Broken Worlds

Broken Worlds is a story serial, and the sequel to Dark Realities. The story focuses on the conflict between the inhabitants of Spherus Magna, the remnants of the Dark Empire, and a mysterious, unknown force, set in an alternate universe. The story is written by, , and.

Prologue
Bright sunlight shimmered through the small windows of a large, darkened room. Inside was a large, round table, dust collecting on its battered, old surface as six figures stood around the table, each staring at each other intently. Surrounding them, were a mixture of countless warriors of all shapes, colors, and sizes, all armed to the tooth and looking intently at the six figures gathered around the table.

“We are in a state of immediate crisis,” said the voice belonging to the one known as Freztrak. “The Dark Empire has taken over everything we care for, and soon there will be no hope for any resistance or battle. The Empire’s domination is nearing full circle.”

Another warrior, a battered Ko-Matoran named Ixtil lay back in his creaky, old chair, looking intently at the Skakdi before him. Behind him, his chief lieutenant and second-in-command, Jareroden, stared intently at his leader.

“And what do you recommend we do, warlord? The impeccable odds are against us. I calculate that there is a 94.7% chance that any resistance attempt against the Empire will be crushed instantly.”

“That didn’t stop you from spearheading the efforts to defeat Tetrack and the Gigas Magna Empire,” said Leviathos, almost bitterly. “You knew there were odds back then, and there are odds right now. And now, I solemnly swear the funds and support of the Enforcers of Noctian Reign to the cause of any efforts against these… these... these tyrants and their empire!”

The words sunk deeply into the minds of the gathered warriors, as Leviathos’ words rebounded off the walls of the grand chamber, and echoed off into the spacious corridors.

After a moment, Ixtil spoke up, if a little reluctantly. Jareroden looked on.

“Very well then. I shall band the full fighting power of the Gigas Magna Resistance and the remnants of the Gigas Magna Empire with your own forces to the goal of this alliance: to bring down the threat that is governing our world.”

Cheers rose from the surrounding crowd in approval, and died down when Freztrak raised his lime-green hand into the air to call for silence.

“In response to the joining of Ixtil and Leviathos’ forces, then I, warlord Freztrak of the mighty Skakdi race, commit the full strength of my tribe and people to the cause of this meeting: to destroy the Empire!”

The cheers of the audience roared even louder in response to Freztrak’s speech, and continued to cheer until their cries were overcome by the sound of the Staff of Nui being slammed into the circular, iron table. Instantly, there was silence again.

At the head of the table, a bulky, heavily armored white Zarak rose from his seat, his mere eyes radiating an aura of power and burning determination. When he spoke, not a single soul dared to interrupt him.

“I have been considering my answer carefully, my fellow warriors. The Empire is a powerful threat, and has already ravaged and utterly dominated countless resistances before us. However, I see an opportunity to overthrow the overlords who rule us. An opportunity that bears risks I am more than willing to take. And so, as the acting leader of the remnants of both the Society of Guardians and the Dark Brotherhood, I fledge my resources and power to the fall of the Empire!”

Conqueror then decided to take this moment to reseat himself. Before the crowd of warriors could cheer again in response to his support, another figure rose from the table: this time, a scarred and weathered Toa. He formed a bright sphere of fire in his palm that crackled and burned in violent, yet controlled manner. In an instant, he blasted the fireball into the center of the table, which instantly burnt out the symbol of the Dark Empire that had been carved into it previously.

The Toa snarled in both bitterness and anger.

“The Empire have taken everything that matters to us,” he began.

“I have lost more friends than I could have ever imagined. I have seen entire mega-cities razed to the ground in mere hours, and I have even witnessed the torture and execution of innocents who have not even committed an offense to the Empire’s… ‘Law.’ Well, let them burn. Let them burn a thousand times in the infernos of Karzahni. And now, I swear the full allegiance of the Hand of Mata Nui to the deaths of the three of that dare call themselves our dictators! And we, the bringers of righteous justice, will be the cause of their downfall! And now I say, death to Millennium! Death to the Dark Lord! Death to Eostra! Death to the Empire!”

The crowd roared in approval to Shardak’s great speech.

“Death to the Empire!” they cried back at their five new leaders.

“Death to the Millennium!

“Death to the Dark Lord!”

“Death to Eostra!”

“Death to the Empire!”

Ixtil sighed as he stopped his reminiscing, and stared around the room that was his commanding office. The room sparkled in the same, smooth way Eostra’s fortress had, though it lacked any of the dark and foreboding aura the destroyed stronghold had once wrought. It was a room of very few possessions. Other than the silver-topped, metal desk and chair Ixtil sat on, the chamber possessed a shelf stacked with countless tablets, a stand for which Ixtil’s wartime Plasma Uzi rested on, and a circular symbol carved right above the doorway that lead into Ixtil’s chamber.

Ixtil took a deep breath, as he looked at his few possessions. It had been 6 years since the fall of the Empire, and at least 60 since the resistance had been formed to challenge the Empire’s supremacy. Of course, they were no longer known as the resistance anymore. Nowadays, the went by the name of the Collectives of Light, which the population of Spherus Magna now recognized as the name of the organization that now governed their world since the downfall of the three emperors.

Six years it has been since the day everything changed forever, and six years since the six leaders of the resistance (formerly five prior to Jareroden’s promotion to the ruling council following the Fourth Occupation of Vulcanus) had declared themselves the six equal rulers of the Collectives of Light. Although Ixtil had vouched to go in the direction of a planetary republic, his idea had been ignored, and the resistance had followed the same political direction the Empire had: albeit; minus the totalitarian control over the planet, brutal rule, and public execution.

However, the fall of the Empire was in no way a ‘happily ever after’ ending, oh no, far from it. Although they had defeated the Empire, the Collectives had faced their own stack of troubles that had pushed them to their limits. Indeed, times had deeply changed the world of Spherus Magna.

The fall of the Empire has brought a time of much slow and painful rebuilding, turmoil, and poverty, as entire cities try to use their limited resources to restore their devastated homes. As the crippled world had slowly recovered from its wounds from the war, the six rulers of the Collectives had become divided during Spherus Magna’s most desperate hour.

Jareroden had departed with a small quarter of the Collective’s army into the unclaimed, dangerous, and unknown territories of Spherus Magna in a campaign to hunt down and wipe out the remnants of the Dark Empire, whose surviving members had split off to form numerous splinter factions and kingdoms of their own.

Shardak was now caught up with attending to the homeless and discarded citizens of Spherus Magna in an effort to rehabilitate them, and establish new cities and villages for them. It was a draining task, but it was one that needed to be done.

Freztrak was now trying to discipline and control his own kind, the Skakdi, following the wake of their involvement with the invasion of [Atero and their allegiance with the Dark Empire. And finally, Leviathos and Conqueror were now attempting to re-establish the planet's crashed economy following the fall of the Empire. Though brutal and monstrous, the Empire had actually managed to establish a strong, stable, and secure society, though when the Great War had about its collapse, the power vacuum left behind had sent the worldwide economy into utter anarchy.

This now left only Ixtil to remain in active command of the government, leaving it weak, fragile and exposed to anything powerful enough to shake its fist at the Collectives. Ixtil’s trail of thought was abruptly cut off by the sound of a light knocking coming from his door.

Clearing his throat, Ixtil pressed a button on his shining desk, and spoke through a well-tuned speaker.

“You have clearance to enter. Please proceed.”

The door immediately swung open, and out came the crimson and orange form of Toa Moliki, his scarred armor gleaming faintly in the brightness of the room. The veteran Toa strode straight up to Ixtil’s table and spoke in a sharp, yet slightly tired tone. The Toa of Fire had been assigned to be the Ko-Matoran’s personal bodyguard.

“Sir, it’s time to visit Fairon.”

Ixtil shuddered slightly at the mentioning of the name. Since the formation of the Collectives, Toa Fairon had slowly descended into a state of utter and pure madness due to the mysterious knowledge the three ex-emperors of Spherus Magna had claimed was locked up in his head. The knowledge that Ixtil had spent the last several months, or possibly even years, trying to pry out of his head.

Sessions with the maddened Toa were long and wearisome. Psychologists of all kinds had attempted to help Fairon, though all had failed to cure him of his insanity. Somehow, Ixtil had thought he could help his old war comrade, though that didn’t mean he had to enjoy the sessions spent trying to help him. Fairon’s illogical and random babblings seemed to slowly nibble away at his patience.

With a heavy sigh, Ixtil removed himself from his chair, and walked forwards with Moliki by side to confront the mind of Fairon once again. And Ixtil could only pray in his mind that should he ever be able to succeed in learning what the Toa of Light had shoved in the back of his mind, that he could protect this broken world from whatever threat was posed to it.

Chapter 1
"Sir, you're needed immediately." the battered Po-Matoran said to his superior. The tall Toa of Psionics whom he was addressing lifted his head to regard the Matoran, as well as the massive Zyglak following him.

The Matoran's body was a hideous sight- during the battle of Bota Magna six years before, the insane Skakdi Vezon had used his kenetic powers to slam him against the wall, twisting his body out of shape. He reminded the Toa of a Rahaga, the former Toa who had mutated in the Matoran Universe by the evil Roodaka.

Jareroden sighed wearily, and the Po-Matoran and Zyglak exchanged a meaningful look (At least, the Po-Matoran gave the Zyglak a meaningful look. It was impossible to read the Zyglak's expression). They all knew why. Six years prior, to this day, Jareroden's closest friend, the Toa of Water Galika, had died fighting in the massive Battle of Bota Magna.

At first, there had been little time to mourn. There was so much to attend to following the battle: gaining the allegience of Aqua Magna, which was still mostly under the control of the Empire, eliminating the Imperial warlords who fought against them in several violent insurrections, and rebuilding the planet's shattered economy.

Now, Jareroden taken a division of the Collective's army into the darkest recesses of the planet to overcome the last of the Empire. The Battle of Bota Magna had brought an effective end to the Veiled One Empire, causing the other unified Empires that made up the great Dark Empire to collapse into anarchy, and the various factions began fighting themselves: the Southern Continent was torn apart by warlords from different empire, and the Valley of the Maze continued to this day to be an endless battleground in the Dark Empire War. However, the Empire itself was ruined. The Collectives began to take steps to improve the planet's economy. Jareroden knew his good friend Shardak was now leading the effort.

Then, everything had changed.

A powerful warlord from the Southern Continent, a fanatical member of the Empire of Shadows known as Xaxis had formed an alliance with another warlord who controlled a sizable faction of the Shadow of Ages known as Kulant. They began striking the newly formed Collectives from all sides, retaking Vulcanus in a massive battle that raged for over a week.

At the same time, a second division of their army had struck the White Quartz Mountains, retaking many of the fortresses in the Black Spike mountains. Then they marched on Iconox and placed it under seige, leaving the Collectives cut off from all outside help.

The army had rejoined outside the Great Jungle, readying to take on the Collective's new fortress on Bota Magna. However, they recieved the message after two skirmishes in the Great Jungle- the Valley of the Maze had been taken by another warlord. The army scattered, ambitious generals longing to seize control of the "New Dark Empire" Xaxis and Kulant had created. It was rumored Kulant himself killed Xaxis in the retreat. After the army scattered and word of Xaxis' death spread to Vulcanus, Iconox, and the White Quartz Mountains, the captured cities revolted, and the small occupation forces left behind were easily overwhelmed.

Although the rebellion had been defeated, the attacks had scared the Collectives, who had been easily defeated and allowed Xaxis and Kulant to win three victories against the Collectives so easily, and had redoubled their military strength. Jareroden had gathered an elite team of warriors and ventured into the unexplored territories still ruled by the Empire, in a campaign to wipe out the remaining Imperial resistance forces.

"What is it?" Jareroden asked. The Po-Matoran grimaced.

"Our advance forces report a detachment of about sixty Corpsians about a mile away."

"Corpsians?" asked Jareroden, immediately on alert. Everyone had believed that the malevolent killers had vanished into the Confusion Dimension along with Eostra after the Battle of Bota Magna. The last army of Veiled Ones had come horribly close to destroying the resistance's armies at Creep Canyon. If even sixty of them had escaped destruction or imprisonment...

"Rally the troops. Immediately." ordered Jareroden. "The war isn't over yet. If the Veiled Ones have returned, then the war could go against us very easily. We-"

Further conversation was interrupted by the clash of weapons, and screams of agony. A tall Toa entered the chamber, his eyes panicked and his armor pitted and scarred. Jareroden recognized him as Eeyavin, a Toa of Rahi Control who had fought alongside Toa Stradax during Xaxis' Campaign.

"The Veiled Ones! They're attacking!" Eeyavin screamed. Jareroden realized that Eeyavin had absolutlely no experience fighting these merciless beings. He'd been in hiding during the Battle of Bota Magna, and after the war turned in favor of the Collectives he'd joined their militia. Xaxis had had no support from Veiled Ones whatsoever, and thus had no idea what to expect.

There was no time for any more communications. Jareroden grabbed his weapon and charged into a full scale battle, reminiscent of the massive clashes in the Great Jungle and Bota Magna. Jareroden could tell with one look that these were not Copies of Corpse, the Veiled One's shock troopers. These were Aspects and Furies, some of the most elite members of the Corpsian's hierarchy. There seemed to be around ten of the attackers, but Jareroden knew from bitter experience that even one of these ghoulish soldiers could easily kill at least five of his team before being subdued.

Already two beings, a Zyglak guard and a Glatorian soldier, were lying dead, the first's throat slit and the second stabbed through the chest.

No. Not this... Thought Jareroden. He could hardly believe that one moment they were discussing a possible Veiled One threat, the next, it was actually happening. His glowing weapon arced through the air, and for a moment Jareroden saw the Veiled One's pale face and eyes, which seemed to burn with a feverish intensity, before he beheaded it. The Veiled One collapsed limply on the ground, and the Toa of Psionics lept over the corpse, slashing wildly at a second Corpsian.

The Veiled One whipped around, and Jareroden winced as the shredsteel dagger tore through his armored shoulder. The cold pain lanced through him, allowing the Veiled One to strike him again. Jareroden slashed upward, striking the Veiled One over and over with his gleaming blade. The Corpsian went down.

Jareroden realized suddenly that the Veiled Ones were pulling back, retreating. Eeyavin and a Toa known as Beta were holding their own against a single Aspect near the entrance to the tents. The remaining six Veiled Ones were pulling away from the battlefield, their scythes bristling like spikes on some massive Rahi. Jareroden slashed a Veiled One to the ground, then charged forward at the enemy, followed by the Zyglak who had followed the Po-Matoran scout.

Suddenly Jareroden was flung to the ground. The Toa was momentarily stunned, then, as he recovered, he realized exactly how unlikely it was he'd make it out alive.

He was surrounded by two more Corpsians. And these were neither Aspects, Furies, or Copies.

They were Limiters of Corpse, the ultimate Veiled One soldiers. Their cold, dead eyes regarded Jareroden impassively, and the long spears they carried gleamed in the twilight. Their armor was adorned with an insignia that Jareroden had never seen before.

If they're not members of the Dark Empire or a warlord, who controls them? Jareroden wondered, confused.

Then he saw it. The reason the Veiled Ones were retreating.

Two beings, a taller Toa and a small Matoran, were standing in the midst of the Limiters, their eyes tired yet defiant. Both were heavily guarded.

Speewaa and Onika. Thought Jareroden grimly. The two beings he'd been tasked with finding and protecting. Two soldiers who had vanished during the war. How had these Veiled Ones found them?

Then he found his answer. A smaller figure, slender and silver armored, was walking toward him, her eyes cold and a sardonic smile painted on her face.

"Nightshade." he gasped. "No. It can't be. You died...you died during the Valley of the Maze battles six years ago."

She smiled coldly. "I have a talent for...disappearing temporarily."

"What do you want?" Jareroden asked, now convinced there was no way out of this. He'd only seen this Veiled One female once before, during the Valley of the Maze battles six months after the Battle of Bota Magna, but he knew from his friend Shardak that she was pure evil, a liar and a murderer. She'd have no qualms about allowing her Limiters to kill him- or do it personally.

"Nothing you can give." said the Veiled One. She was toying with him, trying to make him lose focus. As much as he wanted to attack her and demand why she was holding Speewaa and Onika prisoner, but he couldn't lose focus now, not when the lives of his team could be at stake.

"Then why am I still alive?" Jareroden asked. He knew that she wanted something, or he'd be dead by now.

"I said there was nothing you can give me." replied Nightshade. "But there is something I want you to do. if you don't comply, I'll simply kill you, and force Beta or Eeyavin to go instead."

Jareroden knew she wasn't joking. She'd seemed to have conjured a Midak Skyblaster from nowhere and was pointing it at Eeyavin, who was standing behind them, eyes wide with fear. Two Limiters stood beside him their spears pointed at the Toa.

Jareroden sighed, now knowing that his last hope-to kill or disable Nightshade and escape- was lost.If he even took a step toward her, he'd either be shot in the face or transfixed by a Corpsian's spear.

"Take this message to Shardak." said Nightshade. Her bored, snooty expression did not change. "Tell him that I will exchange these two captives if he gives himself up, as well as the...artifact he stole from me during the First Valley of the Maze battle."

Jareroden felt a sinking feeling deep within him. "You mean the Cintimany Stone?"

Six months after the Battle of Bota Magna, the resistance had been forced to confront two groups of warlords, one of them led by Nightshade. She'd used the Cintimany Stone to devastating effect, shattering Millennium's fortress and crushing his soldiers beneath hundreds of tons of rubble. Soon after, another warlord seized control of the Valley, and Nightshade and her group fled. In the resulting skirmish Shardak had stolen the Cintimany Stone from Nightshade, but was unable to finish her off.

"Yes." said Nightshade. "I will exchange Speewaa for the stone, and Onika for Shardak."

"I was told by the Collectives to return Onika and Speewaa to Bota Magna." said Jareroden. "Stand down, or the Collectives will declare war on your group and wipe them out."

Nightshade laughed. "You have no idea what would happen if you even tried. We is far more powerful then any of the Collectives. We are returning to plague existance once again."

Jareroden felt his blood run cold. Nightshade had quoted the words that Millennium had spoken during the Emperors' trial, before final imprisonment in the Confusion Dimension.

"You serve...the darkness...then?" asked Jareroden.

"I serve no one. Run along now, little Toa. Take the news of Onika and Speewaa's capture to the Collectives. In five days, if Shardak does not respond to this message, or you do not bring me the stone, I will kill them both. Personally."

Her tone of voice left Jareroden no doubt that she was completely capable of carrying out the threat.

Shardak can't come... thought Jareroden. ''He's too busy with his own tasks in Tajun, as well as trying to locate Blast, the friend who had mysteriously vanished during the hight of the Dark Empire War. And the Stone's power, if Nightshade gets her hands on it--''

"If he can't come, then they'll die." said Nightshade, causually examining her silvery armored hand. "I assure you I will enjoy torturing them."

She snapped her fingers, and the Limiters seemed to melt into the shadows. Nightshade gave him a final grin of triumph, then seemed to simply dissapear. But Jareroden was still staring at the place where Onika and Speewaa had been standing a moment ago, and as he turned to Eeyavin and Beta, his eyes haunted.

The Dark Empire has Onika and Speewaa.

Chapter 2
This chapter was written by Jareroden97, Chicken Bond, and Varkanax39.

The being known as Shardak stood at the top of one of Tajun's highest towers, his hands folded behind his back. Sunlight reflected on his gold and black armor as he looked over the sprawling city. It was an exceptionally cold morning, and Shardak's breath could be clearly seen in the misty air.

Where can I begin with this place?

Several months ago, Shardak had arrived in Tajun to oversee its reconstruction. Buildings had been leveled, hundreds of streets had been refurbished, and filth was being cleaned away. Even at that, they had hardly even begun. Tajun was much bigger than it had been 106 years ago, and had once been the hub of criminal activity for the last 80 years, though progress was still being made.

And they also were forced to deal with the numerous gangs that still controlled a large portion of the city. Blood Vines, Blue Shadows, and an assortment of other devious groups ravaged the filth-ridden streets. And they were no less deadly than they had been before the fall of the Empire. Although the Collectives had had some success in apprehending some of the more dangerous criminals with the aid of a Lepidian bounty hunter named Raduke, several of the big-time mercenaries had yet to be caught.

A weary sigh escaped his lips. He had hardly slept for the past three weeks, the hungry and homeless had been crowded on his doorstep, waiting to be housed. He had attempted to help them, but since there was thousands of the homeless, it had become increasingly difficult to help even a few of them.

And Tajun was only one of the many cities that dotted the planet of Sperus Magna.

Cities such as Iconox, New Tesara, and Vulcanus still needed much repair. Other places such as the Valley of the Maze and numerous outposts within Bota Magna, the former kingdoms of Millennium and Eostra Nihilitian respectively, still needed to be purged of an Imperial presence. Six years it had been since the newly-formed Collectives had said they'd restore and repair the world, and six years later, their efforts were already under massive strain.

Shardak's eyes suddenly opened. He knew that worrying would not get him anywhere. He had to act. He turned his back to the sun, and walked down the long flight of stairs, his feet making barely a sound on the rough stone.

Suddenly, the stairs ended, and Shardak found himself in a ruined courtyard. Stones were crumbling, the streets were lined with cracks, glass windows were broken, and the once magnificent statues of great Agori and Glatorian were nothing more than rubble. Shardak continued his steady pace down the battered road until he reached his destination: a half crumbling institution on the left-hand side of the street. Passing through the doors in an almost graceful manner, Shardak was confronted by waves of several beings. The Toa sighed. In front of him was a small gathering of battle-scarred Toa, limping Matoran and Agori, angry-looking Skakdi, and a variety of many more creatures and warriors. All of which were screaming numerous demands and requests right in the Toa's face.

Moving in rhythm with the crowd's advance, Shardak effortlessly pushed his way through the crowd and ignored their cries. He pushed his way through the shouting crowd with firm, yet gentle pushes, until he made his way behind a oak-colored wooden desk. Seating himself, Shardak waited several seconds before raising his hand into the air for a call for silence.

Almost immediately, the mob of people went quiet. Clearing his throat, Shardak rose to face to the clutter of beings, his mere stare sending chills down their spine. Finally, he opened his mouth, and spoke.

"I... understand your concern for your welfare. And I promise you, I am here to try my hardest to solve —at best— some of those problems. This facility will serve as your refuge for until proper residence can be established for you nearby. If not in Tajun, then in some other city. Please proceed into the next room. My allies have several stands that will give you supplies and other rations for your stay in this institution. I will not accompany you further, as I have important paperwork to do. Please proceed."

In an instant, two double-sided doors opened, and the large, noisy crowd passed through to collect their supplies from the counters manned by several Collective agents. Shardak remained seated behind his desk, and pulled out a blank stone tablet. Retrieving the appropriate writing utensils from his desk's drawer, Shardak began his work. He needed to report the progress with Tajun to Conqueror, and inform him of the costs and funds that were required to proceed. He had only written about one sentence of his report before a crimson and black figure stood in front of his table. Shardak didn't bother to look up at him.

"If you're looking for rations, please proceed into the next-"

The figure shrugged. "I'm not here for rations, Shardak."

Shardak still didn't look up. "Looking for residence, is that it? I'm afraid that independant residence for you refugees has not been established in this section in Tajun."

Shardak could hear the figure before him growling, obviously growing impatient.

"I'm not here for my benefit," he began in a deathly cold voice. "I'm here for yours."

Slowly, Shardak raised his head, and stared deep into the strange, mad eyes that lay beneath the owner's crimson Kanohi Huna.

"Shadowplayer," Shardark whispered under his breath in shock. Shadowplayer only stared back into the Toa's lime-green eyes. The ex-Dark Hunter had been a figure whispered in legend in the alleyways of Tajun, a unstoppable force of vengeance and power. His reputation almost was as great as that of the legendary Blood Summoner that stalked the streets of this cirt, and the two were rumored to be great rivals. To now be in his presence was something worth fearing.

"W-what do you want with me?" asked Shardak cautiously. Though not fearful of the misguided Toa of Fire, he was certaintly weary of him.

"I... wish to pass on some information to you, little Collective." He obviously didn't know Shardak's name.

The Toa leaned in and stared deep into Shadowplayer's blazing scarlet eyes.

"What is it you wish to tell me? What significance does it hold?"

Shadowplayer chuckled bitterly and leaned back a bit. "chair," he said gruffly.

"What-"

"Chair. Now." Shadowplayer was obviously being very demanding today.

Without even bothering to stand, Shardak snapped his fingers and a wooden chair materialized immediatly by the assassin-for-hire's waist. He look at the Collective leader in surprise and shock. Shardak simply smiled back wearily.

"Matter Conductors," he began with a shrug of his shoulders. "This facility was one of Millennium's private laboratories before Tajun plunged into insanity. We managed to find a couple of devices we named Matter Conductors here, and decided to use them. They have the ability to create certain objects from loose particles floating in the air."

Shadowplayer stayed silent as he took his seat. A dreary moment of silence passed before Shadowplayer spoke again.

"There's word on the streets that a big-time mercenary, nicknamed Lethal, is trying to form a bounty hunter faction. A sort've guild if you will."

"Lethal can do no such thing," replied Shardak bitterly. The infamous Hunters' Brigade leader had gone off the radar after he led the raid on Atero, and not a word of him had been heard since.

"Lethal has neither the influence, military power, nor the funds to form his own mercenary union. Since the fall of the Empire, bounty hunting has been outlawed, and even during the reign of the three emperors, they were sure that all mercenary factions were disbanded or kept in check. Lethal may have been a brilliant and powerful leader once, but now that all existing bounty hunter groups are in tatters, he could not possibly form any kind of organization."

"That's where your wrong," replied Shadowplayer coolly. "He's already reformed at least half of the legendary Bounty Hunters' Guild, restored a majority of the Hunters' Brigade, and absorbed the remnants of the Dark Hunters into his ranks. He's sucking up most of the criminal underworld up into his plans, and only a few groups and hunters, such as myself, remain out of his grasp."

This revelation hit Shardak hard. If what Shadowplayer said was true, then a massive offensive force was now posed against the Collectives. Shardak knew all-out war would be impossible. After all, Spherus Magna was still recovering from the last one, and couldn't afford to fight another one. As these thoughts rushed through Shardak's mind, one question emerged:

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked solemnly.

Shadowplayer sighed. "Because they are stirring trouble for me. They're cutting into my business. And also because... I think our world needs to heal rather than be infected with the disease that Lethal intends to riddle into its heart."

Such noble words were not expected to be pronounced on the hunter's tongue.

"Well then.... what do you plan to do about all this?" asked Shardak. "What do you want me to with Lethal?"

"I want you to hire me," replied Shadowplayer. "You see, I have received an invitation to join his little club, and I want to destroy it from the inside. I will report their strengths and weaknesses to you, and all their plans for Spherus Magna. If I succeed, I expect to be granted permanent protection from my other rivals, and the right to be a legally-permitted assassin. My partner, on the other hand, demands little. He prefers sticking to his illegal ways, though demands a payment equilvalent to 17,000 Widgets in any currency for his services. He has received a similar invitation to join Lethal's group, dislikes it, and has agreed to assist me on my little mission."

"Partner?" asked Shardak curiously. "What partner? Who is he? Where is he?"

At that moment, the main door of the building was kicked wide open, and in strode a figure Shardak had hoped never to encounter in his lifetime. He was a Zeverek mercenary, though his ruthless reputation proceeded him indefinetly. Skorr chuckled lightly.

"Hello there, little Toa lackey," he began with a smile. "We have a lot of business to deal with here."

"It is the city that heralds the end! The End of time, space, and destiny! It is the darkest of lights, the brightest of shadows. It is the abyss of pure anarchy!" Fairon declaimed as he strode around the room that served as his prison.

His ramblings were no more illogical then usual, though Ixtil had begun to wonder if Fairon was operating under some strange logic, or if he'd just completely lost his mind following the final battle against the emperors. Ixtil had been attempting to explain to him the threat had passed, and they were rebuilding Spherus Magna now after the war. But Fairon ignored him, and when he seemed to notice where he was, began rambling once more about the end of days.

"There will be no apocalypse." Ixtil stated clearly. "I calculate that with our current military capacity, the Empire has exactly ninety-"

Fairon interrupted him, green eyes crazed with insanity. "Burning! Burning! So much burning! The black and darkness, and screaming fire! He is coming! Ending! Ending everything! The Apocolypse! So much death! No hope! Reality burns!" he screamed, his body tense, writhing as though he was bound to something.

"What..... form of cataclysm do you refer to?" asked Ixtil cautiously.

"The burning! The burning of everything! So much fire! He will rise! He watches me in my dreams! He watches us all! He gives off an evil aura of darkness!"

Now Ixtil was uneasy. Fairon was on his feet again, and his eyes seemed even more tortured then ever. Ixtil felt sympathy for Fairon. His friend had been locked away for many years due to Eostra discovering that he knew some Imperial secret. Then, soon after he was freed, the Empire had stolen him again from Ixtil and his friends, this time taking his mind.

"Explain..." he said at last.

"Every night! Every night I have bad dreams! I see a face, though its not a face.... it's something alien!" he gasped, falling to his knees and screaming in pain, clawing at his Kanohi.

"Not the Empire, then?" said Ixtil. Perhaps there was a 17.35 % chance that Fairon's ramblings had a grain of truth. Ixtil remembered Millennium, bound and about to be forever exiled to the Confusion Dimension, staring defiantly at his captors and stating that something darker was playing with the fate of Spherus Magna.

"The Empire?" asked Fairon, sounding for once like himself again. Then he screamed. "No! Out of the bottomless pit of terror the creature rises! His face is horrific, and he speaks in thousands of voices! He whispers in my head, tearing through reality! The cataclysm! The apocalypse! Reality burns!"

The last words were shouted at such volume that Ixtil was sure everyone in the fortress had heard, even through the soundproof cell.

"What-" he began, then his commlink buzzed. Ixtil had issued these to all of the resistance fighters during the rebellion, and saw no reason to stop using them during the resurgence of the Empire and their latest missions. Annoyed, he turned to Fairon. "Hold on. This won't take long."

He stepped outside the cell. "Yes?" he said.

"Ixtil, this is Jareroden." the Collective commander sounded tense. "We've encountered some old friends..."

Jareroden felt tense as he and the remains of his squadron halted at the base of the ridge.

During the height of the Dark Empire's power, it had been known as the Empire's Fist. And it was an apt name. The massive stone formation seemed to reach out of the core of Spherus Magna itself, looming over them all and shaking its fist down upon them.

He'd wondered if Nightshade had picked this spot for a meeting deliberately to taunt him.

After Nightshade and the Limiters had gone, Jareroden had used his commlink to call Shardak. The Toa of Light had been unable to answer, so he'd called Ixtil. The Ko-Matoran had allowed him acess to the Government Vaults, where the Cintimany Stone was kept. Other items of power were held there, such as the Kanohi Ignika, Eostra's Scepter, and the shattered remains of Millennium's axe.

Then Nightshade had called him, demanding he meet her at the Empire's Fist tonight if he wished to save Speewaa. He'd protested, saying he still had five days, but she'd said if he wanted to let Speewaa die he didn't have to show up.

At least I still have time for Shardak. Jareroden thought. ''Nightshade's no fool. She knows Shardak could never reach the Great Jungle from Tajun in two days.''

Even though the fortress on Bota Magna was relatively near the Empire's Fist, Jareroden had been forcing the squadron to walk all day.

Still, while his thoughts wandered, he couldn't seem to focus on anything, other then the fact Nightshade still hadn't shown up. It's psychological warfare. thought Jareroden. She's playing on your nerves, trying to make you wonder if this is all a bluff or if she plans to kill us all.

He took a few moments to examine the remains of his team. Beta, Toa of Earth, weapons at the ready. Zercks, his shadowy armor gleaming in the half-light. Eeyavin, his body tense and ready despite his wounds in the recent battle, Ra, looking distracted and rather worried, Elfor, holding twin daggers, the Gatekeeper, a mysterious figure whose expression was unreadable, as always, and Nalek, a veteran resistance fighter who had led a division during the First Battle in the Wastelands and fought during the Battle of Bota Magna.

"Where are they?" growled the Gatekeeper at last. "If they don't show up soon, I'm going to hunt them down and kill them all."

Jareroden was about to reply, when he saw a massive shape materialize out of the shadows. His expression was contemptuous and arrogant, and his armor gleamed a dark, crimson red.

And Jareroden recognized him. This Makuta had not fought during the war, but the resistance had lost many warriors to him if they ever blundered into him. Many Imperial soldiers that had also gone missing during the war were said to have been slain by this being He'd vanished before the clash in the Black Spike Mountains, however.

"Malok." said Jareroden, as he and Zercks walked up to the being, hoping his voice sounded tense and cold. But it was impossible. Any being that know the reputation of this Makuta would tremble in fear.

"I am glad my reputation precedes me, little Toa." grinned the Makuta, then drew his massive,crimson scimitar and slashed Zercks to the ground. As he lay, wounded, on the ground, Malok closed in on Jareroden.

"You're next." he snarled.

Chapter 3
Jareroden propelled himself into the air, right as Malok's blade slammed into the patch of ground where he had stood less than a second before.

He landed feet-first on the ground behind Malok, an dug his blade into the Makuta's thick back armor.

In a thrice, Malok had swung around, and had his crimson red eyes set on Jareroden. His voice dripped with contempt. "Hmm. Toa Jareroden. I did not expect you to come, Seeing as you are always secluded to your cabin crying over your dead girlfriend."

A growl escaped Jareroden's mouth, but he did not say anything. Gotta keep him distracted.

He saw Ra sneaking up behind Malok's hulking frame, and knew he had to keep Malok focused on him.

Jareroden groaned. This is gonna be a long night.

Malok gripped his large sword. "Make your move, Toa."

A thin smile creased Jareroden's lips. "I don't think so. RA! NOW!!"

Malok's eyes had become merely slits. "What are you playing at, To-AUGH!"

A scream of pain rushed from Malok as Ra dug his Sunlight Staff into Malok's back, and as a blasted him with light. With a roar of defiance, Malok flung Ra to the ground with an audible thud.

Beta charged at Malok, his blade raised. As he neared the gigantic being, he suddenly spun to face Beta, and whipped him away with one sweep of his hand. Undeturred, the Toa of Earth leapt to his feet, as Nalek and Jareroden hammered at Malok keeping him permanently on defense.

Elfor rushd Malok, flinging one of his daggers into the back of Malok's leg. A thin trail of Antidermis began to leak from the wound.

Malok roared in anger. "One person trying to kill me at a time, please!"

The Makuta vanished from in front of Jareroden and Nalek, and reappeared several yards away locked in combat with Eeyavin.

Chapter unfinished

Trivia

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