Besieged

Besieged is a short story serial written by BobTheDoctor27. It depicts an unknown alternate universe in which the Toa Metru contracted a mysterious, zombie-infection around the events of the Great Cataclysm.

Prologue
The crooked, gloomy sight of Destral was not a pleasant one, to say the least.

Hanging just off the very edge of most Matoran maps, the island resembled little more than a speck of dirt floating in a sinister, turbulent ocean. There was no wind to trouble the dust that had settled on the battered chunk of rock over the ages. In fact, there was very little noise at all. It appeared untouched by civilization to the naked eye: just another dark, frosty, clump of stone protruding from the dark waters of the Matoran Universe. It existed in perpetual dusk.

It truly was a forgotten world, one that had been neglected and ignored by passing vessels for thousands upon thousands of decades. If a particularly adventurous – or downright suicidal – traveler were to make for the shore, then they would feel the temperature even drop. They would find that repulsive shades of sickening grey were the only natural feature of the warped landmass. The jagged rocks that protruded from the craggy, barren coastline would deter them from laying anchor. And if that wasn’t enough to keep travelers out, the air crackled with the stench of sulphur and unwashed Rahkshi.

But, to some of the Matoran Universe’s more hardy residents, this place was home.

Makuta Icarax glared at the night sky from the rugged, stony beach. He could feel the loose shingle crunching under his clawed feet as he grew closer to the center of the inland bay. Not for the first time in its history, the island was plunged into total darkness. Usually, the night was illuminated by the Twin Moons. But a thick mist had obscured the skyline of Destral and it was impossible to tell what had happened. The disappearance of the Twin Moons – and their accursed daytime counterparts – would be a sure sign that Makuta Teridax, his honorable and trusted commander, had succeeded in the first of many steps in his Grand Scheme.

For thousands of years he had been loyal to the Brotherhood. Maybe times had his faith been tested in the past. But tonight represented a new test entirely. The Makuta had united under Teridax’s direction and declared an open act of war upon Mata Nui. Things could have gone badly, and there was still time for things to get worse. They did not know for sure if Metru Nui had been successfully destabilized by their leader.

But, then again, had they failed in their mission then there would be no island left to stand upon. The ghastly stain upon the Matoran Universe that was Destral would be removed by a single electrical impulse in the Great Spirit’s head. The Makuta would be hunted down and tormented – burnt. There would be nothing left to mark their passing aside from dying screams, defective Rahi and a chilling sensation that lingered in the air.

But, seeing as their island had not been razed in the two days since the tremor that had shook the entire world, it was quite evident that Teridax had won his way.

Standing on the edge of the bay, gazing up hopefully into the night sky, stood a slender, female figure. Yes, the silhouette was unmistakably that of Gorast, his last remaining sister Makuta. The brutal, self-proclaimed Mistress of the Acid Falls was hard to make out in the darkness; but, then again, he supposed that was the point.

''You only see Makuta Gorast when it’s too late. ''

“Where is Antroz?” grunted Icarax, the crooked lips on his Great Mask of Scavenging barely moving.

The female Makuta shot him a hateful glance. “You would be wise to address me with respect, Icarax,” she bristled. “If you manage that then you will go far when I become Teridax’s second-in-command – or at least until your shade of crimson becomes unfashionable and I have to remove your head from my wall.”

The red-armored Makuta cursed inwardly and turned his attention away. It was no use starting an argument. Gorast was one of the most merciless warriors he knew and this was no time for conflicts within the Brotherhood. It was a shame she wasted herself worshipping such a dusty old schemer as Teridax. The way Icarax was saw things, their leader was losing touch. This was a time for swift, tactical action. That was how wars were won. They needed a strong leader in this time of desolation, someone who could band the Makuta together and give them actual direction. Perhaps if Teridax cared to share even a glimpse of his grand scheme with the others then Icarax could be swayed. But not so much as a whisper had left the lips of the Makuta of Metru Nui, which made him trust his leader even less.

Several hostile minutes passed without a single utterance between the two rival Makuta. At first, there was nothing in the inky night sky. But then, from an impossible distance, Icarax caught sight of a silver speck amongst the dark, all-encompassing backdrop. That single atom of life was all that the scene contained. It was just a speck far off into the unknown, a moving spot.

As the dot drew closer, its features became more and more distinct. A magnificent pair of wings pierced the air. It appeared to be a Rahi of some kind. Perhaps it was a messenger. The creature was too large to be an Ice Bat. It could be Gukko Bird but the flight pattern was different. A Nivawk Hawk. As the creature drew closer, Icarax felt a deep, internal surge of pride. It was indeed Teridax’s pet, and it bore quite the message.

In so a graceful a manner that Icarax had to stifle a laugh, the Rahi landed on the shore, fluttered its wings, then lowered itself so as to release its mount: a warped and twisted Turaga of Fire.

The shriveled, haggard figure was, of course, Makuta Teridax. He had shapeshifted himself into the form of Turaga Dume in order to infiltrate Metru Nui and put into effect the first stage of his plan. But, seeing as he was still in this decrepit shape and his brow was weighed down with rage that surpassed even that of a Turaga of Fire, Icarax knew better than to speak out.

Instantly, Gorast was on her knees, bowing down to Teridax but, given his present state, the scene just looked awkward and undignified. A Makuta bowing to a Turaga. But, given the look on the figure’s Kanohi Kiril, Icarax knew there was no arguing. Teridax was in no mood for disobedience.

“Makuta Teridax?” he muttered, in all true seriousness.

“Indeed, Icarax,” muttered the crippled Makuta in a broken voice that carried none of his usual grandeur. “It is I.”

“What of Metru Nui?”

The Makuta of Metru Nui glared at him from behind his Kanohi Kraahkan.

“The Great Spirit... sleeps,” muttered Teridax, cryptic as ever.

“And the Matoran of Metru Nui?”

“They rest in peace.”

Icarax exchanged a concerned look with Gorast as their pint-sized leader began hobbling along at their ankles, weighed back and fatigued, with the same heavy bones as a real Turaga.

“They’re dead?”

“I ran into an unforeseen anomaly,” snarled the Kraahkan-wearing Makuta. It was near-on impossible to take him seriously in this decrepit state.

“Toa?” If Makuta were capable of having hairs on the back of their necks, Gorast’s would be standing on edge. Her clawed hands balled into sinister fists.

Teridax hesitated for a moment, then turned to address the female Makuta, his knuckles white on his makeshift Firestaff.

“Something more than that.”

It was in that moment that Icarax saw something that, for the first time in his entire life, chilled him right down to the core of his very being.

''There was fear in Teridax’s eyes. ''

That single sentence was a bizarre and outlandish notion to say the least, for it was simply not in Teridax’s nature to get caught up in the emotional brawl that he subjugated his minions to. He was simply above it all. His place was atop a golden throat, ever-present and all-seeing, but untouchable. He was simply beyond it. For every plan he revealed, he had at least twenty-seven others swirling around, ready to enter the playing field.

But something had quite clearly happened in Metru Nui, and if it had startled their leader then what hope did any of the Makuta have?

“Leader,” grunted Icarax, clearing his throat and putting aside his critical stance in favor of a more serious one. “Did you succeed or not?”

“The Great Spirit has been stalled,” murmured Teridax, his usual dramatic tone absent. “Re-awakening him will be an arduous task in years to come. But Metru Nui...”

He trailed off, an unfamiliar watery glimmer in their heartless leader’s eyes.

“What exactly did these Toa do, leader?” snarled Gorast. “I shall personally lead an army of Rahkshi and raze their island!”

“You will do no such thing!” snapped the Makuta in the body of a Turaga before recomposing himself. “Metru Nui is to be quarantined. See to it that the Sea Gates are closed.”

Now this was a strange demand. The instance it left the lips of Teridax’s Kanohi Kraahkan, it rung false in Icarax’s audio receptors. He was under the impression that invading Metru Nui was a top priority, and had been for centuries. It was their gold mine. What could possibly possess their leader to block it off and further impede their seizure of power?

“My liege,” murmured the Makuta of Karzahni with uncharacteristic concern. “Exactly what did the Toa do to you?”

“It’s not what they did to me...” Makuta Teridax let out a deep, hearty sigh that came from the very core of his essence.

“It’s what they did to the Matoran.”

Chapter 1
To be written.

Chapter 2
To be written.

Chapter 3
To be written.

Chapter 4
To be written.

Characters

 * Toa Metru
 * Vakama
 * Nokama
 * Whenua
 * Onewa
 * Matau
 * Nuju
 * Makuta Teridax
 * Makuta Icarax
 * Makuta Gorast

Trivia

 * Initially, Besieged was planned as an entry to the Custom BIONICLE Wiki: Halloween Writing Contest. However, as it far-exceeded the 8 paragraph limit, it was instead launched as an independent short story, set in an alternate universe.
 * The zombie-like plague that gripped the Toa Metru in the story was inspired both by the Forgotten Warriors of Vorred's story and by the Marvel Zombies comic series.