * Xevthians
 * Alxor
 * An unnamed Xevthian servant
 * An unnamed Xevthain councillor
 * Several unnamed Xevthian soldiers
 * Zarak
 * Conqueror
 * Mysa
 * Gilvex (Toa Hydros)
 * Frostbite
 * Several unnamed Zarak soldiers
 * A Zarak that fought Toa Morvak
 * Zeverek
 * Skorr/Skorr (Toa Hydros)
 * Several unnamed Zeverek slaves
 * Mersions
 * Herkain
 * Mersery/Mersery (Toa Hydros)
 * Kulant
 * Morvak
 * Ronkoz
 * Terkla
 * Xakon
 * Hand of Artakha
 * Observos
 * Hydraxon
 * Helryx
 * Axonn
 * Guardna
 * Corzakx
 * A male Versuvian Glider Owl