To See Them

To See Them
With an army at her back, she made her way to the castle

under thundering weather that only accompanied the marching of her armies,

and under a banner so pale that it represented none,

she came to pull back the bolt of her rifle, and deliver it's parcel:

a bouquet of projectiles, given to the current ruler, as she pleased.

Little did she know that she'd merely be replacing a despot for another iron thumb.

She kicked down the door, her armour glistening against the storming sky,

and heard the wooden creak physically send shivers down her allies' spines:

"Fear not, my friends," she said, reassuring, and continued onward to their doom,

"No matter the horror that awaits in these darkened halls, we will not lie

on the ground, muddied, in vein." Raising her hand, her minions separated their lines

and thus spread about the place, searching chamber to chamber, room to room.

Their only illumination being the lightning above, the soldiers succumbed to the dark

fearing the enemy, the Demon, at every twist and turn. No mask powers could assist

them here, not even the one the Hero had worn: a mask of strength, needed direly:

she wasn't the strongest, of both body and will, though her success didn't seem stark,

at least, not to her. In these blackened halls, with shadows creeping, nothing was amiss,

and her previous victory - the army she had created - boosted her confidence, entirely.

Her confidence malformed into pride,

she could no longer hide

from the beast that waited, like an ever-present tide.

"Show your self, villain!" the Toa exclaimed, waving her weapon skyward

"You are no great being of ours: reveal yourself, so that I may prove it!"

And thus, as if by magic, the draped figure fell from the dark, which formed him.

A grimace was likely hidden only by his mask, a smile as sharp as his sword

a weapon formed from shadows themselves, with a dark flame with which no chamber lit

up, as fire usually would. And without word, he charged, aiming for the hero's weak limb.

Suddenly, he struck! The dagger she carried slipped from her hand,

and clambered on the marble floor of the chamber. In the heat of it, she let loose

on the package she had stowed in her rifle, with round after round thundering

alongside the weather outside, which echoed in her ear. With no front unmanned,

her soldiers began to attack the beast themselves, to no effect, no armed abuse

was felt by the demon. And in that moment, he struck again, not a soul lingering

to savour the defeat: save for, of course, the hero, who slid across the floor

and regained her balance, unloading plasma shot after plasma shot into the formless beast

with hopes of finishing the fight. But without her unified army, she felt hopeless

in that moment. Her despair lead to a longing for the old days, when she could soar

across the sky, with the birds which were then her kin. "At least,

either with death or dishonour, this will be the end. The end of this mess.",

she thought. A thought that was read.

"So then, you'd rather be dead?"

"Then come forth, so that I may take your head!"

And in that moment, the Toa's rifle was let off again, firing a blinding and deafening barrage

of shots, shell after shell falling to the floor, rolling against her feet. The beast saw

now that his form was imperfect, with several holes - which refused to reform - being cast

in his chest. Staggering back, with the Hero walking forward, he began to realise the mirage

that was his invincibility. He knew now that the only invulnerability he had was no more,

as his form had finally been pierced by the correct method. The light prevailed, at long last,

against the dark. As he fell onto his throne and dissipated, the Demon's aura faded

into the room, and with the crack of lightning, was gone. With her heart racing, the Hero

saw now that she had won: and thus sat on the throne where the Impostor had ruled.

She pondered what to do next: with her greater duty gone, she thought of which had been evaded

by her, in her quest for glory. The Matoran, those she swore to protect, were now zero

in number, at least, of those she brought to battle. She began to think that she were fooled

by the taste of vengeance itself.

''Fooled. By the taste of vengeance itself''.