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This article was written by Kayos94. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
Kyra Nui
Date Set

Break is a story written by User:Kayos94. Break is a working title, and may be subject to change.



What have I done? I... I just did it. So much time, locked away in that cell. I couldn't take it any longer. The lone Po-Matoran had thought to himself. He had just escaped of the worst place he was ever in. He didn't intend to go back.

He knew the Toa would send out a search party. He had no accomplices. No help, where he was. No help, where he is. I've got to leave here, now. I have to get out of Toa lands. Into the wilderness, off the island, to my death, I don't care. Just not back to them.

The lone Matoran set off into the wilderness, to begin his new life.

Chapter I[]

I remember the inmates talking about a place in Onu-Kyra called The Cracked Kanohi. Apparently it's a speakeasy down there. The miners got liquored up too often, so all of Onu-Kyra was declared a dry state. Parts of Ta-Kyra are the same way, but I can't get that far into Toa lands. The lone Matoran knew there was only one route there that would allow him to travel safely through Toa-controlled areas.

Going to have to head through Le-Kyra, right on the border with Ga-Kyra. Swampy areas out there. The section of Le-Kyra and Ga-Kyra's border he spoke of was the infamous Bayou Run. Overrun with Notodiles, it's a dangerous place to go through. The Toa would kill him, though, a fact he knew.

There he was. Standing right on the border of Po-Kyra and Le-Kyra. Using a central route from Po-Kyra directly to Onu-Kyra would have him killed, he was sure of it. There was no going back regardless of his decisions now. Stepping down from the grassy areas into the shallow areas of the swamp, he took one last large breath.

No going back. I can do this. Just have to find a safe place somewhere out here for the night. Can't trust the ground, too many dangerous critters down there. The swamp is a deathwish. Trees are covered in venemous spiders and other problematic bugs. Whole place is just crawling with close to anything with a reputation as a maneater. Nothing's gonna change that and I'm in no more danger than I am going back there and surrendering. Stepping down from the grassy area at the water's edge into the slightly cloudy shallow end of the swamp, he set forth to find shelter. Trudging his way through thick reeds and deeper waters, he was still trying to stick as close to trees as possible. Their roots were closer to the surface than the middle of the river, giving him a better chance against waterbound predators. The Po-Matoran was still at a disadvantage, though, as the murky waters were difficult to see through. He would be able to spot larger and above-water movements, but deeper creatures had their leeway.

As he continued to plod through the thick reeds and mud of the swamp, something didn't seem right. Looking around in all directions, he peered up into the dense treetops and glimpsed a slowly-darkening grey sky above. It was getting late, and the daylight wasn't going to stick around. There wasn't anything up there he was in immediate danger from. The Po-Matoran reached a clearing of sorts in the murky waters. There were trees around the edges and a clear path for him to get through, but the entrance to it was a deterring sight. The masses of half-destroyed pelts and other ripped up scraps of meals once enjoyed by the Notodiles hung from the two largest trees, opposite each other where the clearing opened. Inside the clearing, a small light emitted from a distance. Shelter? Safety? Only one way to find out. Pushing thoughts of danger to the back of his mind, he continued to trek on further into the ugly swamp. It didn't much matter if he made it or not. They were looking for him. Reaching ever closer, submerged root by submerged root, he made it to that little bottleneck opening of the clearing. From there he saw his target: A small, wooden shack built slightly offshore from the riverbank.

Keeping to the sides of the bank, he peered down into the dismal waters his feet were well sunk into. He realized the closer he got to the two tall gatekeeping trees, the deeper the water became. In the clearing ahead of him, the water darkens in the center, clearly getting deeper. The nearer the Matoran got to the mouth of the clearing, the steeper the bank had become. Grabbing hold of the nearby reeds and mangrove roots that infiltrated the swamp's waters below, he began to slowly work his way across and toward the entrance. The light he scouted seemed to grow brighter as he drew nearer, but perhaps it was merely the sky becoming darker as night fell upon the sleepy Le-Kyra swamp. From the corner of his eye, a sizeable wake could be see sending ripples to the water's edge. He felt the insubstantial wave as it reached him and tensed up entirely. Something was here with him, and whatever it is, it dwarfed the Matoran. Using his arms above the surface to pull himself through toward his eventual goal, his lower body remained motionless so as not to make any sudden movements. If there was something in there, it would surely find him. Drawing closer to the attenuated pathway leading to his perceived beacon of survival, he reached one of the two trees and climbed slowly out of the water onto the trunk. From here he made his way around the trunk, high enough that nothing could get at him. Surveying the area he spotted a branch from a nearby tree that pointed further into the middle of the pool. If he was going to stay out of the water and out of danger, this was the path to traverse. Scaling the trunk further, he peered up to see a poisonous Fikou spider meet him immediately.


  • A Po-Matoran