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This article was written by Rando07. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
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| Felony | |
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The Forlorn
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Felony is a story detailing the rise of a criminal empire and its effects on the world.
Story[]
Prologue[]
His senses flared up like wildfire as he entered the dark room. Strands of abandoned cobwebs drifted eerily in the occasional drafts like wraiths. The rotting smell of some poor creature may have pleased him, but being the only one present to enjoy it left the monster displeased. A combination of typical bent-on-revenge and science-experiment-gone-wrong stories paved the way for Hoxuak’s astounding hunger for destruction and mayhem.
Before the establishment of the negation fields he was capable of literally bringing an entire city to its knees. Ever since the fields became commonplace in cities across Chroros Nui, Hoxuak has been forced to adapt and resort to methods other than brute force to accomplish his goals. As a result, he became the leader of one of the most well-known criminal organisations across Chroros Nui, the Black Brawlers.
The rotten and neglected walls of the room were put to shame by Hoxuak’s grotesque features. His face was crimson, the shadows barely clinging on to what appeared to be burn marks on what most would call a face. A collection of small, black tentacles dangled lazily around his mouth. Several spiked tendrils writhed around in the flesh of his torso, some escaping the confines of his body and wrapped themselves around his limbs and licked his armour.
The criminal leader was promised a meeting with two other rivals in his line of work. A guarantee of fulfilled desires and much more was given to him by a now deceased courier. It was not often that Hoxuak would be convinced to venture out from within the confines of his lair deep inside the heart of the Zutalan underworld—a task even he had difficulty accomplishing.
A cold waft of crisp air lazily made its way into Hoxuak’s nasal cavity. A spiked tendril flew like a bullet towards the source of the smell before he even turned to face it. Hoxuak watched his appendage narrowly missed its target. Concealed by a tattered cloak, they edged towards Hoxuak with ghost-like movements.
“Nice to see that you could make it, Hoxuak.” The cloak dropped to the ground as the being spoke, unveiling a toa clad in gleaming white and silver amour. A Volitak housed a pair of worn, damaged and ruthless eyes.
“Csephor,” Hoxuak uttered with a hint of surprise lurking beneath his hoarse words, “only you would be outrageous enough to arrange such a gathering.”
“I see that my reputation precedes me.”
The room fell silent for a brief and uncomfortable moment, the silence as pungent as the stench of the rotting corpse somewhere in the room. “Are we expecting someone else?” inquired Hoxuak impatiently.
As if on cue a charred, black figure dropped to the ground from the rafters above. Hoxuak grunted at the sight, an eerie expression decorated his face—a mixture of a sly grin and the most devious of smirks. The figure quietly groaned moments after the impact; the most forlorn of sounds any living being could make drifted its way into Csephor’s ears. The toa of ice let a slight shudder escape from his eyes to the rest of his body.
A sudden crunch ruptured Csephor’s concentration while it only heightened Hoxuak’s. A slender, sinister and sable figure was uncovered by the falling dust as the charred body beneath released one final wretched and painful hiss.
“Not anymore.” Csephor replied after a brief pause, the stone cold tone of his voice betrayed no sign of his earlier discomfort. “Where’d you find that one?” he asked as he tilted his head towards the scorched body beneath her feet.
“I discovered that he followed me here, so I set him alight before you both arrived.” Csephor expected nothing less from the leader of the Coh Clan, famous for their unrivalled brutality and well-documented feud with the Order of Mata Nui. Her voice was both calm and threatening like the sea in the eye of a storm, a quality also coupled with her savage reputation as a criminal mastermind.
“Do you know why he followed you?” asked Hoxuak with a curious tone.
“Perhaps the arrangement of our little meeting was not the most covert of operations.” Yicho spat and shot Csephor a menacing glare. The toa of ice simply briefly smirked in her direction and rolled his eyes.
“In that case you should become more aware of your surroundings,” Csephor replied with a smug tone. “But I digress. I do sincerely hope that any trouble you faced on your way to this location is quelled by the discussion to come.”
Hoxuak tilted his head and gave Csephor a look. Amidst the horrid mass of red, Csephor assumed that he saw the faintest of puzzled looks, if anything.
“I have a certain business venture in mind that I would like to share with the both of you.”
“I never thought business would be one of your interests, Csephor. You seem more like the criminal type.” Yicho said with disdain in her voice.
“A mixture of the two has given me nothing but profit, Yicho. So I suggest-“
Hoxuak roared as several, almost voracious tendrils reached out from his back, shattering some of the fragile wooden beams around them. Csephor shielded himself from the shower of wood fragments with his arms raised. Hoxuak shot his rival crime lords a disapproving glare with his fiercely unwavering eyes.
“In that case, I suppose we should get down to business.” Csephor uttered with a serious tone as he eyed his potential partners. “What do you two think about the idea of working together?”
“You’re a lunatic.” Yicho’s response came almost instantaneously. “Frankly, I’m insulted that you’d even ask such a thing.”
“Good. I have no intentions of being friends, Yicho. All I ask is that you both hear me out. It’s a fantastic opportunity, one that I’m sure will leave your enemies, excluding myself of course, rotting away in holes whilst the three of us reap the rewards.” the toa of ice looked the coh’lhran straight in the eyes and saw a fire that could engulf cities if given the chance—he needed her on his side. “Or are you too afraid of opportunity?”
Csephor had unleashed the inferno burning in Yicho’s eyes. Within the blink of an eye the coh’lhran had the toa of ice on the ground with a knife at his throat.
“How dare you.” she uttered under her breath as the blade drew nearer to puncturing Csephor’s neck, but all he did was smirk.
“I’ll take it that you’re joining me?” he chuckled sarcastically and brushed the knife aside. Yicho was taken aback by the toa’s confidence, almost reluctantly so. Csephor stood up amidst a small cloud of dust particles that lingered by his knees. “And what about you, Hoxuak?”
“How is this a ‘business venture’, toa?” Hoxuak growled as the tendrils slowly sank to the floor.
“Because we are industrious individuals; professionals in an extremely lucrative market that we have yet to take full advantage of. It’s only right that we take back what was ours to begin with—control.” the sinister tone of his voice was even colder than the ice that he manipulates. Hoxuak tilted his head as the tendrils that covered the floor around him slithered with a spectral grace.
“I’m in.”
Chapter One[]
Fifty years later…
A group of seven new Order of Mata Nui agents rushed through the plain white corridor, pushing their way through a busy stream of other Order members. Their path was highlighted by a bright red line, easily seen beneath the hustle and bustle. The group’s inconsiderate rush was looked down upon by the other members as hordes of disapproving eyes glanced at them. The collective gaze had sucked the energy out of the group of new agents, whose pace had slowed considerably. They continued to follow the red line intently, eyes fixed to their flat guide.
The red line had suddenly stopped and went no further. The new Order agents crashed into each other once they realised—a pileup of eager and incredibly embarrassed recruits. Vluxx, a toa of twilight, was near the bottom of the pile. His vision blurred and senses dazed, Vluxx looked around him and saw nothing but bright lights. Vluxx eventually managed to stand himself up with a grimace. He caught the eye of an Order member in the distance for a short time, an awkward second too long. Vluxx recoiled and attempted to move himself towards the centre of the group.
“Alright, newbies,” called the voice of a toa clad in magnificent red and orange armour. He walked towards them with large strides filled with aplomb. He was tall, much taller than Vluxx in fact. His imposing nature caused the recruits to tremble. “welcome to Ïarghul.”
It was then that Vluxx realised who stood before the, Ekh. A high-ranking member of the Order, one of Helryx’s most trusted Zypveran advisors and the wielder of the white flame stood before them. He stood firmly with his arms behind his back like a typical drill sergeant, judging each individual quickly before spinning around on his heel, an action he must have performed hundreds of times before. He gestured for the recruits to follow him as he walked away towards a parting crowd of other Order members, many of which Vluxx had recognised.
They passed a series of different facilities, most of which were designed specifically for honing the skills of a field operative. Vluxx studied the area as much as he could, eyes darting to and from various points of interest. But there was just too much. It was by far the largest areas he had ever seen, perhaps even larger than his home village of Kno’zaçee by a considerable margin. Vluxx’s eyes widened as they approached the famed Light Room—one of the most advanced pieces of training apparatus ever constructed. Capable of projecting incredibly detailed and complex hardlight structures, the room’s own A.I. was even capable of compartmentalising and adapting to specific individuals based on their ability and needs.
He could sense the anticipation of the other recruits, evident from shared gasps and wide eyes. Despite not being keen to join and train with the Order immediately, the prospect of entering Ïarghul’s Light Room was an experience within itself. All of the recruits’ excitement had distracted them from the crowd of Order members who had come to watch.
The Light Room was much larger than Vluxx had expected, easily the size of a kolhii field or larger. The toa of twilight tried to compose himself with slow, steady breaths. Ekh noticed the other recruits attempting this as well. It was time to begin.
“This facility is here to help you develop the four most important skills you will use as a field operative for this organisation—the four Cs. Combat, concealment, conservation and above all, creativity. We’ll begin with a basic combat aptitude test first so we can see how much time you’ll need to spend in this room.” Ekh’s commanding tone had completely captured their attention once again. The toa of fire flashed a smirk and with the click of his fingers a slim, featureless figure had materialised in front of him. A bright red number nine faded into view on its chest, followed by a faint jeer from the crowd outside of the room.
“Level nine is the second highest basic combat difficulty, a perfect but brutal assessor of your ability, or lack thereof, to fight.” Ekh stated with a slight betrayal of excitement in his eyes.
“Why not level 10?” one of the recruits had asked in a curious and naïve tone.
“Because the level 10 training figure is the only one with a lethality setting.”
Vluxx gulped at the thought of a room with the ability to kill its occupants. Ekh had not even given time for the recruits to digest the thought. Without warning he had set the training figure on the offensive. The recruits scattered as the figure had dissolved the bond that held them together. Vluxx watched as the training figure dashed towards a large steltian. Cheering from the observers grew as the steltian was sent crashing to the ground and knocked out with one of the strongest punches to the chest Vluxx had ever seen.
Two recruits, a toa of psionics and an ywinakim, edged towards the dummy, whose quick and direct approach had suddenly changed to a more reserved tactic. It’s adapting. The realisation had hit him like the figure hit the steltian—he would have to be quick and unpredictable if he were to avoid complete humiliation. The two recruits suddenly lunged towards the training figure who had avoided both opponents. A third recruit, a toa of fire, jumped onto its back, clinging on for dear life. The ywinakim threw a wild punch towards the figure, a frenzied look plastered across his face. The figure ducked and let the recruit on its back take the hit instead, knocking the toa of fire unconscious. The training figure swept the ywinakim off his feet, grabbed him by the leg and launched him towards the toa of psionics.
More jeers and roars erupted from the observing crowd, overjoyed by the training figure take down three opponents in less time than it had taken Vluxx to figure out what had just happened. Before he could even decide what to do the training figure had already engaged him. Instinctively parrying several strikes, Vluxx had lasted much longer than he anticipated. A strong jab suddenly powered through his defences and struck him in the neck. Vluxx staggered back, stunned by the sharp pain emerging from the point of contact.
The training figure was suddenly tackled to the ground before it could capitalise on the opportunity. The only other conscious recruit, a toa of iron, came to Vluxx’s rescue. The toa of iron landed next to Vluxx after moments after he had recovered from the jab. Soon side-by-side, both recruits dropped into defensive stances as the training figure walked towards them.
“Hey, I’m Ughon.” grunted the toa of iron between heavy breaths.
“I’m Vluxx.” replied the toa of twilight with a hoarse croak.
“Heh, nice to meet you.” the toa of iron’s voice trembled as the figure grew nearer, its featureless head tilting to the sound of a raucous crowd. Examining.
Planning.
Both toa had backed up against a wall, helplessly quivering as the training figure made its advance with thundering footsteps. Vluxx and Ughon lashed out at the figure with wild punches and kicks, a desperate attack carried out in futility. The figure quickly evaded the first wave with a sudden swooping kick and without hesitation smashed Ughon’s bulky frame to the ground before he even landed. To toa of iron cried out in pain and writhed across the floor. Vluxx had narrowly avoided a brutal stomp to his chest by rolling away.
The toa of twilight recovered, struggling to climb to his feet. But when he did he was met with an unexpectedly powerful thud to the back of his head. Vluxx groaned as his limp body made contact with the ground. As his vision moved in and out of blackness, an incessant ringing was all he could hear. Then suddenly, nothing.
A dull pain at the back of his head spread to his arms and caused them to shudder when he tried to use them. Vluxx struggled to keep himself up as his arms trembled, but a strong tug raised him to his feet. He saw Ughon beside him with an arm placed firmly on his chest, twinging as a sharp pain beamed from his chest.
“You’re all lucky that wasn’t a real opponent.” Ekh’s strong voice rang in their ears without even a hint of sympathy. The recruits turned back to him, all still trying to recover from the beating that had been inflicted upon them. “Now, let’s have a look at some statistics.”
Ekh turned his head away from the murmuring group of injured and disillusioned recruits to face a hardlight copy of the Steltian. The original’s eyes widened when the figure materialised in front of him. His expression dropped as a bright green number one appeared on the figure’s chest, after which a series of other hardlight replicas of the recruits materialised before them, each with their own set of numbers. A yellow number three appeared on Vluxx’s hardlight counterpart. His eyes wavered slightly and looked across to his fellow recruits to see a collection of drooping expressions and hanging heads.
“You might be thinking that I’m an awful teacher and should never expect my newest students to defeat a level nine opponent right away, but fighting isn’t about landing the first hit or overpowering your opponent.
“It’s about learning to take a hit and use it to your advantage. You won’t last more than a few hits in a fight if all you do is whimper when someone whacks you. You can’t stop pain, but you can choose how to deal with it.”
The recruits all seemed to deeply inhale at the same time, giving Ekh’s words time to sink in. They had all come to a moment of realisation—eyes no longer stained with a forlorn sheath. Ekh raised his head, sensing the uplift in mood.
For the next three hours, the recruits were given their first real experience of the intensive training they were informed about during the application process. They were taught how to recover from a number of compromising situations, as well as how to limit their chances of getting into them. Ekh thought of his newest students with high regard. It was not often that he even mentored new recruits, but it was even rarer for them to be very determined to improve.
He watched as the bulky steltian, Gribrak, learn to use his size and above average endurance. Even with such brute force to utilise, the former steltian trader developed his ability to absorb attacks with little to no consequence and finding the most opportune moment to strike—a skill already acquired from his experience as a trader.
Knilac, the ywinakim, spent much of his time readjusting to life on Chroros Nui. He and several others claimed to be dimensionally displaced beings, freed from a prison world that they couldn’t even pronounce. They had all decided to settle into Chroros Nuian life, although the task was a little more difficult for Knilac. However, he was coping well and picked up on things very quickly.
It seemed as if Tayluu, the toa of psionics, lacked any form of confidence in her abilities. The ability to think quickly came naturally to her and when able to focus, her brutality was astounding. Ekh told her that confidence was her biggest issue, and should it be solved she would be able to channel her innate fighting spirit more often.
As a toa of fire, Ekh first assumed that Beacon would follow the stereotype: hot-headed, confident and stern. But Beacon was a shy and unassuming character, which relieved Ekh to some extent. Beacon had an eclectic set of skills, everything that was expected of a capable fighter. The issue was that he thought far too much about his next move when there was almost no time to. Allowing Beacon to think on his feet was the first step to training an exceptional Order operative.
Ughon and Vluxx both showed promise, lasting much longer than the others when attacked by the training figure. They trusted their instincts more than the other recruits, but lacked the practical knowledge and experience to develop any skills that would help them in a combat situation. Ekh pondered on how to train the two as he observed them spar with low-levelled training figures. Their instincts needed to be sharpened like a blunt sword if they were to turn into effective field agents.
With a slightly inflated ego, Ekh’s pride was betrayed by a slight smirk. Such progress in a few tireless hours had turned a collection of lacklustre recruits into a diverse group of fighters that would one day turn into an efficient team. Ekh snapped his fingers and the training figures vanished, the tired eyes of the recruits focused on their mentor.
“Your assignment for next week is to be able to defeat a level five training figure. You may train in your own and even work together should you wish to do so. I’ll see you then.” Ekh’s voice carried far in the warm and humid air.
“What if we can’t?” piped Tayluu with a shivering eyes and clenched fists.
“Then I’ll be very disappointed.” grunted Ekh as he walked beyond the Light Room’s floor, out of sight beyond a teaming area filled with other Order operatives, all of whom had endured the same rigorous training routine before.
Chapter Two[]
”Do you have eyes on the target?” his communicator buzzed, the volume dial turned down to almost zero.
“Just a trail so far. No visual yet.”
“All right, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Going dark.” Rando whispered silently, completely focused on the task in front of him. The Order had received word of a significant number of military grade weapons being illegally transported across the Voeulan border into Zutal. But the news was not surprising. Criminal activity over the past fifty years had been increasing steadily, almost exponentially a few years ago after the introduction of the negation fields.
A crime wave broke out and law keeping organisations like the Order could only watch as Chroros Nui fell to its knees. The dust eventually settled on a world in desperate need of fixing. The Order of Mata Nui stepped up, much to the distaste of several government officials. But their dwindling spheres of influence meant nothing in a desperate world. The Orders efforts proved to be successful, however, they were short-lived. Crime was on the rise again, at a rate surpassing even the last crime wave.
“I see them. Six armed individuals away from our location, towards a stack of small crates.” a soft voice whispered from behind Rando. He turned to see where his companion was gesturing and saw all six of the criminals that they were supposed to be tracking—all members of the Black Brawler gang. They donned similar sets of black armour, each with a Black Brawler insignia on their shoulder.
“Threat level?” Rando inquired as they made their way towards them, being careful to stay out of sight.
“Current analysis puts the threat level at five, though I am predicting an easy victory.”
“I like your confidence.” Rando whispered in response, gesturing for his companion to take the high ground. She jumped straight to the rafters without delay and landed without a sound. Jumping a height of nearly seven times her size with no aid whatsoever was an easily accomplished feat for the automaton. ATP-001, commonly referred to as Niha, was a complex toa-like robot constructed by the Vortixx on Xia in the Matoran Universe, bought by the Order of Mata Nui after partnering with the Xian manufacturers. She was then stored, along with the other prototypes, on Zypvera shortly after the construction of Ïarghul.
Niha was activated and the Order soon realised her potential as an incredibly efficient operative. She already possessed a wide variety of skills embedded into her programming, but there was only so much programming that could be relied on. The automaton needed experience in the field, and her mission with Rando was the second of many. But it was the first that involved any active combat. Rando, on the other hand, was a very experienced Order agent having been a member since their earliest days on Chroros Nui.
Clad in emerald and black armour, Rando deftly weaved between the stacks of large crates and boxes of the warehouse, edging ever closer to the criminals. Rando’s dark green and black armour blended in well against the shadowed areas of the warehouse. With Niha taking point in the rafters above, nothing could surprise him.
“Is this everything?” one of the criminals asked with a hoarse tone.
“I hope so. Milode won’t be pleased if it isn’t.” another replied with a shudder.
“I sense elevated stress levels and trembling in his voice. Is that fear?” Niha’s voice quietly hummed through the communicator.
“Yes it is.” Rando’s voice buzzed back through Niha’s communicator. Niha had always seen beings experience fear as a result of imminent pain or death, but never by the thought of another being. Perhaps they feared what such a being could do to them—they feared punishment, which also means that they would fear what she and Rando were about to do.
“We should get these things onto the truck, we’ll be late otherwise.” one of them said as he struggled to hoist a large box into his arms.
“So who exactly are we dealing with, Niha?” Niha’s communicator buzzed again.
“Three skakdi, a toa and two caaldurin. All them have swords.” Niha replied, assessing the Black Brawler members below. “Suggested course of action, Rando?”
“Take ‘em out.”
Almost instantaneously Rando could hear the yells of an injured skakdi, shortly followed by the snapping of wooden crates. He leapt out from behind a stack of weapons crates and rolled across the floor behind towards the toa. Before the toa could even react Rando had already stretched out the toa’s arm and forced him to drop the sword. With a hand on the toa’s kanohi, Rando swept him off his feet and thrust his head into the concrete—all before the sword had even hit the ground.
Niha’s photoreceptors caught the sheen of a protosteel blade as it passed in front of her, narrowly missing her face. She righted herself and smashed a weighty metal cylinder into the caaldurin’s chest. They staggered back, dazed, before collapsing on the ground. Niha was horrendously efficient when dispatching her next targets—two of the skakdi. With two powerful kicks they were both out cold, one atop a crate and the other sprawled across the floor. Rando jabbed his opponent’s sword arm and pushed the caaldurin away from him. The caaldurin roared and darted towards Rando with his sword raised high. They brought the blade down like a guillotine, aiming for Rando’s head. Rando caught the caaldurin’s hands and twisted his wrists, then kicked the caaldurin away and grabbed the blade as it fell.
“Where are these weapons headed?” Rando demanded; sword primed on the thug’s neck. Niha watched the engagement with curiosity. She had never witnessed an interrogation before and had never experienced combat outside of Ïarghul’s simulations. Even despite her programming, Niha found the rawness of the world around her particularly surprising. Damp wooden beams cast barely visible shadows in the dim light that came in through the corrugated roof.
Stacks of weapons crates, much taller than she was filled the warehouse, which she estimated to be roughly the size of a kolhii field. Niha’s heads-up display revealed that many of the crates contained a plethora of weapons including firearms, bladed weapons and even a few explosive devices that were fortunately disarmed, among other things. This horde of weapons, while unorganised, was much larger than even the Order’s armoury—one of Zypvera’s greatest collection of armaments.
The ring of metal on concrete caught Niha off guard. She looked over to Rando with widened photoreceptors.
“Any luck with the interrogation?” their communicators droned after a brief silence.
“None, as expected.” Rando muttered. “I think he may be a part of Tysion’s network, though.” Niha glanced at the caaldurin once more but could see no sign of any relation to the criminal Tysion.
“Ah, I understand. Well try and see if you can find anything else; the extraction team will be arriving at your location soon.” The communicator buzzed again.
“Will do.”
“Why do you think he is a part of Tysion’s network? I scanned him and found no ties to him or his network.” Niha said with a confused tone.
“If you were paying attention then you would have noticed that his reaction to a certain key words shows that he definitely has some ties with the network.” Rando chuckled.
Niha remained confused. She was unaware that living beings were able to focus on multiple tasks simultaneously, under the assumption that it was a skill exclusive to machines. Still bewildered, Niha turned on her heel towards one of the crates broken during the fight. An assault rifle that was still inside was the focus of Niha’s attention and became highlighted by a pale blue glow in her HUD. A mass of information, most of which was statistical, popped into view.
One particular piece of information snatched Niha’s attention, ‘This weapon is compatible with elemental energy.’ Very few firearms were capable of channelling a being’s elemental energy, and those that could were very limited in their effects. After quickly scanning the other firearms in the crate Niha’s photoreceptors widened at the results.
The faint screeching of brakes came from outside the warehouse, followed by the slamming of car doors and patter of footprints on wet ground; at least five individuals by Rando’s count.
A pair of forceful hands opened the large, rigid doors of the warehouse. The warm glow of the afternoon sun accompanied by a light breeze strolled in through the doorway. Niha’s HUD revealed five Order agents, none of which she had seen before. An amber outline around the individual in the middle of the group indicated a member high in the Order’s ranks—Echo. One of the Order’s oldest serving members and one of the few Helryx tasked with training new recruits.
“Nice of you to join us, Echo.” called Rando with a nod. Echo simply bowed his head in response and raised an arm. The agents behind him rushed forward and began apprehending the unconscious Black Brawler thugs.
“I was told your interrogation bore no fruit.” said Echo.
“Who’ll be handling them next?”
“Helryx herself.” A brief chuckle escaped Rando’s lips. “Perhaps they enjoy they prefer the company of a woman.” Echo continued.
“Not that one.”
Niha listened to the two exchanging what she identified as banter. The exchange of witty remarks was not something she expected from two Order agents out in the field. But perhaps she was taking matters too seriously.
Echo approached the automaton as Rando carried one of the Black Brawlers outside.
“Greetings, Niha.” Echo’s voice was deep and ancient. “Rando tells me that you have been scanning the weapons stored here. What did you find?”
“All of the firearms here are compatible with elemental energy. I have also detected some very powerful explosive devices being stored here, however, none of them are armed.” Niha replied in earnest.
Echo responded with a sigh and spun on his heel before walking towards the warehouse doors. Niha followed suit and walked by his side.
“And what of your first exposure to a real combat scenario? How did it go?” Echo asked after a brief moment of silence. Niha paused, her pace slowed and photoreceptors readjusted themselves. She had never been asked to assess her own performance.
“It went well, I suppose.” replied Niha with a meek tone. Echo pursed his lips as they exited the confines of the warehouse.
“Is that all?”
“No. I am just unsure how to respond, sir.” Niha lowered her head, a sense of chagrin began gnawing away at her.
“Don’t fret, it will come to you.” Echo replied after sensing her slight distress.
The afternoon sun was a dreary glow in the smoggy air. Henkon was a city well-known for the slums that surrounded the much wealthier inner district. Neglected much like the underside of a turaga’s feet, Henkon’s slums developed as a settlement independent of the city they surrounded. A world of bartering, scavenging and theft surrounded him.
His feet met the ground with thuds. Daubs of dust and dirt were strewn across the road, a line of ramshackle stalls and buildings on either side. His heavy and uncertain footsteps attracted the occasional scowl—it was not the place for uncertainty. He reached for the end of his hood as a gust caused his cloak to quiver. Some of the stalls had a plethora of trinkets on display, many of which seemed to serve no purpose and were coated with a sickly orange rust. He would have considered buying one just for the sake of it, but the detached eyes and twitching figures that stood by each stall unnerved him.
He drew the hood over his kanohi more tightly and obscured his view of the stall owners. The sight of a passably intact building came into view in a space between two market stalls. It was set apart from the other buildings in the area by its lack of broken windows and iron doorframes. He cautiously walked through the doorframe into a dark hallway and caught the glint of a metal object being thrust in his direction. He lurched backwards in shock, causing his hood to reveal his dull, grey hau.
“You’ve got no business here. Get out!” barked the fe-matoran before him as he edged the tip of a spear further into his armour. The matoran had a pair of unwavering eyes full of purpose, much unlike those of the people outside.
“I’m here to see Tysion.” he twitched as his eyes darted from the spear tip to the matoran.
“Everyone’s here to see him.” the fe-matoran drove the weapon further into his armour, denting it. “Unless you got something of int’rest then I’ll stick this right through you!”
“Mydocc, that’s enough.” a voice boomed from the stairwell behind him. The matoran withdrew the spear and stepped aside without delay. “I’ve been expecting him.”
A tremble in his next step caused the wooden beam to release a shrill creak. His head turned to the Mydocc, who remained idle like a statue against the wall, concealed beneath a shadow. Within a few uneasy paces he was ascending the first step. A shudder raced down his back and faintly rustled his armour. An imposing figure stood at the end of the hallway facing the window. Burnt orange and purple armour peered through the shadows. Large pieces of polished, hau-stone infused metals covered his body—a mark of wealth. A powerless noble huna rested on his face. But this was far from the truth; his orange huna wielded great influence amongst the many who knew of his reputation. The barbs that composed his shoulder plates appeared almost like a crown surrounding his head and made him a king.
Tysion was regarded as the king of secrets. Childish rumours were of no worth and had no place in his field of expertise. Tysion dealt in secrets, the kind that could ruin the careers of politicians or turn best friends into the bitterest of enemies. He was the centre and founder of an extensive network that dealt in secrets. Some said that Tysion could manipulate anyone into telling them exactly what he wanted to hear.
But Tysion had no time for childish rumours.
“Something tells me that you don’t want to be here.” Tysion said. His voice was deep and aged, and seemed to linger in the dusty air. The other being cleared his throat and took a deep breath
“I have some information regarding one of the Black Brawler weapon storehouses.” a hollow, apprehensive voice said. “It was raided yesterday, by the Order. A group of six were arrested at the scene, and apparently beaten quite badly.”
“Yesterday is old news, friend.” Tysion said in an exhausted tone. Information travelled much faster than he expected, even information as classified as this. He grunted and clenched a fist; he had gone to great lengths to retrieve such information. A small indentation on the armour covering his clenched hand was after punching a Black Brawler to find out what happened.
“Most of the firearms they stored were compatible with elemental energy.” he sputtered, eyes widening ever so slightly.
“I can tell that you are trying to impress me,” Tysion said as he turned to face the being, “but I learned of the storehouse and its contents months ago. What perplexes me is why you chose to come here and tell me. It is common knowledge that this network operates much more discreetly, especially when it comes to procuring information.”
Tysion walked forward and stopped directly in front of the window, becoming just a silhouette. The being flinched and began to breathe deeply, trembling. “So tell me. Why did you come and see me?” Tysion demanded. His voice was unnervingly hostile and seemed to rattle the floor beneath him. A gulp followed the uncontrollable shivering that took over his body.
“I just wanted to see if the rumours were true!” he cried and shut his eyes to prepare for the beating he was sure to receive. But no pain followed. He waited for several uncomfortable moments before opening his eyes. Tysion had already returned to the window, just like before.
“Mydocc has something for you downstairs. Make sure to take it with you on your way out.” Tysion said with a cold ring in his voice. He turned away from the coh’lhran, relieved that he could walk out of the building alive. As he made his way down the stairs he noticed that the fe-matoran had not moved at all—back against the wall, concealed by a shadow with the spear by his side. Mydocc’s eyes followed the being as he approached. He offered him a small trinket, similar to the ones on display in the market stalls and was holding it by a small ribbon tied around a pointed edge. The being looked down at the matoran and snatched the rusted trinket from his grasp.
A purple glint covered his eyes the moment he touched the trinket. He dropped the cloak from his shoulders, revealing a small communicator fastened to his waist, and stood idle for a moment. His eyes widened in alarm and clenched his fists in shock. His communicator betrayed his identity as a Ghalshu operative was compromised. He had been working undercover to try and gather information on Tysion’s operations—and he had just been sussed out.
“You’re telling no one of this.” Mydocc sneered. Before the being could react a burning pain coursed through his chest. He yelled in distress as he collapsed to his knees. His head dropped and he watched as the tip of a spear erupted from his chest plate. He wailed and cried as the spear was yanked out from his chest. His corpse crashed to the floor and rattled the room around him. Mydocc looked up at the busy street ahead, no heads turned in his direction.
“Heh, Ghalshu.” he huffed, before returning to his position by the wall.
Chapter Three[]
It had been four days since Vluxx’s brutal initiation into the Order of Mata Nui; four weeks since he decided that his life was about more than a courier’s duties. The application process was very tedious and began with a test consisting of morality-based questions, followed by a psychological evaluation. Vluxx figured that the morality test was to separate the deranged psychopaths from everyone else. He assumed the psychological evaluation, which took place in a room similar to the Light Room. His responses to a series of hardlight simulations was analysed thoroughly.
He was asked to return to Ïarghul just under four weeks later.
Vluxx’s limbs ached, his chest was sore and his breathing was heavy. He brushed aside an incoming punch and retaliated by lunging forward with his shoulder. The training figure staggered backwards, the bright red number three on its chest glared at Vluxx like a target. The training figure recovered and tackled the toa to the ground. Vluxx let a pained groan when his back hit the ground. He instinctively raised his beaten arms and felt the impact of a strong punch nearly push past them.
A fist powered past his arms and collided with the side of his kanohi. Vluxx’s vision blurred and an incessant ringing was all he could hear. Another punch crashed into his head and forced it to hit the floor. A sharp yell erupted from his lungs as he reached up and pushed the figure off him. Vluxx stumbled to his feet, knees wavering. He saw the training figure pounce forward, causing Vluxx to lurch back. The figure’s arm grazed his chest and Vluxx took his opportunity to strike. Summoning all of the energy he could, the toa of twilight brought his elbow down onto the back of his opponent’s head like an asteroid. The training figure fell to Vluxx’s feet and dematerialised into a swarm of light fragments. Vluxx looked at the other agents training in the Light Room. Tayluu was near the back delivering a savage flurry of punches and kicks to a level four training figure. She delivered a final strike to the figure’s neck, causing it to dissipate instantly. Tayluu shrugged and walked towards the wall and one of the panels flickered, turning into a screen. The toa of psionics pressed a few buttons and another training figure appeared behind her. Turning to face the figure with a grin on her face, Tayluu began her next assault.
Vluxx shifted his gazed, clearly impressed by his fellow recruit, and perhaps slightly afraid. Gribrak had thrown a figure across his field of vision; the number three glowing on its chest. The hulking Steltian charged into his recovering opponent and had caused it to dissipate after it collided with the wall behind it. Gribrak wiped his brow and grunted as he stretched his arms. Vluxx then turned his attention to the observation deck, tucked away amongst a series of monitors near the ceiling of the Light Room. He attempted to gaze into its darkened glass, perhaps for too long. Vluxx averted his gaping expression with an expression that resembled embarrassment.
A slender physique drifted towards him. The tryna on her head was all Vluxx needed to see in order to identify the being—Niha. He had never seen the automaton before, only hearing rumours about the efficiency of her central processing unit, and the near-irony of a tryna for a head.
“I saw that you were having difficulty with your combat training.” The automaton’s soft voice hung briefly at the ends of some words, creating a tone that was either uncertain or unnatural. “Allow me to assist you in your training.” Niha spoke with a purpose unlike any she had experienced before. It was the only time she had ever done something that she was not instructed to do, and her processors drew a blank. Spontaneity was an unfamiliar action to her.
“Um, yeah. Sure.” Vluxx responded, interrupting Niha’s attempt to try and make sense of her actions. She lost her train of thought, and after a moment of recalculating her next action. Niha opened her palm and held it out to Vluxx.
“Your offensive and defensive manoeuvres lacked structure and had very little technique.” Niha said as she demonstrated a strong punch before swiftly moving into a defensive stance. “You are also showing signs of fatigue, undoubtedly enhanced by your injuries.” Niha continued.
“I’m all right, thanks.” Vluxx hastily replied. Niha stared at the toa and tilted her head as Vluxx limped towards a panel on the wall. A level three training figure materialised in front of Niha and fell into a defensive stance. Vluxx turned away from the wall and threw himself in the direction of the figure. Niha gazed as he soared through the air with his arm raised for an attack. She sidestepped out of the toa’s path, calculating that his attack would not be successful. Niha’s calculations within the Light Room were always accurate because she could form a connection between herself and the Room’s A.I. Through this connection she was able to analyse any kind of statistic recorded by the A.I., construct her own training figures, and even change the Room’s appearance. She watched as Vluxx continued to grapple with the figure like a worn ragdoll. She cringed when Vluxx reeled back from a punch.
Vluxx’s confidence wavered when another strike collided with his chest. His vision blurred and his fiery spirit doused by a surge of pain that ripped through his body. He managed to stumble out of the way of the figure’s next punch, to which Niha responded with a pensive tilt of the head. Her eyes flashed as she sensed Vluxx’s dwindling conviction to succeed. Niha’s programming told her not to intervene with ongoing training unless instructed, but the experience she gained from meeting different members of the Order during her time after being activated encouraged her to defy the lines of numbers and letters that supposedly dictated her every move. Niha’s eyes flashed again as she took control of the training figure, capable of manipulating every single detail of every movement it made.
Vluxx barely avoided a kick and crashed into the wall as if the attack actually made contact.
Chapter Four[]
Glistening in the light reflected off of the surrounding buildings’ windows, the shards of glass strewn across the sidewalk would have dazzled pedestrians before sending a burning sensation through their feet. A pair of perceptive eyes analysed one of the fragments held up in a pair of tweezers shortly before it was placed into a small paper bag.
Aross had been studying the scene for several hours, although to him it felt like a decade. Ever since the sudden rise in crime had taken place he had been on call almost every day. His lime, brown and golden armour felt like weights tied to his limbs. The monotonous task of examining glass shards from a broken window irked him. It was fortunate for him that only a few shards contained what he was looking for—finding them in the field of full of said shards is what bothered him. He had to study each one closely, place it into a bag if it was of interest and would be studied later, or discard it into a pile if there was nothing notable about it. The discard pile was higher than his crouched body.
Finally at the end of his workload, Aross attempted to use his sore legs to stand and received a subtle pain in his knees. It was like pulling a pair of rusty levers that allowed him to scan the rest of the crime scene around him. The shopkeeper, owner of a second hand Kanohi store, cast his dejected eyes on what was left of the store. Aside his own not a single Kanohi was present in that shop. Aross let out a sigh and turned away. He had seen it all before. Far too much for his liking, he loathed sympathy. The hzezian took a few steps onto the middle of the road and turned back around to study the whole crime scene in greater detail. Aside from a few of his colleagues still on the scene there wasn’t much to observe. He began to recall witnesses hearing an extremely loud noise shortly before the glass shattered. Being a hzezian, Aross knew that militaries often developed sonic technology capable of shattering glass—which explained why windows of surrounding buildings and parked vehicles were also smashed to pieces.
A group of simple thieves should have no access to a military device of any kind unless they were highly skilled and capable of building a device of their own. But why would larcenists of such a degree target a second hand Kanohi store? Things didn’t add up. It was another addition to a horde of unusual or unexplained crimes that had been building up over the past few days.
Aross continued to study the crime scene for several minutes before noticing a white van parked outside of the barrier around the crime scene, then realising that it had been there for the entirety of the day. His analytical thought process kicked in as his eyes scanned the vehicle for anything suspicious. Almost instantly he noticed how low set the vehicle was in relation to the tires, well below standard regulations. Only a really heavy object inside of the vehicle would cause it to lie that low. As he made his way towards the van to investigate it in greater detail the ground beneath him rocked violently and a bright orange flash erupted in front of him. His ears buzzed as a noise louder than anything he had ever heard before thundered around him. Aross was launched backwards before he could even process the sudden outburst force. Black soon began to take over as the bright flash of light imprinted in his vision faded away into the darkness, soon engulfing Aross’ consciousness with it.
Several hours later…
Voices—a distant murmur in the back of his mind. The murmur turned into a painful ringing when his vision began to return. Breaths of life suddenly rushed into his lungs, the shock forced him upright and allowed his senses to flood back in. All he saw was a blurred mess of colours, moving about erratically like flies around a carcass. The dazed and confused hzezian attempted to lift his head off the ground only for his struggle to end with a sharp pain that surged through his body. The ringing in his ears soon gave way to a faint mumble amidst a host of other indistinguishable noises.
When Aross’ senses finally cleared he realised what had happened. A monolithic cloud of smoke rose from the wreckage of what used to be the second hand Kanohi store. Large chunks of metal covered the road around him; some had even been firmly wedged into the ground.
“You need to rest.” a comforting voice told him, soothing his aching head. Aross’ head was guided back down onto the ground. The figure of a ga-matoran came into view, her navy Ruru covered with soot and ash and her white armour darkened beyond recognition.
“Xavlo?” Aross weakly muttered while attempting to raise a hand. Aross then noticed the extent of his injuries as the shimmer of shrapnel caught his attention—a piece of metal the size of his fist deeply cut into his arm. Only then did the pain start to kick in. It surged up his arm and throughout his body like wildfire.
“I’ll need you to stay calm. This is going to hurt a lot.” Xavlo’s deadpan voice did not soothe him. Her firm grip latched onto his arm. Aross looked on in anxiety as her other hand moved in for the metal cutting into his arm like a rifix dragon. Within the blink of an eye the metal chunk lay on the ground and a wave of pain surged through him again. The wound was soon wrapped tightly in a blood-stained bandage.
“What happened?” inquired the hzezian with a feeble tone, still fragile from his injuries.
“There was a bomb in what used to be that van over there.” she replied and motioned towards the singed ground around where the vehicle used to me. “You were caught in the blast and got knocked unconscious.”
“How long was I—“
“Only a couple of hours. You were really lucky to get out of that alive, let alone with just a few minor injuries.” interrupted Xavlo’s calm voice as she helped him sit upright. Aross gripped his arm as he looked up at the pillar of smoke in disbelief. A flash of orange briefly revealed itself before disappearing into the blackness. The smoke was so thick that it concealed the fire within, occasionally letting small flames escape.
“They think the explosion ruptured a gas pipeline that ran underground.” Xavlo stated after sensing the hzezian’s concern in the black, gaseous tower. She took a conspicuous pause to take several delicate breaths of air.
Aross knew despair when he saw it and looked into her saddened eyes. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right.” He leant forward and hugged her with his one arm. Xavlo’s bottled up emotions suddenly spewed out in the form of tears and whimpers. She wrapped her arms around his body tightly. “It’s going to be okay.” Aross continued, a little surprised by Xavlo’s outburst.
Xavlo eventually let go of Aross—who proceeded to gasp for breath—and began to wipe the tears from her mask. The hzezian thought he heard a faint ‘thank you’ behind the ga-matoran’s sobs. He managed to lift himself off the ground and brushed off the debris from the explosion that covered his armour. As he offered his hand to Xavlo the ground beneath him rocked savagely and threw him off his feet. Panic flared amongst the emergency services around them as the sound of an explosion roared through the city.
Aross and Xavlo looked on in fear.
“Kipou!” Creteau cried out as the dust began to settle. His eyes frantically darted around like searchlights, scanning the area for his friend.
“Over here.” a voice behind him faintly called. Creteau snapped around to see Kipou half buried by the rubble of a wall and one of the great metal doors that was blown off in the blast. Creteau scrambled towards the ko-matoran and madly climbed up the rocks towards him. His lack of care caused him to slip back down the pile and smack his knee against the sharp edge of a large rock at the bottom. He cursed under his breath and made another attempt to climb to Kipou, the damage his knee sustained made a clear impact on his speed.
Soon by his friend’s side, Creteau attempted to push the rocks off of his friend. Shouting and gunfire suddenly invaded the room as masked gunmen stormed in through the massive hole in the front of the building where the doors once stood. The other civilians in the room began to scream and panic shortly before the assault rifles were pointed in their direction.
“Get on the ground now!” one of them shouted in an oddly excitable tone—enjoying the mayhem they caused. The civilians obeyed like slaves, almost bowing down the gun-wielding criminals. One of them caught sight of Creteau perched atop a small pile of rubble, Kipou by his side.
“Now.” The criminal’s menacing words combined with his twitchy finger by the trigger of a gun forced the reluctant av-matoran to climb off the rubble and join the other citizens. Somehow a relatively small group of criminals had blown the doors straight off one of the supposedly most secure places on Chroros Nui, the Zutalan Bank. A heist on an establishment with one of the most revered security systems on the continent would take weeks, even months of planning. Creteau shuddered at the thought and looked up at their entrance—a massive hole in the side of the building.
Another figure strode into view from the clouded entrance, the black and silver armour ushered in a feeling of dread when Creteau realised who it belonged to—Milode. Even the other criminals fearfully back away from the toa of magnetism’s chilling air. Milode approached the av-matoran and allowed the silence to consume him. Not even attempting to make a sound, Creteau still felt as if something was latching onto his throat and strangling him. Not even the sound of his own breaths reached his ears. It was like he was dead.
Milode motioned for two of the criminals with bags on their backs to follow him and within moments they were disappearing into the back of the bank. Only six gunmen remained, each with a rifle primed on an unfortunate civilian. The criminals began to herd them to one side of the building with the exception of Kipou, still stranded beneath a heavy metal door and several large pieces of rubble. Tekih kept his finger off the trigger; he wanted to be absolutely certain that he would not be firing his gun. He aimed it at a figure he recognised, Creteau. If there was anything keeping him from losing his sanity it was knowing that his friends were okay. At least, moderately okay. He could see Creteau’s frustration and anger, the av-matoran undeterred by the collective forlornness of the other hostages.
The word broke through his mind again.
Hostages.
Were they going to demand even more money? Perhaps make an example of their ruthlessness? All Tekih remembered of the plan was to get in, look intimidating and get out with the money. Hoxuak’s exact words. Sirens blared in the distance and gave Tekih the opportunity to let out a sigh of relief. He quickly took it back with a gulp in when he realised that the arrival of the authorities almost always ended with a volley of bullets. Tekih turned his head and saw Milode leading the other two criminals, both heaving bags stuffed full of money.
“You are surrounded!” the noise echoed around the dusty, marbled room. “Release the hostages and leave the bank with your hands on your head!” Milode paused for a moment as the rest of the criminals stared at him for an answer to their problem. Much to Tekih’s amazement the legendary criminal figure held his hands up to his head as if he had given up immediately. The other criminals were lost in a state of shock as Milode walked towards the entrance. He looked back and gestured for them to come with, an expression which disgusted some of his fellow criminals as evidenced by their cursing. Guns clattered to the ground as one-by-one, they followed their leader to the outside. Tekih happily joined them.
Perhaps Hoxuak was not the best person to plan a heist after all.
The sudden sense of hope gave Kipou the strength to push away the rock that trapped him for the entirety of the ordeal. Crawling out of the rubble, Kipou joined Creteau and the other hostages who decided it was time to leave the building. Pushing past the criminals, they rushed outside into the safety of the police. Tekih watched as the former hostages clambered down the steps to their freedom. As weird as it was to see Milode give up so easily, it filled him with joy. Then Tekih saw one of Milode’s fingers at the back of his head tapping like a ticking clock. Tekih held his breath as one of the most frightening things he would ever see began to unfold.
Three. Two. One.
An explosion of fire and smoke engulfed the area. Vehicles were launched into high into the air like paper in the wind. Creteau and Kipou were thrown back by the blast and crashed into the steps that lead down into the carnage. Creteau’s vision blurred slightly and he began to feel dizzy. What he thought were bodies sprawled across the ground in front of him appeared as lumps of colour surrounded by a flickering orange glow. His head fell back and ached as it collided with the stone. The last thing Creteau saw was the fleeing band of criminals, not looking back.
All but one.
Characters[]
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Promotional images[]
Trivia[]
- This story has undergone numerous rewrites.
- The title was suggested by the user Chalk33.