Legacy Weapons

Legacy Weapons
Story
Setting	Spherus Magna
Date Set	Present Day
Timeline
Previous	Legacies: MAZEKA
Next	N/A

"What are we, some kind of Legacy Weapons?"

―Toa Pouks

Legacy Weapons is an upcoming canon-compliant story taking place in the Myths and Legacy project, written by BobTheDoctor27.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Bara Magna, the Toa Hagah embark on a perilous quest to liberate the Toa Mahri from the Skakdi Fortress.

Story

Chapter 1

Pouks, Toa Hagah of Stone, concentrated to call upon his elemental powers and raise the great megalith of rock before him. With a mighty heave, the stone slab shifted, allowing the Protocairn trapped beneath it to wriggle its way free. Vocalizing a weak screech, the Rahi charged past the Toa, its tail slamming into his waist and knocking him aside.

“No need to thank me,” wheezed the Toa, watching as the creature headed to the south, following the scents of the Rahi that had been liberated before it.

It had been a lengthy endeavor to work his way this far into the ruins of the Matoran universe with his teammates, freeing the remaining survivors trapped by the collapse of the Mata Nui Robot. Together, rescue teams were cooperating to clear settlements of injured Matoran and stranded Rahi, some pinned beneath debris like the Protocairn or huddling around dying heat sources while the world crumbled around them. Bomonga, along with many surviving Toa of Earth, had remained behind on the southern continent, where they were working tirelessly to dig out the Matoran who had taken shelter in the Nui Caves. Similarly, Gaaki had joined with her Toa of Water sisters to transport the universe’s aquatic Rahi to the oceans of Spherus Magna.

Figuring there was no place else he’d rather be, Pouks straightened his back and gazed out triumphantly at the valley around him. A proud city belonging to a forgotten civilization had once stood here, now dilapidated and overgrown with vegetation. Many exotic breeds of Rahi had settled here, alongside a thriving village of Fa-Matoran in the east. Iruini and Kualus had spent the morning occupied by the island’s Manutri population, while he and Norik had concerned themselves with the villagers. Now, all four Toa Hagah had reconvened for one final sweep of the island before moving on to the northern isles.

“I’m surprised the Toa Mahri haven’t pitched in,” mused Iruini, using a Rhotuka spinner to heal a Husi that was hobbling on a wounded leg. “Could’ve used Kongu’s help herding those Fader Bulls.”

Pouks exchanged an uncertain glance with Kualus, whose torn features showed up even on his own Mask of Rahi Control.

“I’m sure they have a good reason for their absence,” suggested the Toa of Ice, turning to face the horizon, which seemed locked in a state of perpetual sunrise.

Pouks snorted.

“Or a bad one...”

In a place far removed from the grasslands of the Matoran universe, Jaller, leader of the Toa Mahri, watched the rising pillars of Stone and Earth that slowly grew out of the seabed. He gazed impassively as they knotted together, rising up through the ocean depths to meet the surface an inch at a time. The fortress that the pillars now surrounded was ornate and beautiful, and the golden-skinned being had seen fit to assign the Toa the responsibility of reinforcing the underwater foundations.

Itching at the back of his mind, the Toa of Fire could sense the influence of another presiding over his thoughts, as though a vicious cloud were numbing his mind and pushing him out. It was a sensation he had felt before while under the hypnotic influence of Barraki Takadox, though the force that commanded his limbs now left him wholeheartedly committed to the cause of his new master. There was no inkling of resistance now, just the dignity of humble servitude to the first true leader he had ever known. As Vakama and the Toa Metru had once done so many centuries ago, they themselves now journeyed to a new world in search of a place for the Skakdi people to reside. Under his command, the Toa Mahri gave their elemental energies gladly in a watery expanse where no other Toa dared journey.

Beside him, Nuparu and Hewkii were hard at work channeling their respective elemental powers, while Hahli summoned watercurrents carrying sediment. Jaller supposed it was only fitting that the Toa should labor so vigorously to develop the foundations of such a structure. After all, the last time they had united their powers, they had brought down the Cord, destroying the lost city whose name they honored — Mahri Nui.

Of course, back then, they had counted an extra Toa amongst their number, a loss Jaller doubted the team would ever truly heal from. Perhaps this was penance for their failure — an opportunity to atone for the destruction they had wrought and commemorate their fallen comrade. With a sixth Toa among them, they might have honored their new leader with a glistening Toa Seal.

Spurred on by the tremendous guilt in his chest, the Toa of Fire nodded to Kongu, who wordlessly swung his arms about and opened another air corridor between his teammate and the newly-formed patch of rock. Launching a burst of flame through the oxygen-rich tunnel from the tip of his power blade, Jaller welded shut a fissure in the stonework, a growing fault revealed to him by his Kanohi Arthron.

There could be no imperfections.

Observing from the shoreline of Aqua Magna, the golden being smiled warmly. Flanked by legions of his followers, he remarked how vastly his numbers had grown.

For some time, he had contemplated the means of his creation - his genesis. Born of the the fused psyches of a Vortixx, a Steltian, a Zyglak, and the six renegade Piraka, he had emerged from the annals of ancient myth as the salvation of the Skakdi species, even taking the likeness of their most barbaric champion, Irnakk. Finding a universe in turbulent disarray, he had united the remaining tribes of Zakaz under his banner without opposition. Now, with the downfall of the warlord Nektann and the scattering of the Skakdi to the dunes of Bara Magna, his following had grown tenfold. Even Mata Nui had grown absent from this fledgling world, which left him uniquely positioned to conquer... if he so desired.

He cast a cursory gaze over the droves of warriors assembled at his side. The tribesmen bristled with anticipation, with only his leadership keeping them from unleashing their fury on one another. They were bruisers and laborers, hardened by centuries of infighting and civil war, all too often dismissed for their more violent tendencies. Their passions ran deep, and yet they had proven to be blunt and predictable, like most Skakdi he had known over the course of his nine lives.

Puffing his armored chest out and stepping forward, one of the Skakdi generals moved to address him.

“My liege, these ‘Toa Mahri’,” he began, full of bluster and bravado, “they’re not to be underestimated. My clan has heard tales of their exploits on Voya Nui. They might champion the will of Mata Nui, but they’re unlike any before them. We must tread lightly where they’re concerned.”

“I consider it a wise policy never to underestimate Toa,” agreed the golden being, his voice conveying a wisdom as old and inflexible as the eons.

Ambition was certainly a sentiment felt by the component species in his genetic makeup; yet, such appetites were not his to yearn for. The Skakdi had heralded him as their messiah — a conquering titan capable of withstanding the fearsome Makuta. In truth, he had no such aspirations. In fact the golden colossus could already feel his interest in their cause waning.

“For now, the Toa add credibility to our endeavor,” he announced to the warlord who had approached him. “But I take your counsel under advisement. Once their usefulness has expired, so too shall they...”

A satisfied murmur resounded amongst the assembled Skakdi. Already, the blind concurrence of his followers was growing tiresome. He had seen their deepest desires — even given form to a number of the more diverse cravings — and still he remained unfulfilled by the terseness of the Skakdi imagination.

The golden being continued to gaze out with interest at the Toa Mahri riding the waves, constructing the plateau upon which he would build his fortress. The Toa had been given limited instruction, and yet they had already completed their task as eagerly as Pokawi flocking to shore. Unlike the bland Skakdi barbarians, he could taste the delicious remorse emanating from the Toa. He found himself wondering what manner of cravings Mata Nui’s chosen guardians indulged in when tested as they had been.

Deep within his amalgamated psyche, Hakann smiled a toothy grin at the notion.

Chapter 2

When Kongu opened his eyes, he sensed wind blowing through the ridges of his mask. The warmth of the morning sun embraced him gently as he breathed in the familiar sights of Le-Koro, the emerald village of Mata Nui. He was a Matoran again, Captain of the Gukko Force and defender of the great jungle.

All around him, the villagers were hard at work, the treetops always in motion. Complicated systems of vines and pulleys hauled materials from the ground below while Le-Matoran busied themselves carting supplies, fixing huts, and reinforcing defenses. Insects spun and buzzed in the warm jungle air, Taku birds trilled in the high branches, and Gukko clicked to each other in the distance. Treespeak meandered through conversations as the Matoran went about their business, caring only for the next Kewa Bird Riding championship that afternoon. From the village square, he heard the familiar symphony of musicians giving their instruments the air they needed to breathe. In the distance, Turaga Matau could be seen tapping his foot to the rhythm while watching the sky for Nui-Rama.

“This is... my forest-home,” he murmured, breathing in the rich sweetness of the scene. “I can hear the life-song of Le-Wahi…”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kongu knew that this couldn’t be real. As vividly as he could see the sunlight on the layers of foliage, so too did he remember the Bohrok laying siege to Le-Koro. His joints still ached from battles he had endured against the Piraka and Barraki as a Toa. He’d seen the exile of Mata Nui and the reign of shadows, he knew that Le-Koro was a place that only existed in memory now.

Nevertheless, it was a welcome fantasy.

In the distance, he saw the visage of the golden being watching from the trees, perched among the coils of a large Vuata Maca Tree. Ambling along in the direction of his savior, Kongu bowed his head in reverence.

“Tell me, Toa Mahri of air, why does this memory not bring you peace?” asked the entity, lowering his head to meet the Toa’s eyes. “It would be a noble destiny to return to your village and defend the Matoran, would it not?”

Kongu gazed back at the bustling village around him. It was true — he had always longed to return to his home in Le-Koro. These were simpler times he silently yearned for, when all he had to worry about was Brakas encroaching on Lake Pala, not the overwhelming emptiness he now carried within his chest.

“It might have been… but it’s past-late for that now,” he said, watching Tamaru wrangling a Kewa. “I can’t return to the Matoran, not after the dark-deeds I’ve done. I can’t pretend to stand among them — to be the Toa-hero they need me to be — after all I’ve lost...”

The golden entity curled his fingers around a nearby Madu fruit.

“Your recent battles weigh heavy upon your shoulders, young Toa,” he murmured, his voice as gentle as the afternoon breeze that carried his words. “But there is great power in dreams. Some dream of conquest over that which they cannot control, others of that which they do not possess. Of fear, or of the means to escape from fear. Some do not dream at all and make for poor companions. Tell me, do you dream, Toa?”

Kongu felt swept up by the gravity of the golden one’s words, but he gazed out at the treetop horizon and steadied himself. One dream did come to mind, but to give voice to it… something told him that would be unwise.

“If you’re looking for a way-finder you won’t find one in me,” he eventually brought himself to say. “Make a world that doesn’t need-want Toa, or find someone pure-hearted. I’ve got nothing left to give...”

From her position treading in the shallows, Toa Gaaki gazed up at the Skakdi Fortress that had come to line the ragged coastal buffs of Aqua Magna. Acting off the warning Kopaka Nuva had relayed to her, the Toa of Water felt a great weight develop in her chest.

“Oh Hahli...” she lamented. “What’ve you gotten yourself into now?”

In the hopes that the evidence before her eyes might change, she remained for some time, watching four of the missing Toa Mahri patrolling the fortress in the service of the Skakdi. She could almost smell the weave of security that enclosed the place. No drawbridge. No gate. There was something there, but she knew better than most that the best security was rarely seen.

After some time, she resolved that there could be no further explanation and began the swim back to the shore, using her elemental powers to conceal her movements in the water.

She swam the rest of the distance wrestling with blame. Hoisting herself up onto the rocky shore, she searched the cove for her companion, the Order of Mata Nui operative known as Trinuma. She found him crouching patiently among the flat beachrocks, keeping a watchful eye on the Skakdi from his own vantage point.

“It’s as Kopaka feared,” she said. “Whatever hold he has over them, they're completely within his control. It’s as though he’s won their allegiance and they serve him willingly.”

“The effects are similar, but there’s no Mask of Charisma at work here,” remarked Trinuma, one hand shading his eyes from the glare of the sun. “Even with my mental shielding, I can sense the pull of this entity.”

“His must be a formidable mind to influence others,” agreed Gaaki, readjusting to the surface with slow lungfuls of air. “And you’re certain he wasn’t part of the Toa Mahri’s objective?”

Trinuma’s expression was unreadable, for he was not accustomed to betraying Order secrets. At last he decided the need for secrecy had now passed and finally relented.

“The mission was twofold: gather intel on any Skakdi warlords sympathetic to Makuta and cripple their operations. I suspected they might find the missing Piraka along the way but this...? My guess is that the Skakdi got tired of waiting and the two objectives became one.”

The Toa of Water searched the fortress walls for the object of Trinuma’s fascination: the golden pariah, a powerful new contender all but unknown to the Toa, Glatorian, and Order of Mata Nui. She had hoped never to see another generation of Toa wrestle against darkness in her lifetime. She had lived to be disappointed twice now.

Unsure what such an ill omen could mean, Gaaki called upon her Mask of Clairvoyance for guidance. Her Kanohi had proved vague and temperamental even before the restoration of Spherus Magna, but the completion of Mata Nui’s journey had altered the way in which destiny worked, allowing her to summon visions of the future with greater control than ever before. Perhaps it held some clue...

Once more, her senses were overwhelmed and some small window into future events formed before her. Shapes and colors swirled in her head until the outlines of her teammates emerged from the mist. Together, she stood alongside Pouks, Norik, Bomonga and Kualus, poised ready for battle before hordes of monstrous creatures, fledgling settlements of Matoran and Agori helpless behind them. She watched from the position of a villager, gazing up at the mighty Toa Hagah in their flawless metallic armor, carrying ornate Rhotuka shields and elemental spears. Champions of the old universe, they fought back the legions of invaders and defended the inhabitants of Spherus Magna. Together, they moved as one, paladins of an ancient and righteous crusade.

Iruini.

It struck Gaaki immediately that the Toa of Air was not among their number. In his place stood another warrior, sporting his golden armor and weapons, a Toa she didn’t recognize. Judging by the proud smiles of her teammates, his absence was of little consequence. The six Toa Hagah advanced, raining elemental hurricanes on faceless armies in the distance, blazing like gods.

Lasting just long enough to rip the breath from Gaaki’s lungs, the vision abruptly subsided, dropping her back into reality with an electric jolt. She fell to her knees, panting harder than she had when she resurfaced.

Raising a concerned eyebrow, Trinuma leaned closer.

“That was about as elegant as Brutaka on ice,” he observed, using humor to mask his concern. “What did you see?”

“Not what I expected...” she said through ragged breaths. “I saw my team, only... incomplete. We were missing one of our number... with another Toa in his place. I’ve never had a vision quite like that...”

Trinuma nodded with understanding. Despite belonging to the Order of Mata Nui, the ways of Toa were unknown to him.

“I wouldn’t think it my place to divine meaning from your visions,” he said, adjusting the kinetic blaster attached to his arm. “But the coming of new Toa may be just what we need if we are to survive on Spherus Magna. Perhaps you have foreseen that a new ally will emerge.”

Mulling the words over, Gaaki returned her gaze to the fortress, though her mind drifted far away.

“I doubt anyone’s ever said this to your face, Trinuma, but you’re far, far too optimistic...”

Nearing the second full day of their recovery operation, the four Toa Hagah sank heavily into the ruins of Karzahni’s realm, Norik using his elemental powers to spark up a campfire as cold air swept through the valley.

“My back is killing me,” groaned Pouks, performing a series of stretches to loosen the muscles. “I’ve been carrying this team all day.”

The crimson leader of their troupe had been reticent all afternoon, spending much of his time picking through the wreckage of the realm, as though searching for something lost in the rubble. Even though the Rahi had been cleared out and his teammates were keen to press on, he’d remained at work long into the evening, much to Iruini’s irritation. Pouks had rationalized he was remembering the damage wrought to Metru Nui by the Great Cataclysm and urged the others to give him space.

“Seems like it was only 400 years ago we were scouring these lands in search of Keetongu,” said Kualus, changing the subject. “Now he’s one of the few Rahi we actually have accounted for back on the surface. How far we’ve come in such little time!”

“And not just us - but how far our kind has come,” added Norik with a tired grin. “Our numbers are on the increase and new Toa are poised to start popping up any day now. I didn’t even realize there were still Toa of Iron running around.”

“I guess the future is bright,” shrugged Pouks. “Spherus Magna holds plenty of new ecosystems for the Rahi to adapt to. Imagine it, brothers… plants growing under the light of a real sun, Rock Steeds and Rock Raptors - there might even be a place for the Visorak out there… Madness!”

All around the campfire, the Toa nodded in agreement. They each shared an interest in Rahi, a passion tempered into them by years studying the creations of the Makuta. For Pouks, it was land Rahi, for Kualus the fliers. Norik was an expert in all things reptile while Iruini had grown to admire the climbers. Even Bomonga and Gaaki had expertise in the nocturnal and aquatic breeds. For much of their careers as Toa, they had concerned themselves in equal parts with the affairs of both Matoran and Rahi.

Despite the flutter of gentle conversation, Iruini’s thoughts drifted elsewhere. There was stormy weather in his head.

“I worry what’s going to happen to this new world,” he murmured thoughtfully. “How long until we find ourselves stumbling down the same path as before?”

Slowly, his three brother-Toa fell silent, sensing the sincerity of his tone. As a Rahaga, Iruini had been quick to resign himself to forces beyond his control, proving too cynical to entertain the possibility of salvation. Since their mutations had been reversed, he’d taken on bold new ideas. Even now, as many of their new allies celebrated triumph over Makuta, the Toa Hagah of air possessed a healthy dose of skepticism.

“We’ve survived with the absence of Mata Nui before,” noted Pouks, addressing the Kikanalo in the room. “But we’d be fools to think the rest of the world feels the same way.”

“Ask the Vortixx and they’ll tell you Mata Nui stopped being relevant long before the Great Disruption,” added Kualus. “And with most of his miracles reserved for Toa and Matoran, who can blame them? There’s a very good chance that another divide will sprout up here on Spherus Magna.”

Norik shook his head, attracting the gaze of his three teammates.

“When the reign of shadows began, many of those old grievances were put aside for the sake of survival. I fought alongside Dark Hunters and Skakdi alike. We came together in unity. If we’re to have any hope for the future then we must believe in change. We must bury old hatchets and forge new alliances.”

“Spoken like a Toa with careful footwork,” snapped Iruini.

No sooner had the words escaped the Toa of Air’s lips, an almighty rumble began to shake the ground, sending branches tumbling from trees and boulders cascading down a nearby cliff. Propped up against a rock, Kualus’ subzero spear was knocked from its perch and hit the ground with a mossy thud. Instinctively, all eyes fell on Pouks.

“Something you ate?” asked Norik.

Doing his best to counteract the tremors, the Toa of Stone sprang to his feet and called upon his elemental powers. In lieu of Bomonga, his senses were the most attuned to tectonic tremors.

“It’s a Rahi alright, but no pattern I recognize,” he said, reaching for his Avalanche Spear. “Whatever it is, it’s heading this way... fast!”

A dark silhouette loomed in the distance, skirting around the edge of the valley. Hurtling towards the Toa in a whirlwind of claws, armor and teeth, Iruini barely had time to call out a warning before the creature was upon them.

Pouks propelled himself forward, latching onto the Rahi’s mighty horns and wrestling for purchase. In the centuries his allies had known him, the Toa of Stone had only met his match once, attempting to wrangle a Catapult Scorpion back in his early career. The sight of Pouks being shaken aside so easily did not instill confidence in his teammates.

By now the mighty Rahi was in full view, its features illuminated in the light of the sunholes. Its form was a patchwork of different predators, possessing the snapping jaws of a Muaka, the dreadful horns of a Kane-Ra, the powerful forearms of a Tarakava, the wings of a Nui Rama, and the stinger of a Nui-Jaga.

“Kualus, take it down!” barked Norik, raising his Rhotuka shield to block a wild blow that might otherwise have torn his head clean off.

Snatching up his own weapons, the Toa of Ice activated his Kanohi and reached out, his mind brushing against the Rahi’s psyche and digging in, asserting one basic command: Stop.

Extending its powerful neck, the creature let off a powerful roar that might well have stunned a Toa of Sonics. The sheer force of the outburst sent off a psychic pulse of resistance, which severed Kualus’ connection. Stunned by the mental feedback, the Toa of Ice escaped the ensuing swipe of the Rahi’s claws by the width of a Kanoka disk. There would be no taming this beast.

Through their collective pool of wisdom, the Toa now recognized their adversary as the legendary Rahi Nui. Voracious and highly confrontational, this was a creature designed by the very Makuta they had once served. Though they had never had cause to face the beast themselves, they had heard the tales of its ferocity recounted by the Turaga and Toa Nuva alike.

“Look sharp, team!” barked Norik. “Pouks, give Iruini a boost. Kualus, cover them!”

Weapons drawn, the four Toa Hagah launched a volley of weak elemental attacks to draw their target’s attention. Raising a series of Ice columns to pin the Rahi in place, Kualus created a window of opportunity for Norik to fire Slow Rhotuka.

Leaping into the air, Iruini bounded onto Pouks’ shield. Using the full might of his enhanced muscles, the Toa of Stone propelled his teammate higher, launching Iruini into the Rahi’s blindspot, where he landed gracefully on the Rahi Nui’s arched back.

“Easy there,” he cooed, placing his outstretched palm on the creature’s neck. “We don’t mind where you go, but you can’t stay here!”

He soon found the fury of the Rahi Nui would not be quelled by a simple handpat.

The beast rose to stand on its hindlegs, causing Iruini to slide from its back and fall to the ground. Slamming its Tarakava arms down into the ground, it angled towards Kualus.

Rather than wriggle and writhe in its clutches, Kualus forced his shield up and fired off a Rhotuka spinner of his own. Unlike Norik, his spinners held the power of Stasis and were capable of locking the joints of most targets in place. Or at least that was what usually happened...

The Rahi Nui stiffened but resisted the effects of the spinner. In primal rage, it slammed down on Kualus with the full force of its forelegs. Like so many of Makuta’s creations, it possessed great tolerance for stasis fields.

“Over-engineered spawn of a – ” grumbled the white armored Toa. Before he could finish, he was pressed beneath the ruptured earth by the Rahi’s sheer weight.

As it moved to new ground, it dawned on the Toa that Kualus lay unconscious.

“I guess Makuta decided to build you differently,” grumbled Pouks, somersaulting backwards to evade another swipe. “We need a better strategy, Norik!”

But the Toa of Fire was several steps ahead of his teammate. In his mind, there was no way to overpower the creature once enraged. No low-hanging ceiling to catch it beneath or walls to snare its horns against. Even so, trapping the Rahi Nui would serve only to entomb it in the dying Matoran universe, dooming it to the very fate the Toa Hagah had sworn would befall no Rahi on their watch. There had to be another solution.

“I’m thinking,” he said, cycling through options. “Pouks, cover me.”

“With what?!”

The moment of strategizing would cost the Toa dearly, for no sooner had Norik grasped the vaguest outline of a plan than the Rahi Nui had locked its powerful claws around his waist and hoisted him off his feet. Weapons pinned to his sides, the Toa struggled, feeling the talons piercing his armor. Activating his Mask of Diminishment, Norik shrunk down and slipped through the claws of his adversary.

“Iruni, get to Kualus!” he barked. “He needs healing! Use your spinner!”

“Forget that!” snorted the Toa of Air, raising his spear and conjuring hurricane force. “Toa Iruini doesn’t back down from a challenge!”

“Iruini!” roared Norik, vaulting over to protect Kualus and throwing up his shield.

The Toa charged a ball of compressed air at the tip of his Cyclone Spear and flung it at the Rahi Nui, as though launching a kolhii ball. But the beast moved and the elemental burst sailed over its head, disappearing harmlessly into the night sky.

“Oops...”

Angered, the Rahi Nui swung its stinger tail aimlessly across the campfire, knocking Norik’s shield from his hands in a shower of ashes and cinders. The Toa of Fire was sent sprawling, taking the blow that would’ve surely found his unconscious teammate. If he hadn’t moved when he did...

“Pouks, use your Rhotuka!” he barked, glaring daggers at Iruini. “See if you can knock it down!”

Pouks frowned. “My Rhotuka? But it doesn’t work on Rahi.”

“This one is different! Just do it!”

“Alright... you’re the boss,” he said, unconvinced.

Lining up a shot with his shield, the Toa of Stone launched a Disruption Rhotuka. The wheel of energy tore through the air, connecting with the creature’s center of mass as it angled towards Iruini.

Intended to subdue enemy combatants, Pouks’ spinner allowed him to temporarily break a target’s link to their powers. This usually meant blocking elemental energies, Kanohi masks, or even more extraordinary abilities. Under normal circumstances, the spinner was useless against Rahi as it could not disrupt natural abilities.

To Pouks’ surprise though, he watched as the Rahi Nui buckled and groaned, stopped dead in its tracks by the spinner. Wavering by the combined efforts of Norik and Kualus’ Slow and Stasis Rhotuka, it seemed the Toa of Fire’s gambit had paid off.

For the first time in centuries, the Rahi Nui roared in pain. At one time it had possessed command over all eight of the Kanoka disk powers, but it had lost these abilities after a fateful encounter with the Toa Metru. If only briefly, that damage was now undone and the powers of the Kanoka returned to it with vengeance, regrowing damaged nerves beyond the range of its own pain threshold. Growing and shrinking and teleporting.

Weakening.

“This is our chance!” yelled the Toa of Fire. “Iruini - for Tren Krom’s sake - follow orders for once and cover Kualus! Pouks, let’s draw it away!”

Picking himself up and activating his Kanohi Kualsi, Iruini blinked out of existence and reappeared an instant later, hauling the semi-conscious form of Kualus from the ground. A Healing Rhotuka ensured his teammate was revived.

“Rise and shine, snowflake,” he quipped, brushing dirt and debris from the Toa of Ice’s armor. “Time to show us why we keep you around.”

“I... I don’t know what’s happening,” groaned Kualus, sitting upright. “But I’m sure it’s your fault, Iruini.”

The Rahi Nui continued to flail about, body stitching itself back together at random then Regenerating back, its powers of Growth and Shrink ballooning and crushing its limbs. Pinned in place by bursts of Fire and columns of Stone, the Rahi threw its head back and cried out in anguish.

Dazed, Kualus activated his Mask of Rahi Control and reached out with his mind, engaging the Rahi Nui in an arena of the minds. He met the same resistance he had felt earlier but refused to be pushed aside so easily a second time. Before, he’d tried to impose the full weight of his will on the Rahi’s psyche and enjoyed no success. This time, he decided to try a less forceful approach.

Sleep.

The Rahi Nui faltered, taking a staggering step backwards and nearly buckling on its own limp forearms. Lowering their weapons, Norik, Pouks and Iruini watched in wonder as the fury of the legendary Rahi ebbed away, replaced by a placating drowsiness. The creature swayed and lulled before falling to the ground in exhaustion. Then, finally, sagging into the undergrowth heavily, the Rahi Nui made a noise no Toa had heard before.

It began to snore.

A silence gripped the Toa for some time before the adrenaline faded and Kualus finally deactivated his mask, allowing himself to pant ragged lungfuls of air.

“Kualus, that was amazing,” declared Pouks in disbelief. “Commanding the legendary Rahi Nui! The mightiest of Makuta’s creations...”

The Toa of Stone trailed off in speechless admiration, allowing Norik to finish for him.

“You’ve come a long way from Hoi Turtles and Taku Birds, brother,” mused the Toa of Fire with a weary smile. “Well done.”

Deflecting the praise with a smile, Kualus turned to Iruini for his customary cynicism only to find the dangerous glimmer of resentment in the Toa of Air’s eyes.

“Good job,” he croaked, refusing to meet Norik’s gaze.

Wordlessly, he began preparing a Healing Rhotuka to treat his wounds.

As Pouks and Norik marveled in the victory, Kualus began to wonder where Iruini’s heart truly lay.

Chapter 3

When Hewkii opened his eyes, he found himself in the player’s tunnel of the Ta-Koro kolhii stadium with Hafu. At the prompting of the announcer, the two Po-Matoran leapt forward onto the field, where they were met with such thunderous applause it was as though Mata Nui himself was cheering. As Hafu conducted a regime of stretches behind him, he clanked his staff with Takua and Hahli. He wished them luck, even though he knew they didn’t stand a chance. The Matoran roared in anticipation as each of the spectators began chanting the name of their champion - and his name was Hewkii.

And yet, as the kolhii ball was launched into play, Hewkii struggled to gather concentration as he had done before, for he knew these events to have already transpired a lifetime ago.

The Ga-Koro challengers had won the match and many of the champions he now shared the arena with had gone on to become Toa, himself included. As Hahli slipped past him to claim possession of the ball from Takua, the Po-Matoran made no move to obstruct her, his mind receding back into the stadium as though he were just another observer.

“If this is the thrill that you desire, Toa of Stone, then why do you not participate?”

Hewkii turned to face the golden entity, who had descended to the arena from his perch high above the Toa Nuva and Turaga. As he approached, all notion of participating in the match escaped the Po-Matoran.

“It was to be my greatest triumph,” chuckled Hewkii, stealing a fond glance at Macku poised to defend the Ga-Koro goal. “But… to return to this after all I have seen?”

“It would have been a proud victory for all the Matoran to witness,” insisted the golden being, uncurling a claw and extending a patient arm in the direction of the spectators. “The first of many moments for you to stand among the Toa you so admire. A proud memory to return to in your quiet moments, though I suspect it is one of many memories you wish to have played out differently?”

Hewkii allowed his gaze to follow the kolhii ball as Hahli intercepted it from Takua, the familiar rhythm of play reaching to him but failing to grab purchase.

“When I became a Toa, I put my mind and muscles to work for a greater cause,” lamented the Po-Matoran, feeling the compulsion to speak impressed upon him. “I used everything I had learnt in the stadium - accuracy, agility, strategy, strength. It made me a worthy Toa and a formidable warrior… but not good enough.”

“You completed your mission but at the cost of a teammate,” remarked the golden colossus, with the familiar softness of shared tragedy. “I sense much ambivalence in your heart on the subject - to return from the depths of the Pit when another did not. Shame weighs heavily on you, Toa of Stone, even with your great strength. You can raise mountains and split great megaliths of rock, but the blame you carry is heavier still...”

Hewkii said nothing for a long time, watching the five Matoran chasing the kohlii ball, waiting for him to score the first goal but ultimately lose all over again. This moment was everything he had fought to protect and yet reliving it did not bring him peace.

“I will spend the rest of my days wishing I had been more prepared, that I had acted sooner and pushed myself further. Perhaps then he would still walk among the living...”

Voyaging further north, the Toa Hagah and their mount eventually finished their journey in the industrial islands of Xia, Stelt and Zakaz, escorting the few remaining Rahi to safety. Reconvening with Bomonga along the way, the Toa of Earth greeted them with troubling news that had reached him from the surface of Spherus Magna, relayed to him by a Matoran messenger.

“Karzahni the tyrant… murdered by a Toa,” mused Kualus in disbelief as the group began the long journey south. “This can only sour relations with our allies. Toa Tahu will need to act quickly to disavow Lesovikk or we may very well lose the allegiance of the Glatorian warriors.”

Met with vague murmurs of agreement, the Toa tried not to acknowledge the troubling legacy of the Toa Cordak of air, who, for as long as any of them could remember, had served as a cautionary tale that even the earliest generation of Toa was not infallible.

Filling in each leg of the journey with conversation, the Toa Hagah recounted tales of their recent exploits, paying particular attention to Bomonga’s journey through the Nui Caves. Lacking his usual penchant for levity though, Iruini listened passively, watching as crumbling chunks of the Great Spirit Robot fell from the heavens overhead.

Now that the atmospheric controls had been deactivated, the Great Spirit Robot had become a sterile environment. There was no heat or light anymore, and what power had remained in auxiliary generators slowly ebbed away. Radiation from the ruptured propulsion system was gradually seeping into the shattered domes. What had once been dome structures and underwater chutes had collapsed, pieces of jagged metal rained from the sky as though a second Great Cataclysm had rocked the world.

With careful application of Kualus’ Kanohi and Pouks’ handling, the Toa took it in turns to direct the Rahi Nui, which followed their lead begrudgingly through the open plains of the southern isles. On occasion, it seemed as though the mighty Rahi might have been listening to the tales recounted by the Toa, but none of their number were naive enough to believe it wouldn’t tear them asunder and make a break for the wilderness the second they let their guard down.

When at long last the Toa approached the rupture in the Matoran universe through which they had entered, they were approached by a Su-Matoran gatekeeper and informed that they were the final recovery team to return.

“So this is it then,” sighed Bomonga ruefully, standing on the threshold of Spherus Magna. “We Toa Hagah… the final beings to leave the world that has been our home for over 100,000 years?”

“The Toa who stayed behind for the Rahi nobody else would rescue,” murmured Norik, turning to the Rahi Nui and motioning to the distant jungle visible through the fissure. “Go now, noble creature. Make your home in this fresh, new world that knows not the tyranny of Makuta. Mata Nui knows you deserve it.”

No sooner had Kualus deactivated his Kanohi, the Rahi Nui made a break for the treeline with gleeful determination, stinger tail swaying freely in the temperate breeze. Just for a moment, it paused to look back at its saviors, only to duck away and disappear into the foliage.

“Are you sure that was wise?” asked Iruini, watching the fragile world with concern. “What’s to stop the Rahi Nui from settling in a population center and terrorizing the villagers?”

“I suppose we are,” observed Pouks, slapping the cynical Toa of Air on his back. “But the Rahi Nui has lived long enough in captivity. It must be given the chance to roam free.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice…” grumbled Iruini under his breath.

Together, the five Toa Hagah stepped back onto Spherus Magna for the first time in living memory. Basking in the rays of a real sun, they angled first in the direction of the Great Ocean. Traveling south at the Su-Matoran’s instruction, they headed for the outline of the city. Jungle Agori could be seen working alongside Matoran, herding Rahi into makeshift pens with fascination and erecting colorful tents stocked with Madu Fruit and Thornax.

Passing a bustling tradepost, the Toa soon discovered merchants peddling the unclaimed salvage liberated from the Matoran universe.

“So many fascinating new creatures…” marveled Kualus, gazing in wonder at a Gravel Hawk being trained by an Agori handler. “I wonder what stories the fliers of this world might tell.”

Pouks smiled at the thought. It seemed Kualus would be kept busy adding more avian dialects to his ever-growing arsenal.

Meanwhile, Norik felt the urge to pause in his tracks and gaze deep into the heart of the marketplace, sensing something familiar amongst the rusted detritus hauled from the toxic oceans of the Silver Sea. He gazed for a long moment, trying to make sense of the strange impulse that gripped him before shuffling along.

Eventually leaving the tradepost behind, the Toa began to feel grass springing up underfoot. Not long after, the Toa found themselves in the outskirts of an ancient Agori settlement, with a large arena in the center. Calculating that they were near the planet’s equator, the Toa found themselves on the paving tiles of a modest village square. Many of the Matoran who had inhabited Metru Nui could be seen in the courtyard, crafting supplies and hauling building materials with the help of Ussal.

Almost immediately, they were greeted by the familiar visages of Turaga Dume and their sister in arms, Toa Gaaki, who stood waiting at the base of a large statue carved in the form of an ancient Glatorian warrior.

“Welcome to Spherus Magna, brothers,” announced the Toa of Water, clanking fists with Pouks, who bounded forward eagerly.

“Looks like we missed the heavy-lifting,” chuckled Kualus, gazing out at the small huts that had already sprouted up against the sprawling landscape.

As the Toa greeted each other, Norik passed a small bundle to Dume. He did so without speaking, nodding solemnly to the elder of Metru Nui. Iruini noticed the discreet exchange and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“This is one of the ancient structures of the Agori people,” said Gaaki, proud to show the progress made in the absence of her teammates. “They lost their homes in the Battle of Bara Magna. Once named the Citadel of the Great Beings and inhabited by our creators, now home to all who follow in their teachings.”

“A brave new world,” remarked Bomonga, who was still eyeing a large arena standing in the distance. “The will of the Great Spirit finally made real...”

Turaga Dume’s features stiffened as he wrestled with an uncomfortable question.

“What news do you bring of our former home?” he finally asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

“The great Nui Mountains of the northern continent now hang from the skies like stalactites and the air grows as foul as The Shadowed One’s breath,” boasted Pouks, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the Matoran universe. “But we kept our word: no one got left behind.”

Nodding, the Turaga’s Kanohi dipped in thought. He did not share in the Toa of Stone’s abundant optimism.

“To think that all we have ever known - the histories we have recorded and cities we have built - is gone,” he lamented, examining the tip of his staff as though it contained some unbroken portion of his shattered homeland. “To have fought so hard to wrestle Metru Nui from the grips of tyranny only to see it destroyed - I cannot help but feel a profound loss.”

“It is an unfortunate charge to be a Toa presiding over the dismantling of the land we were once sworn to protect,” agreed Norik, recalling the centuries they had spent rebuilding the island after the Visorak invasion. “But it was never the chute lines and Knowledge Towers that made Metru Nui worth fighting for - it was the Matoran who gave it life. So long as they survive, the City of Legends can be rebuilt on Spherus Magna.”

“Besides,” interjected the Toa of Air, planting his Rhotuka shield in the ground and leaning against the rim. “We get to write the Wall of History anew. And with no shortage of Chroniclers these days, there’s no excuse for misspelling Pouks’ name this time!”

“Then by the wisdom of Iruini, welcome to the Great Reformation!” proclaimed Dume, extending his arms in gesture to the new world. “Toa Tahu’s leading council already shows tremendous promise in bridging the divide between the Matoran and Agori. Infrastructure and early settlements are cropping up. Spherus Magna has the makings of the paradise we fought so hard to win.”

As the Toa Hagah exchanged greetings and traded stories with their old friend, Gaaki found herself lingering on the Toa of Air’s words. Knowing the vague outline of future events, she was no stranger to the forces of destiny. Over the years, she had predicted great triumphs and bitter tragedies looming on the horizon, but none stung her in quite the same way as the knowledge she now held.

Resolving to stow her doubts for the time being, the Toa of Water allowed herself a moment to share in the occasion. There was great beauty in the reunion she now witnessed, and she chose not to disturb it. Thoughts of tomorrow could wait.

Today, they were Toa Hagah.

Chapter 4

When Nuparu opened his eyes, he stood in the confines of a cluttered Matoran workshop, instruments and components strewn across the stone tiling. A jumbled array of gears, pulleys and circuitry filled the room as furniture might decorate a home.

Inspecting a piece of metal with concern, he turned to Velika, the eccentric Po-Matoran crafter he had been working with. Together, the two inventors had labored through the night, drawing up schematics for modified launchers and chemical equations for a new substance to counteract the Zamor Spheres. While he initially had reservations constructing yet more weapons, he knew that these tools would win the Matoran their freedom from the Piraka.

As Velika chirped an idiom about Colony Drones and Visorak while he welded, the Toa Inika of Earth gazed at the Matoran with unseeing eyes. Suddenly feeling very much like the assistant in the partnership, he attempted to shake off the fog that hung over his thoughts. He had lived through this experience once before - in fact he often returned to it in his quieter moments. Just hours ago, he had been a Matoran himself, escaping the twisted realm of Karzahni in a stolen Toa Canister wearing a Kanohi that was not his own. Now, he had the power to rescue the Toa Nuva and the chance to do something more.

Nuparu worked for many hours, applying his keen mind as though he were trapped in that flooded cave in Onu-Koro all over again. Pressure had been an effective motivator in the past, but he toiled now with the dedication of a Toa entirely consumed in the dignity of his craft. When at last he resurfaced, his armor peppered with oil and metal filings, he felt the proud gaze of his patron from the doorway of the hut.

“You do not share in the same hesitations as your fellow Toa,” murmured the golden being, admiring his disciple at work. “Perhaps it is your wild imaginings - your willingness to build - that holds the key to forging this new world, brave Nuparu.”

The Toa of Earth smiled in response, though there was a sadness in his expression. In his life, he had built a great many things in service of the Matoran, but recent revelations had come to trouble his guilty conscience. A lifetime ago on Metru Nui, his Vahki and Kranua had adapted beyond their programming, abducting and indoctrinating Matoran to Makuta’s grand scheme. Although he did not remember his unfortunate role, Turaga Vakama’s tales of rogue automation in Metru Nui inspired a deep shame.

Next he had created the Boxors, sturdy battle machines constructed from the components of fallen Bohrok to allow the Matoran a fighting chance against the swarms invading their island. He had built the first from a damaged Gahlok trapped in a cave with Onepu and Taipu, constructing many more in the weeks that followed and turning the tide of the Bohrok War in their favor. Despite their triumph, the recent discovery that the Bohrok had begun life as Av-Matoran had tainted this memory too, for it was a victory built on the bodies of Matoran.

“If you refer to my past inventions, Gilded One, Spherus Magna would be a lot better off without such dark designs,” murmured the Toa earnestly. “Besides, there are a great many other inventors more deserving of this honor.”

“It is true, you have been the architect of devastating machines in the past,” intuited the golden entity, reaching his clawed fingers down to admire a completed prototype with tender curiosity. “But you need not limit your talents to weaponcraft. Consider this most curious contraption: a weapon designed to heal. Just imagine what other instruments you would have me create - what wonders a city pulled from the imaginings of this same crafter could offer the world...”

Nuparu held the Zamor Launcher in his hands, examining it now with indifference before his gaze shifted to the open doorway. In the distance, he could see the sheer cliffs of Voya Nui Bay and the outline of the Canyon Fortress. He saw Garan and Jaller watching the sunrise with trepidation, unsure what fresh horrors the morning would bring. He could smell thick volcanic ash riding the wind as the Piraka continued to drain Mount Valmai of its molten core.

“Many Toa of Earth before me have looked to the past for their answers,” lamented Nuparu, returning to his labor with grim obligation. “I can’t dwell too deeply on events that have already come to pass. I can hope only to be remembered for some distant act of heroism rather than the atrocities born of my designs. Perhaps then I’ll know well enough not to build that which should never be.”

The golden entity’s features did not change though it was clear this had not been the answer he had desired. He sensed a sinister coil of tragedy within Nuparu and the other Toa Mahri. Perhaps they had become too tangled in the weight of their own shared regret to serve as the architects of his new age.

“Your creations could not have saved him,” he murmured in a tone close to compassion. “All the weapons in the world would not have changed the outcome of that battle, but this is no cause to abandon your craft.”

Nuparu thumbled a component with fondness then slotted it into the Zamor Launcher. To his immense irritation, the device still wasn’t working to Velika’s specifications and he couldn’t discern why. The Matoran of Voya Nui would continue to slave away, silently screaming for him to achieve the means of their liberation from the Piraka. Something continued to escape him…

“Would your fallen brother want grief to stand in the way of innovation?” continued his golden patron, gliding closer into the dream as though he were wading through water. “Or would he have wanted you to strive for new heights as the inventor of the new world he gave his life for? Was that not his final wish in the end?”

“I doubt he’d planned that far ahead,” lamented the Toa, breaking the casing of the Zamor Launcher apart to investigate the clumsy circuitry again. “I’ve relived that battle a thousand times and I’ll suffer it a thousand more. It will cling to me long after I’ve run out of inventions and my hands have become gnarled and jittery with age. I just wish…”

The golden skinned being hung with bated breath as the Toa teetered on the cusp of voicing his desires. After a moment passed, the Toa only sighed.

“It was his sacrifice to make,” he muttered to himself with a sad and distant smile. “No invention would ever have changed the outcome. After all, there are enough weapons in this world already, and not enough left to wield them...”

Swinging his shield upwards, Kualus deflected Ackar’s Flame Sword as it arched down, metal striking metal. Twirling the hilt of the blade in his wrist, the Glatorian readied his weapon once more.

“Your swordplay is remarkable,” marveled the Toa of Ice, fixing his Rhotuka shield to his arm and hefting his Sub-Zero Spear with both hands. “You work that blade as though it’s an extension of yourself.”

“And you have expert coordination,” observed Ackar as Kualus swung the tip of his spear in retaliation. “But you won’t be fighting for Vulcanus anytime soon - not with those moves.”

The Toa considered the challenge as he parried another blow. Some distance away, Iruini and Kiina were engaged in a fast-paced contest of speed and agility that appeared evenly matched.

At Norik’s behest, the two Toa had entered into an arena tournament to keep their wits sharp. Kualus had never been the strongest of warriors even before his mutation into a Rahaga. After his tussle with the Rahi Nui, he welcomed the practice. In Iruini’s case, Norik had hoped the experience would teach him a lesson in humility -- the Toa of Air had become dangerously overconfident of late.

Feinting a jab with his spear, the Toa of Ice instead swung his shield, ramming Ackar in the chest with a heavy clank that forced him back on the defense. As they fought and dodged and blocked, their movements became like words in a familiar language and Kualus soon found himself falling into a rhythm. It was easy to mistake Ackar for a teacher, but things were rarely as they seemed and many Glatorian had underestimated him in the arena.

Delivering a sweeping blow to his opponent’s legs, Kualus watched as Ackar vaulted over the spear. Reflexively, the Toa of Ice sidestepped to cover his right side, slipping behind the arena champion and striking again with his shield.

“A shield is only as strong as the arm that wields it,” continued the Glatorian, leaping into the air and slamming his armored heel down hard, forcing Kualus to block at an uncomfortable angle. From his new position, Ackar fired a Thornax fruit at a nearby rock, which rebounded to strike the Toa in the back of the head, knocking his Mask of Rahi Control clean from his face and sending him stumbling forward into the sand.

A decisive finishing move.

Two referees - an Agori named Kirbold and an Onu-Matoran named Taipu - bounded forward to call the match in Ackar’s favor while a smattering of spectators cheered around the makeshift arena. Panting for breath, the Toa of Ice scooped his Kanohi back up and turned to congratulate his opponent.

“You must have a hard time finding worthy opponents,” he conceded. “How does a Glatorian learn to fight like that?”

“By picking himself up after every defeat and molding his experiences into wisdom,” answered the crimson warrior, proudly clanking the Toa of Ice’s fist. “You fought well, Toa. You possess great skill with that spear, but you are not yet ready to wield it with your full strength. It will be an honor to defend Spherus Magna alongside you.”

Kualus considered the words with a distant smile, only then feeling the overwhelming desert heat begin to set in. It was true, returning to his old body after so many years spent at the height of a Rahaga had left him uncoordinated. Although he had been restored to his old body for some time now, many of his old techniques still felt cumbersome and he lacked the grace he had once possessed when wielding his Sub-Zero Spear. On occasion, he harbored doubts he had become too rusty to wear such polished armor, though Gaaki and Bomonga were always quick to remind him that his skills lay elsewhere.

His thoughts were abruptly brought back to the arena when a spray of sand struck him, kicked up by one of Iruini’s bursts of elemental energy. As Kiina ducked and swung with her Vapor Trident, the Toa of Air blinked in and out of existence, reappearing only to strike. Constant cyclones and tendrils of moisture ravaged the makeshift arena. Anxiously, Taipu and Kirbold looked at each other with expressions of resignation.

“Let us see how your brother in arms fares against a Glatorian of Tajun,” wagered Ackar in something close to pride. “Kiina is one of the most accomplished warriors this side of Tesara, a true child of the arena--”

“I’m gonna squish you like a Scarabax!” yelled the Water Glatorian, hurling a hardened globule of moisture at the emerald Toa that blew a hole in the sand. As a volley of curses escaped the warrior’s mouth, Ackar’s expression grew hard.

Taking the bait, Iruini reappeared to deliver a swipe with his Rhotuka shield.

“Spend less time trash-stomping and more quick-dodging and you might last another round!” he jeered, dipping into Le-Matoran Chutespeak for added effect.

Bracing, Kiina stiffened her joints to receive the next impact, which glanced off the aerodynamic grooves crafted into her armor. Resisting the full force of the attack, she readied herself to respond. Discerning footprints in sand she had spent her entire life fighting in, she staked her Vapor Trident into the ground a moment before Iruini blinked back into existence. Tripping over the hilt of the weapon, Iruini stumbled and fell.

“How… how could you possibly have predicted that?” wheezed the Toa of Air, staggering back to his feet. “I barely gave you an opening!”

“An opening is all it takes,” answered Kiina, using the momentum of her Vapor Trident to knock Iruini off his feet once more. “In the arena, you make every blow count.”

But Iruini had not entered the ring with the intention of losing. Kualus caught a dangerous twinkle in his eye that told him the Toa of Air would not relent until he had achieved something.

Mustering a second wind, the emerald Toa stowed his Rhotuka shield and gripped his Cyclone Spear in both hands, his eyes never leaving Kiina’s. He darted forward, conjuring Air currents to propel himself closer only to find his opponent keeping pace.

“Stay in your lane,” challenged Iruini, taking a firm swipe with the tip of his weapon. “Don’t try to out-dash a Toa of Air!”

Rather than spar with words, Kiina caught the shaft of the spear with the prongs of her trident and twisted it free of Iruini’s grip. Stunned by the sudden loss of his tool, the green Toa chose instead to make the most of his free hands and teleported closer, delivering a sharp blow to the empty space his opponent had been standing an instant before. By the time his feet returned to the ground, Kiina was wielding both her Vapor Trident and his Cyclone Spear.

“All that energy but no rhythm,” observed Kiina with a triumphant smile.

Raising both weapons, the Glatorian conjured walls of solid Air and Water that struck Iruini like an avalanche. The Toa rocketed some distance beyond the arena and crashed in a heap, the force of his impact carving a crater in the terrain and spraying sand across nearby laborers.

“Iruini!”

Kualus surged forward and dropped to his knees as the emerald Toa stirred. The fight knocked out of him, he glared at a distant speck as Kiina planted his Cyclone Spear in the sand.

“Nothing but wounded pride, I suspect,” murmured Ackar, moving closer to investigate as the Agori match officials urged Iruini back to his feet.

“Though the truest measure of a warrior is how he copes with defeat,” broached Kiina with a warning glare at her opponent, extending a hand for him to take.

For a long moment Iruini remained in the sand, unwilling to meet her gaze until at last he allowed her to hoist him upright again.

“Well fought,” he conceded before snatching up his weapons and vanishing in a blip of desert air. Kualus closed his eyes in silent agony.

“Don’t judge him harshly,” he sighed, feeling the familiar ache in his temple that so often came with apologizing for Iruini’s rougher edges. “My brother can be a sore loser - especially in a contest of speed. After all we have experienced under Makuta’s rule - well, I had hoped training might have given him a place to focus his frustrations.”

The two Glatorian exchanged knowing glances.

“A little dramatic for my liking,” said Kiina with a shrug. “But there’s no harm done.”

Ackar’s expression remained grave.

“He reminds me all too well of a warrior I once called brother,” he lamented with a sharp edge in his tone. “Anger is no substitute for discipline, and victory is nothing if won without honor. This is a lesson Iruini must learn, lest he walk the path of the exile and cross a line he cannot return from.”

The Glatorian’s gaze lingered on the open desert as he spoke, a great many words left unspoken. When at last he turned to leave with Kiina at his side, Kualus was left wondering exactly how his intentions had so spectacularly backfired.

In the jungle depths of Tesara village, Bomonga was grappling with a conundrum of a very different variety.

He had always harbored a special fondness for nocturnal and insect Rahi. In fact, he’d spent many long nights watching the creatures and reading whatever documentation the Makuta had bothered to retain from their experiments. Each Toa Hagah had a specialist area of Rahi knowledge and now it had come time to pass that knowledge on to a new generation of handlers and Archivists, who would care for and relocate the creatures they had rescued while they were gone.

Where the Toa Hagah were going, or indeed how long their quest to liberate the Toa Mahri from their captivity would take, was something Bomonga did not know yet. In preparation for their journey, he and Norik had spent the morning demonstrating what they did know: the different techniques for wrangling, riding and nurturing as many Rahi as could be named under the sun. He hoped that their quest would be a straightforward one, but there was no guarantee that he or his teammates would be returning from the mysterious Skakdi Fortress Gaaki had described. If any of them were to be lost in battle, so too would all the knowledge they possessed be lost forever.

“Toa Bomonga!” exclaimed an eager Agori of the jungle tribe, who had taken a particular interest in Rahi and their settling habits across the new landscape. “Reports are coming in of some bird-creatures taking up residence in the cliffs of Tajun’s shoreline. Sounds like they’ve established a stable colony on the cliffs, near the eastern ocean.”

The Agori was Tarduk, a keen explorer who knew a great deal about the geology of Bara Magna. He listened with great interest and took in everything he could about Rahi and the Matoran universe with fascination. In his eyes, a mythical world of crystalline skyscrapers interspersed with ancient temples and vast tropics was taking shape.

“What kind of bird-creatures?”

“They’re flightless and seem to have blasters on their wings. Most unusual. Are they a threat?”

The Toa of Earth smiled at the thought. Kualus would be most pleased to hear this.

“Thank you, Tarduk,” he said. “The Manutri will do well in Tajun. Now come closer, I have something special to show you.”

Tentatively, the jungle Agori approached the Toa and peered down into the makeshift holding pen that had been dug into the earth beneath them. In the depths below, Bomonga watched the occupants of the pen stir, their shadows obscuring the sunlight. Three Rahi could be seen in the murky depths. The closest snapped its jurassic jaws and growled at them from deep within its throat, splashing water at the walls of its enclosure with its talons.

“Your world has spawned a great many predators,” observed the Agori, instinctively recoiling. “What’s this one called? The Pit Dweller? The Cave Chomper? The Jungle Slizer?”

“Close,” conceded the Toa with a chuckle, for it was a well-established fact that the Makuta had never had any aptitude for naming their creations. “These creatures are the Swamp Stalkers, a lesser-known freshwater reptile that thrive in marshes and rivers.”

He paused, allowing the Agori a moment to situate the Rahi into an ecosystem he was familiar with. Tarduk scribbled his words down on a scroll of parchment in a bewildered fervor. In truth, he knew very little about the Swamp Stalker. Reptiles were more Norik’s area of unhealthy obsession. It had been spawned by a Makuta long-since slain in some historic Brotherhood conflict and had never established itself in the wider universe, like the Takea or Nui-Jaga.

“I don’t suppose they’re anything like a Sand Stalker?” asked Tarduk, considering the strange creatures in terms he could understand.

The Toa of Earth took another look at the Rahi, trying to imagine them thriving in a desert and finding the notion too alien to entertain.

“I don’t know what that is,” he admitted. “Are those the red dinosaurs your bone bandits ride?”

The Agori shook his head. “They remind me a great deal of the Spikit. Perhaps they have shared ancestry?”

“Not likely, I’m afraid,” said the Toa, making a mental note to explain how Rahi were created in more detail when or indeed if he returned. “With their armored, lizard-bodies, muscular tails, and powerful jaws, it’s obvious that they are envoys from a distant past - perhaps even one of the earliest examples of a predator from our universe. But the creatures of Spherus Magna are far older than even the First Rahi. Such magnificent beasts… we never did find an ecosystem for them to inhabit. They just ended up settling in swamps across the southern universe.”

“Can’t imagine why,” said Tarduk, pulling a sour expression as the reptile thrashed about, teeth glinting through its hungry smile. “Let’s talk diet. I’m guessing they’re omnivores based on the… well, everything about them.”

Bomonga scratched his chin in thought. He remembered a great deal from the Archives, but the Swamp Stalkers were a rare specimen only sighted in small pockets around the world. Whatever partial record the Archives had held of them was lost to time now. That said, he’d done his share of rotations in the Destral Rahi Pens…

“If I recall correctly, they have an especially low metabolic rate,” he said, gesturing to an uneaten fish that had been thrown into the enclosure some time ago. “They don’t need to eat as much or as frequently as other predators, but they will eat anything.”

“Fascinating,” marveled the Agori, finding new confidence to gaze into the pit and watch the Rahi basking in the mud. “The swamps are starting to get crowded, but we have lots of space in this new world to choose release sites. These Swamp Stalkers will fit right in with all the Night Creepers and Mud Crawlers.”

With silent pride, the Toa of Earth watched a sapphire-armored Agori calm a Burnak with a Bula berry then mount it, almost exactly as he had demonstrated to the Ussalry and Gukko Force earlier. Perhaps there was hope for the Rahi on Spherus Magna after all.

Bidding farewell to Tarduk, Bomonga turned in search of his teammate. After some investigating, he found the Toa of Fire in a heated discussion with some Rahi wranglers, one a Vortixx, the other a Steltian noble. From the expression on his Kanohi, they could only be discussing one Rahi.

“They lived on Stelt, they are ours to conserve!” challenged the Steltian, daring the Toa to disagree with her. “They practically lived on the Scrap Coast for thousands of years. How dare you move them without our say!”

“Watch yourself,” snapped Norik with a frosty edge to his voice. “It was your kind who endangered them in the first place.”

“That may be, but don’t think we’ve forgotten about the last time you tried to resettle them, ignorant Toa!” she countered, raising her arms in exasperation. “Those crabs are a vital component of Steltian ecology! Without them–”

“--There is no Stelt anymore,” said the Toa of Fire, cutting the noble short. “We’re on a new world with a vastly more complex ecosystem to balance. You would do well to remember that.”

They were, of course, speaking of the Hahnah crab, a specimen of deep ocean crustacean-Rahi that Bomonga and his teammates had lost many sleepless nights over in the past. Rarely did they venture close to the surface but a whole cluster had been drawn to aquatic heat sources around Stelt 4,000 years ago and were captured in trawling nets. With no game left to hunt on the surface, the Steltian nobles had taken to the seas and harvested the Rahi relentlessly, prizing their durable crimson shells as grotesque trophies.

With such high demand for the species in such a precarious habitat, marine biologists in Ga-Metru had begun predicting the species' early extinction. At a time when the Brotherhood was no longer willing to create Rahi, it had become the unfortunate charge of the Toa Hagah to end the poaching trade. Although they had apprehended the poachers and relocated the crab-Rahi further south, the intrusion into Steltian affairs had served only to hurt relations between Toa and Steltians. Scars that lingered still to this day. Norik had even purposefully omitted all mention of the Hahnah from his own Rahi guides, for they were a dark reminder of a time when the Toa Hagah had been agents of the Brotherhood’s dirty work.

The Steltian opened her mouth to retort only for her Vortixx colleague to hold her arm in caution.

“The past transgressions of our Steltian brethren notwithstanding, we have further concerns about the future of our wildlife on this planet,” said the Vortixx coolly. “It’s no secret that Rahi can’t reproduce using the same biological processes as these Spherus Magna species and without the Makuta… can there be any hope of creating more Rahi?”

Norik looked the pair over with suspicion before deciding the question warranted a response.

“Short answer: no,” he conceded. “Not much we can do about that, I’m afraid. Whatever secrets the Makuta kept followed them to the grave.”

“Then perhaps the great Toa Hagah will continue their legacy?” asked the Vortixx, something about his silky tone suggesting he had no interest in conservationism. “I heard that your team worked closely with the Makuta. Surely you know better than most how to create more Rahi? If not, then what hope is there for creatures like the Hahnah?”

Norik’s features hardened as he fixed the Vortixx with a steely glare.

“Perhaps you overestimate our involvement… and our expertise,” he said frostily. “The Toa Hagah served the Brotherhood as a protective detail, not as laboratory assistants. True, we often handled Rahi, but this does not entitle us to any say in their genesis, nor does it equip us with the knowledge or resources needed to create more. It is not the place of Toa to dictate such things.”

“But without the Makuta, there can be no new Rahi,” observed the Vortixx, uncurling his fingers in gesture to the field of Rahi pens. “Give it 1000 years, give it 10 years, without intervention we would see the extinction of hundreds of species in our lifetimes. Is there nothing that you Toa Hagah will do to prevent this? Or does moral obligation only extend to relocating crabs?”

Now more than ever, Bomonga wished he could retreat into the Archives. Instead he could only stare from a safe distance at Norik’s thunderous expression.

“I have no doubt that Rahi populations will dwindle in the years to come, but there’s no shortage of Rahi in the wild today. We may not understand it yet, but the science of the Makuta will be known to us in years to come. Someday we may be able to breed more Rahi.”

“Someday,” repeated the Steltian, spitting at his feet. “A responsibility for another time, then. How very much like a Toa to find a short-term fix instead of dealing with the larger problem. I suppose you can’t be faulted for that, though. You’ll probably be living a comfortable life as a Turaga by that point.”

Norik said nothing.

“I suppose there’s nothing to do but enjoy your golden years, wise one,” purred the Vortixx, turning to leave. “Perhaps when those years have come, you will wonder if you could have done more...”

As the pair made their exit, Bomonga inched closer to his teammate. It was a rare sight to see the Toa of Fire subdued to silence. He wondered if he should have approached sooner. He wondered if it could have made a difference.

But Norik didn’t dwell too deeply. He smiled at his brother-Toa in greeting as though nothing had happened.

“Ignore them,” he chuckled. “They only wanted to find some new means to monopolize the Rahi-creation game. We don’t have time for that.”

Bomonga gazed into the distance, watching the Vortixx and Steltian arguing near an enclosure of Dagger Spiders.

“Seemed pretty personal.”

“I suppose it was…”

The Toa of Fire shrugged his mighty shoulders and smiled earnestly at his deputy, as though the accusations had not stung him. Bomonga supposed that was what it meant to be Norik. He was protective of others to a fault; Rahi, Matoran, his fellow Toa. When so many looked to you for answers and protection, weakness was a dangerous trait to show.

“They raise some valid points though,” said Bomonga begrudgingly. “We Toa Hagah are different from other Toa. I wonder what destiny holds for us… maybe taking over where the Makuta left off isn’t such a bad idea?”

Norik’s smile remained but his eyes dulled at the thought.

“Only time will tell our purpose, brother,” he said. “But when that day comes, it should be the Matoran and Agori who determine what creatures inhabit their world. Not the Makuta, not the Vortixx, not the Steltians, not even us…”

“Another vision, Gaaki?” sighed Pouks, hurling a pebble into the stream and watching it bounce across the surface. “We need to fix you up with a different mask.”

The Toa of Water shot her teammate a barbed look.

“We are not having this debate again,” she cautioned. “My visions have helped us out of many a tight spot in the past. Not even you can discount the usefulness of glimpsing the future - predicting traps and battles we would otherwise blunder into.”

“Which we blunder into anyway trying to avoid whatever it is you’ve seen in the first place!” protested the Toa of Stone, shaking his head. “You once warned Kualus he would fall from a great height. For weeks he was afraid to leave Destral and stayed far away from the cliffs. And where did he end up? Strolling into one of Makuta Vamprah’s Rahi traps not ten paces from our barracks! I tell you, no good comes from knowing the future.”

Gaaki scowled and glared at the shimmering river, its surface reflecting golden ripples across her mask. She had ventured off with Pouks to map the source of a large lake, hoping to confide her doubts in him. But the Toa of Stone had not moved on from his frustrations and time spent as a Rahaga had not softened his opinions on prophecy.

After a long moment, Pouks looked beside her, somewhere in the space next to her Kanohi.

“Alright, fine,” he brooded. “Whatever you’ve seen this time obviously has you rattled. So what are we dealing with? Will war grip Spherus Magna? The return of Makuta? Will Onewa finally carve us those statues he promised?”

The Toa of Water smiled at the final suggestion. For a moment she allowed the question to hang while she savored the memory, taking in the river carved into the landscape before it became trafficked by boats and bridges spawned across it.

“I should really wait for Norik,” she groused, finally flinging the pebble she’d been rolling over in her hands for some time now. It made a modest bounce before joining the riverbed.

“If it affects my team it affects me,” insisted the Toa of Stone, fixing her with a glare. Something about his tone left little room for flexibility.

So Gaaki relented, sharing a full account of her vision. She described the gilded armor and the battle she and her fellow Toa were locked in, their triumph and glory, the absence of Iruini and the strange Toa who would come to stand in his place. Pouks listened with grim focus.

“Unsettling to say the least,” he confessed, using his powers to conjure another handful of stones. “There’s not much specific to go on there. This could take place in 1000 years or tomorrow.”

“I can’t imagine it’s too far off,” murmured Gaaki, tossing another pebble only for it to disappear straight beneath the water’s surface. “Perhaps I’m interpreting it incorrectly? Perhaps it is a warning only that another Toa will join our ranks in a battle where Iruini cannot.”

Pouks pulled a sour expression.

“Your visions rarely take the shape you predict, but this one seems pretty clear,” he said, narrowing his eyes in the sunlight. “Sister… you never come to me unless you want someone to cast doubt on your predictions. You already know what the vision means. I think you’re telling me to confirm suspicions you don’t wish to voice.”

Pulling his arm back, he flung another pebble into the stream, only for a tentacle of water to rise up and snatch it out of the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught only the slightest movement of Gaaki’s hand before a grin spread across her features.

“Surely Iruini can’t still be having the same doubts as last time?” he asked, dark thoughts now creeping into his mind. “He quit the team before. He wanted us to do more to protect the Matoran than we were doing with the Makuta. Then we rescued a whole island of Matoran from the clutches of the Visorak. Why would he leave us now that the war for the future of all Matoran is finally won?”

“Disobeying Norik, challenging The Shadowed One and the Rahi-Nui alone...” reflected the Toa of Water. “Perhaps our progress moves too slowly. Perhaps there are simply too many personalities at play, wrestling for control.”

“All we can do is watch over our brother-Toa,” shrugged Pouks, his tone one of simple resignation. “And trust that Iruini will make the right choices… whatever they may be.”

Gaaki considered this for some time. She watched as a Waikiru lumbered its way onto the opposite river bank as Pouks walked on, all the while wondering why the forces of destiny now saw fit to fracture another Toa team around her.

Chapter 5

When Hahli opened her eyes, she felt the frigid waters of the Pit against her armor.

The Fields of Air were a churning battleground of Keras crabs and Venom Eels, the two armies of ocean creatures converging on the city of Mahri Nui. The distant cries of Matoran guards could be heard as the Rahi overwhelmed their defenses. Hydruka brayed in protest as ocean predators descended on their territory.

This was the conflict the Toa Mahri of Water found herself thrust upon in her moments of anger. The first time she had truly felt the potential of her powers.

Hahli let cry a thunderous roar before driving her Protosteel Talons into the ground, summoning the elemental energies of the Pit to heed her command. When she was satisfied that her weapon was adequately charged, she swung her blade up again, conjuring a burst of water that sliced through a cluster of Venom Eels. Their bodies scattered and shrieks filled the ocean around her.

It did not concern her that she had already fought this battle before. The Toa of Water was thankful of the opportunity to launch herself into the fray, hacking and swooping and gliding through the startled army of Venom Eels. Before long the water around her grew mirky with the swirling black ooze of the creatures’ innards.

Not far away, her teammates struggled to adjust to their new bodies. Jaller and Kongu especially were proving gangly and uncoordinated in the water, their weapons cumbersome and their movements imprecise. Sensing weakness, the straggling few Venom Eels began to cluster around her teammates. Turning to face the second wave, Hahli trusted her fellow Toa to fend for themselves.

Keras crabs now advanced on the Fields of Air, their mottled carapaces camouflaged as they skulked through the airweed. The Toa Mahri of Water made quick work of their forces, her talons tearing through severed thorax and cartilage. Calling upon the powers of her Kanohi Faxon, she harnessed the bio-electricity of the surviving Venom Eels and sent it rippling through the water, frying the Keras in their shells.

Hewkii hollered a quip that she did not care to hear.

For hours, Hahli tore through the waves of ocean predators, her aggression unyielding and ferocious. Over time, she found the battle shifting and dragging her along with it. In pursuit of something she could not grasp, she drifted further from the familiar Fields of Air, until the plateau and her teammates melted away completely and she found herself in the open waters, an inky darkness stretching down beneath her.

Down here, there was no ocean current. The only light came from deep volcanic vents. These were ancient and primordial waters inhabited only by former prisoners of the Pit. It was here that Hahli had faced Mantax and wrestled for possession of the Kanohi Ignika in a contest of wills. And it was here she found herself again, this time with the golden skinned entity at her side. His presence filled her with pride as she turned to face the mounting legions of sea predators that were amassing behind her.

“You Toa Mahri truly are like no Toa to have come before you,” observed the golden being to whom she had pledged her fealty. “To make your home at such unfathomable depths, to rally against such insurmountable odds, to contend with creatures like the Barraki - you are each a treasure trove of such delicious desire and guilt. It is… appetizing to say the least.”

“I knew you would understand, Great One,” said Hahli, blanketing the walls of the cavern with a spray of Cordak missiles that rained jagged debris on the forerunners of the larger Rahi army. To hear such praise from the golden being filled her with new vigor.

“You desire conflict, that much is clear,” continued her patron, waving his hand and conjuring a platoon of Pit War Tortoises and Manas for the Toa to fight. “Such boundless barbarism would give even the Piraka pause, and yet it is all you yearn for…”

Powerful tendrils suddenly snaked around the Toa’s ankles and wrists, dragging her deeper into the heart of the churning army. Wrestling for freedom, she found herself caught in the tentacles of a Giant Squid.

“These Rahi… have tormented me… my whole life,” growled the Toa of Water, flexing her wings and loosening the squid’s grip on her arms. “Only difference is now I have the strength to fight back!”

Prying her arm free, Hahli flexed her Protosteel Talon and used it to tear through one of the Giant Squid’s arms, as though it were a glade of Harakeke on the golden shores of Ga-Wahi. The creature’s mottled skin had been flushed with angry courage, now it was blanched in terror. In the Pit, a scuffle like this would usually end in submission, one predator jetting away, perhaps missing scales and bloodied from the encounter. Already it could sense that the strange Toa had no stomach for mercy today.

“You have worn many masks,” purred the golden entity, watching with satisfaction as Hahli continued to cut her way into the legion of sea creatures. “Assistant Flax Maker, Kolhii Champion, Chronicler. How empty those titles seem in light of all you have experienced. What more is there beneath the surface, that only these unknowable depths can reveal?”

As Hahli continued to lay waste to the armies of the Barraki, she considered her place in the vastness of the wider world. In that moment, the Matoran of Mahri Nui she fought to defend seemed very remote.

“In this world I have more power than I have ever known,” she observed, waving her hand in imitation of the golden being and smashing two Manas together. “For as long as I can remember, the Turaga told stories of power through Unity, the greatest of all their virtues. Of course, they were only half-truths. Comfortable tales to keep us busy until the Toa returned. Well, no more waiting! Down here, I discovered what it meant to be my own protector. To fight my own battles! To triumph!”

“Such beautiful chaos…” remarked the golden being, a proud twinkle in his eye as he watched his disciple hack and slice and weave her way through the remaining Rahi. “I wonder how deep your desire extends… do you desire, perhaps, to see this battle through to its bitter and inevitable conclusion?”

Hahli shifted her position as the world once again blurred around her and she was dragged deeper still into the abyss of the Pit. Now she was on the ocean floor, wading above the sunken ridges of the Razor Whale’s Teeth. There was little light at such abyssal depths, but she was all too familiar with the creatures that skulked these shadows.

Six silhouettes peeled away from the jagged terrain and circled around her. Watching them move so freely through the water filled her with a crimson fury.

“A chance to put these creeps in their place? Naming Day’s come early...”

With an almighty swing of her arm, Hahli lost herself to the tempest stoked up at the sight of the Barraki. She charged her elemental energies and launched an arcing wave of force from the edge of her blade. She sliced through their shapeless forms with the finesse of a Plasma Ray, the brute strength of a Keras, the frenzied bloodlust of a starved Takea...

She fought for what felt like hours, contending with the full might of all six Barraki. For every blow she landed, she received three or four in return. Ehlek’s electricity was a devastating force to contend with, as were the relentless strikes of Pridak and Takadox. Vicious gashes spread up her arms and across her chest as Carapar wrestled to clip her wings with his claw. Even as she reached out to command the water, she felt the tentacle of Kalmah coiling around her.

When at last the dust settled and her Cordak Blaster ran empty, she yielded.

Hobbled, she glared up at the twisted warlords, fighting the sensation of Mantax’s pincer locked around her throat. The battle had been hard fought and she was not without injury, but she had dealt as much out as she had received. If the Barraki hadn’t been bloodied before, they certainly were now.

“You relent too easily, Toa of Water,” admonished the golden being, raising a hand to swat aside a chunk of rubbery cartilage that had once been the tip of Kalmah’s tentacle arm. “If you truly wished to indulge the temptations of boundless barbarism that this Pit has to offer, if you truly believe redemption to be so beyond your reach, why do you resist the darkness? Even in these waters, so far removed from the gaze of the Turaga and Toa Nuva, you are governed by the virtues of your Great Spirit.”

Hahli gazed up at the ocean stretching above her head, feeling the involuntary urge to ascend to the safety of the surface. She hadn’t noticed, but once it was pointed out by the golden entity it became obvious. Was it truly her darkest dream to return to the Pit and seek vengeance? Was this the life she wanted? Or did some part of her still yearn for what she had lost somewhere along the way?

In that moment of clarity, she suddenly remembered how she had left the Pit in the first place and a sobering wave of realization washed over her. It was as chilling as it was abrupt. The battle was long since over. It had been fought and won… but at such terrible cost. The urge to fight waned and dulled, replaced by a new desire to confide in her gold skinned patron.

“All I want… is to return to the surface,” she finally confessed. “To venture back to civilization with some shred of goodness and know that I haven’t become indistinguishable from the Barraki...”

“A Skakdi Fortress...” repeated Kualus. “How did they even have time to build such a thing? It’s been three days since Makuta fell!”

At Gaaki’s request, the Toa had gathered in the ruins of an ancient arena to discuss the grim duty that now lay before them. Coupled with Kopaka’s own report that he had left before traveling north, the mission ahead filled them with trepidation.

One Toa in particular had taken the news worse than most.

“This... golden being... he sounds like no ally of the Makuta,” grunted Toa Tahu, who had paused his evening obligations to send them on their way. “But if he champions the cause of Skakdi - if he truly is keeping the Toa Mahri captive in his fortress - then he leaves us little choice. We must act tonight to save Jaller, Hahli and the others!”

“And that’s where we come into things,” murmured Pouks, cricking his neck. “Get in. Get the rookies. Get out. Another classic Toa Hagah rescue mission!”

“Are you sure we’re the right team for the job?” asked Gaaki, weighing her Tidal Spear in her hand. “We’re not exactly the Toa we used to be.”

Tahu nodded knowingly.

“Believe me, Gaaki, if the Toa Nuva weren’t already scattered to the wind on their own missions, we’d storm that fortress ourselves,” he said, reaching for his sword but stopping short. “No doubt the Turaga would be hot on our heels too. But the truth is there are no other Toa we trust with this. The Mahri need rescuing and only the Hagah can do what needs to be done.”

“If we’re lucky, we might turn up to find the Skakdi have bashed each other to pieces already,” chuckled Iruini, leaning on the edge of his Rhotuka shield. “Problem solved!”

But the others didn’t share in his bravado. Kualus had never been one to seek conflict and Gaaki seemed to have misgivings she would not voice with the team. Bomonga’s features were a careful study in neutrality. Despite the preparations they had made, hesitation still hung heavy over the Toa.

“So little is known about this fortress or this band of Skakdi zealots,” pondered Norik. “Rescuing the Toa Mahri while going completely unnoticed will be a delicate process to say the least. And the risk if we are caught...”

Before Tahu could open his mouth to respond, Iruini interjected.

“Norik, quit blowing smoke,” he snorted dismissively. “If we mastered the Destral Fortress then we can handle any dungeon the Skakdi can throw at us.”

“This is no laughing matter, Iruini,” snapped Norik, his patience with the Toa of Air wearing thin. “By Gaaki and Kopaka’s own accounts, the Toa Mahri inhabit those walls by choice. If they have been coerced or influenced as we suspect, how could we get them out unnoticed? How can we be certain that we won’t meet this same fate ourselves?”

“Norik’s right,” added Kualus. “Best case scenario, we’d just be throwing more Toa at this guy. We can’t just go blundering in or Tahu will be here tomorrow assembling a team to come rescue us.”

Iruini glared at the Toa of Ice.

“So what? You’d rather we sit back and do nothing? That didn’t work out so well for you four last time, did it?”

“Iruini...” cautioned Pouks with a low grumble.

“How about we make sure the Klakk have soft enough nests? Have another round of sparring with the Glatorian perhaps? Let the Toa Mahri stay captive until a better time? We need to act now and draw a line in the sand!”

When he found no support from his teammates, Iruini turned to Tahu.

“Lines in the sand can be redrawn all too easily,” said the red Toa sympathetically. “Usually by whoever has the sharpest stick. We are building something greater here, Iruini. Don’t set out in search of battle if it can be avoided. We can’t allow the resentments from the old universe to follow us here.”

Coming from Tahu, the words stung but the Toa of Air recomposed himself quickly. His expression suggested he had more to say but instead he lapsed back into silence, staring longingly at the distant coastline and the fortress that protruded from its shimmering cliffs. The only structure to be seen for mio around.

Norik nodded a silent thanks to Tahu then glanced at Gaaki, who shook her head. There were no helpful glimpses of the future to be had.

“What do you think?” he asked quietly, turning now to Bomonga.

“A tough call,” answered his deputy frostily, mighty arms folded. “For better or worse, we’re the only Toa available or capable enough for a rescue attempt. We’re duty-bound to intervene tonight… but I’ve had my fill of being controlled for one lifetime. We can’t fall for the same spell that the Toa Mahri are under. Until we have a plan for this golden Skakdi pariah and his mind games, I’d have to agree with Kualus.”

“Perhaps we should consult Trinuma and the Order of Mata Nui operatives,” suggested Gaaki. “From what I hear they’re skilled in the art of mental shielding.”

“It’s a shame we couldn’t catch that Toa of Psionics Onua sent north,” grunted Pouks. “Might’ve been useful to have him come along.”

As the well of suggestion dried up, Tahu regarded each of the Toa slowly.

“I don’t make this request lightly,” he finally said, the glare of the sunset catching the ridges of his Kanohi Hau. “But we can’t delay any longer. There are Toa in danger and tonight you six are their only hope of freedom. Whatever doubts you hold, you must take heart and trust in your abilities. You are Toa, after all!”

“But are we the right Toa for the task ahead?” countered Norik, voicing the words he sensed in the mouths of his teammates. “The only reason we survived the reign of Makuta at all was because we were under his spell. Our best fighting days are long behind us and after so many centuries spent as Rahaga… we were fortunate to be given this second chance at being heroes, but this is a fight we aren’t likely to win. And should we fall…”

Tahu placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his meaning clear.

“Norik… you were heroes long before Vakama first picked up a disk launcher. Now you have this chance to define your own destiny - you can either chase the Toa you used to be or, for the first time, you can decide for yourselves the destiny of the Toa Hagah!”

The words stirred something deep within Norik. With ancient eyes, he looked upon his teammates.

“Are you to be the legacy weapons of Makuta after all this time?” continued Tahu, now addressing the full team. “Is that who you are today? Or will you use this second chance to make a difference? To be the heroes the Toa Mahri need? To help those who can’t help themselves in Mata Nui’s name? You are Toa and the time of Toa is now!”

Pouks grunted in approval, strapping his Rhotuka shield to his back. At his side, Gaaki exchanged glances with Kualus. The mission was perilous, but to be a Toa was to face danger. It was an oath they had all taken long before Makuta had come knocking on their doors.

“Well put, Tahu,” said Bomonga. “But what of this golden entity? Should we fall under his sway…”

"You won’t,” said the Toa of Fire with a simple shrug. “You Toa Hagah have won your freedom from Makuta countless times over. You’ll find a way… where wisdom and valor fail, all that remains is faith.”

Hearing those words, Norik felt a wave of confidence swell within his chest. It sounded like something he would have told Vakama a lifetime ago.

“Then, in the name of faith, you shall have our six blades!” he announced firmly, raising his Lava Spear to accentuate his point. “Like the Toa of ancient legend…”

“Tales of this night will be a glorious first chapter for the new Walls of History,” said Tahu with a steely nod. “But the mission must be undertaken with precision - stealth is paramount. What say you to these terms, Norik?”

The Toa of Fire nodded cautiously before a thick smile overcame the features of his Kanohi.

“Far be it from me to shrink away from a challenge…”

A beat passed before Tahu and the rest of the Toa Hagah groaned in disgust.

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” asked Gaaki, rolling her eyes.

“600 years,” grinned Norik. “Worth every second...”

Chapter 6

When Jaller opened his eyes, he was floating in the sunken basin of the Pit. There were no Cowie shells at these depths. Only the bleached husks of armor and hardened coral.

The Toa of Fire watched passively as the battle transpired around him, his limbs moving as though in a distant imitation of battle. His Power Sword glanced against the carapace of a frenzied Keras crab. At his absent behest, his Hahnah companion fired a spread of Cordak missiles at the advancing sea creatures.

Craters appeared in the rock around him, explosions rattling his armor. Jaller stumbled to his feet, still amazed he and his teammates had survived as long as they had against the armies of the Barraki.

“Golden one, are you there?” he yelled, raising his sword to repel a Takea shark angling towards Hahli. “Why have you brought me here, to relive this battle?”

At his command, the waters swirled and the warm visage of the golden entity filled his vision. His presence was reassuring. He would not have to relive the horrors that were about to unfold alone.

“Of all the battles you have fought, of all the memories you have shared, this is the one your teammates linger upon,” observed the nameless titan, his expression one of knowing empathy. “Your spirits coil and knot around these events. Kongu, Hewkii, Nuparu, Hahli and now you too, Jaller. You all return here in the end. Why is that?”

Somewhere over his shoulder, Kongu cried out in wordless exclamation as a Giant Squid latched onto him, dragging the Toa of Air towards the darkness. Watching his teammates move to defend him, Jaller felt the energy of the battle shifting.

“The sacrifice was never mine to make, great one,” answered Jaller, feeling the hollowness of his words as he spoke. Not long ago, he had thrown himself in front of a Turahk on the steps to Kini Nui, giving his life to protect Takua. He didn’t care to relive the experience if there was another way.

As though he intuited the weakness of Jaller’s words, the golden entity shook his head. Only then did it strike the Toa how much he looked like Turaga Vakama. This was a leader he could follow.

“You deny and bargain and plead against the forces of history. You flirt against the endless possibilities of what could be but never truly give voice to those desires. What will it take for you Toa to truly dream...?”

A darkness loomed in the depths of the Pit. Jaller looked up to see the Barraki warlords descend upon the Toa, joining the frenzy of metal and flesh. He watched as Pridak tore into Nuparu, as Ehlek and Hewkii tangled in each other’s electric snare. Even his Hahnah companion had joined the battle at the universe’s end, launching Cordak against the oncoming wave of the Barraki.

But this time Mata Nui had a different destiny for the Toa Mahri. As the Great Spirit breathed his dying breath and all color faded from the universe, the Kanohi Ignika sank into the shale at Jaller’s feet.

He knew what needed to be done.

“Perhaps if it had been me instead…” he murmured, pulling the Mask of Life from the ocean floor and staring into its empty eyeholes. “But I was never meant to carry the mask. That great destiny was meant for...”

Wordlessly, he looked back at the other Toa. His teammates seemed so very far away now, fighting to push back the Barraki. He remembered the scene well - he had been prepared to unleash a Nova Blast - but this time he was not in it. This time Mata Nui had given him a different calling.

No… this was his choice.

“You are their leader, Jaller,” murmured the golden colossus at his side, gesturing to the Ignika that he now grasped. “But above that, you are their brother.”

“I... I can’t,” stammered the Toa of Fire, though he felt the truth of the golden one’s words press upon him. “And even if I could, these events have already come to pass. We can’t change what has been.”

The golden warlord allowed a grin of satisfaction to stretch across his gilded face. The Toa was on the cusp of voicing his darkest imagining.

“Ask, my dear Toa, and you shall receive,” he said gently, motioning towards the great fissure in the ocean floor. “There is still time to save your friend. You could not ask any of the Toa under your command to make a sacrifice such as this. Such a calling… it goes beyond duty. This is a calling of destiny and today that destiny is yours!”

Stealing one final look at his teammates, Jaller gripped the Ignika in his arms and stowed his sword. If he moved quickly, there could still be a chance to save Mata Nui and prevent the horrors to come.

He shot forward, using his powers over Fire to propel himself into the abyss, the anguished screams of Pridak echoing after him. With the grace of an Alkini player, he slid over the edge of the fissure and found himself tumbling into an immense waterfall, Voya Nui still sinking into place overhead.

There was still time.

He tumbled through the water until even that evaporated away, leaving only cold air rushing up to meet him. He was falling into an immense cavern obscured by mist and stalactites - larger than Ta-Koro, the Pit, larger than the entire island of Mata Nui, larger than anything he’d ever seen!

A pang of fear struck him, for he could not see the ground beneath him. The further he fell, the more momentum he built up. If this didn’t work then there’d be no surviving this encounter.

But one way or the other, he supposed that was the point.

Tearing off his mask, he pressed the Ignika against his face and closed his eyes. If any Toa were to give their life in service of Mata Nui then please, by the will of the Great Beings, let it be him.

“I wish it had been my destiny instead!” he gasped, feeling the golden energies of the mask surge through his body. For a moment he struggled, then closed his eyes and prepared to embrace the stillness of death.

The wind faded slowly and the world around him was filled with a blinding light. Jaller felt his body become one with the Ignika. He was part of something greater now. The very lifeforce of the Great Spirit. He could feel it…

Mata Nui was still dead.

Jaller wrenched his eyes open and jolted forward, panting for air. He lay sprawled on the marble floor of the golden one’s fortress. Some distance away, his patron was standing but his attention was elsewhere. He stood with his mighty arms outstretched, bathing in the radiant glow of unfulfilled dreams.

“Great One,” spluttered the Toa, thumbling around and finding no trace of the Ignika. “I don’t understand… it didn’t work. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save Mata Nui!”

“Destiny cannot be so easily unwritten,” chuckled the golden entity, absorbing the golden energy into his form. “It is not within my power to change events that have been or to bring back those who have been lost.”

Jaller searched about the chamber for some trace of the vision he had experienced - some way back into the waters of the Pit so he might try again. He found only the cold reptilian features of the wonderous golden entity staring back at him.

“Had you taken the mask to the Universe Core in your brother’s place then your sacrifice would have been for naught, my disciple,” he continued, as though he too shared in the heaviness the Toa now felt in his chest. “You would have traded your life and failed to revive the Great Spirit all the same. Your teammates would have perished, and soon after the universe too would have plunged into darkness. The mask did not choose you as its bearer and yet you wish it had - to spare your brother? I think not. You wish this because you cannot bear a life knowing circumstances could have been different. Perhaps in time that wound will heal but for now you desire it all the same…”

“I don’t understand,” stammered the Toa, still lucid from the effects of the illusion. “Why would you hide the truth? How long – how many times have you shown me this vision?”

The golden being’s smile was wide but by no means friendly.

“True, I have kept you from understanding,” he explained, raising his mighty head as though scanning the chamber for his next meal. “Days and days you Toa have run, and I have moved the scenery in pursuit of that which you desire most. But today, little one, you have finally given me that which I have desired all along. In the end, Jaller, you will always be that lost Matoran on the mountainside crying out for someone else to show you where your destiny lies…”

When Jaller finally found the strength to raise his head, the golden Skakdi had vanished. He was left alone on the chamber floor to piece his broken thoughts back together.

As midnight ticked over, the Skakdi sentries grew disgruntled, for they had been anticipating an assault under cover of darkness all evening. While the soldiers hungered for battle after holding defensive positions for so long, their generals assured them that adversaries would inevitably reveal themselves, for the construction of their fortress had not gone unnoticed.

Electric floodlights played across the stretch of arid coastline, illuminating the jagged rocks and fjords. The anticipation was palpable in the air as the Skakdi gripped their weapons and thought of new and barbaric ways to kill the army of Toa that no doubt approached.

“I hope they have decent weapons,” bristled one of the sentries on the outer perimeter. “I broke my axe on a Toa a few months ago. I figure they owe me a weapon.”

“Lies!” snorted a Skakdi of Plasma beside him. “You’ve never even seen a Toa in your life!”

Rumbled, the Skakdi’s grin tightened as his compatriots laughed.

Exploiting the opportunity, the dark outline of Toa Bomonga slipped past the post while the sentries argued, sticking to the stonework above so closely that he appeared little more than a shadow caught in the torchlight.

Stealth had always been second nature to him and he had honed his skills to become an expert in the art of infiltration. For the purposes of this assignment, he had used his elemental powers to camouflage himself with a fine dusting of Earth, dulling whatever gleam his metallic armor gave off. Under cover of darkness, he was all but indistinguishable from the wall he now scaled.

Slinking over the rim of the first wall, the Toa pressed himself against a wooden barrel, gazing beyond the outer perimeter and into the interior for the first time. In the gray glow of the stars, he could see the main body of the fortress, surrounded by Skakdi grunts clustered in sparse groups around fortifications. They seemed to be of the impression that the buildings themselves were defensive elements.

Nearing closer, Bomonga watched the nearest sentry, who was sweeping an area of wall with a lantern, shining it on at predictable intervals, sweeping the arc of the ground in front of him then shutting it off.

Adjusting to the window of opportunity, the Toa lined himself up behind the barrel then dropped to the ground and low-crawled straight for a nearby guardpost. He budgeted five minutes to cover the distance, which was fast enough to get the job done and slow enough to get it done safely. The naked eye noticed speed and discontinuity. A Shore Turtle heading inward worried nobody, whereas a Rock Lion bounding in attracted everyone’s attention. So he maintained his speed, slow and steady, head down, no pauses. He made it through ten bio, then twenty, then thirty, then forty.

After forty-five bio, Bomonga knew he was no longer visible from the spaces between the buildings, but he stayed low all the way until his back was pressed against the structure, listening for a reaction.

Nothing.

Shimmying around with his back to the wall, the Toa found there were more dwellings on the other side. He had broken through the perimeter.

The sentries were all behind him now and they were all facing the wrong way.

Edging towards the inner keep of the fortress, he skirted across the open ground unobserved. Scaling another wall and finding himself in the narrow stretch of walkway between two posts, Bomonga squeezed himself through one of the battlements, running through the schematics of similar structures that he had infiltrated on behalf of the Brotherhood of Makuta. All too often, his targets were in the deepest bowels of such structures, held in the most defensible position.

As he approached one of the nearby panels, Bomonga soon learnt what the structures contained: the circuit boards and cables of server racks. A curious find and far too advanced for the Skakdi surely?

Unlimbering his shield, the Toa of Earth began charging a Pulse Rhotuka.

How very considerate of the Skakdi to build their generator on the side of their camp...

The shockwave crackled and pulsed, emanating from the center of the fortress with concussive force. Motors froze and wires crackled, circuitry fried across the entire facility. Electric floodlights fizzled out and shut off, plunging the structure into an all-encompassing darkness.

As one, the confused sentries cried out in surprise. Torches were frantically lit and spears thrown wildly into the night. Many of the guards were quick to discard their weapons, most of which were projectile in nature, snatching up swords and clubs and axes in their place.

All of a sudden, a cold wind prickled against the spines of the Skakdi, who had spent so long anticipating the arrival of the enemy from their comfortable vantage point that they had forgotten how easily things could go wrong.

The Toa had arrived.

Silently, four silhouettes flitted through the chaos, weapons still clipped to their backs and moving through the shadows. For the moment, they passed unseen by the Skakdi, who milled about in a panicked frenzy, their posts vacant. Guided by what little light was created by the flickering torches, the Toa Hagah merged with the darkness.

Making their way past the exterior wall, the Toa finally slipped into the inner keep of the fortress. Where a Matoran structure might have housed stalls and marketplaces for merchants to sell their wares, the Skakdi had adorned the area with industrial crates packed with munitions and weapons. There were Cordak missiles and Nynrah Ghostblasters no doubt looted from the ruins of the Matoran universe, along with all manner of blades and nets and Kanoka.

With the sentries now flooding to the outer perimeter, the passageways were sparsely covered. Raising her hand, Gaaki signaled the others.

“I don’t like this,” muttered Pouks in a hushed tone. “I’m sensing complex stonework beneath our feet, stretching all the way down to the ocean floor.”

“I feel it too,” added Gaaki, pressing her hand against the wall, her thoughts linked to the waves crashing against the fortress. “There’s something solid down there.”

“The handiwork of our missing comrades, perhaps?” inquired Kualus, eyeing the end of the corridor.

“I don’t think much of the architecture, but this entire structure is sitting on a solid rock layer,” muttered Pouks darkly. “The Skakdi don’t have the skill or the patience to build like that. I’d bet my bottom ten widgets that the Toa Mahri were involved in construction, unwilling or otherwise.”

“You’d win that bet,” came a familiar voice from behind them. Toa Bomonga stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the torches, giving Pouks the fright of his life.

Leaping from his perch in Kualus’ scarf, Norik reverted to his normal size and drew his Lava Spear. His teammates turned to him for instruction, faces grim.

“Jaller and his team could be in any number of places,” he announced. “As of yet, we still don’t know the nature of their involvement, whether they are prisoners or collaborators. Our objective is still unchanged: recovery.”

“And if they don’t want to be rescued?” asked Gaaki quietly.

The other Toa Hagah leaned closer, the bruises sustained during their last encounter at the Coliseum having only just healed.

“We don’t give them the option,” answered Norik sternly. “They’re coming with us, either by choice or by force.”

“That plan didn’t go so well last time,” said Pouks, gripping his Avalanche Spear tighter at the memory.

“If this mission was easy, Tahu wouldn’t have sent us,” said Norik, though he silently conceded the point. “The Toa Nuva have a special connection with these Toa, but they can’t answer the call right now. We must carry that responsibility in their stead, for our comrades, for the Matoran of Metru Nui, for Toa everywhere. We will bring our brothers and sister home.”

Extending his fist defiantly, the Toa of Fire watched five sets of knuckles connect in a perfect circle. He beamed admiringly at his team and their unwavering commitment.

Five fists.

The same realization dawned on his teammates as they looked around the circle then turned their heads to search the surrounding corridor.

Iruini was missing.

His smile fading, Norik let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, Iruini...” he muttered darkly. “I’m going to hurl that Kualsi so deep into the ocean even the Toa Mahri won’t be able to find it...”

Chapter 7

Flitting between the shadows, Toa Iruini pressed himself up against the stone wall and scanned the passageway. A lone sentry in orange armor stood in the darkness, bent over a box of supplies, muttering to himself whilst unscrewing the fastenings on a metal grille. At the sight of Iruini he hurried to his feet.

“Hey, stop!” he sputtered, reaching for a weapon.

“No.”

A powerful torrent of air came from the tip of the Toa’s Cyclone Spear, throwing the Skakdi hard against the far wall. He fell to the ground unconscious and the Toa advanced, picking his way around the inert lump. The effort of taking out the sentries quietly was disproportionate to the reward.

Iruini’s mind was a boiling crucible of emotions. For too long he had been saddled with the position that Norik had imagined for him, disagreeing with the Toa of Fire and his deputy at every turn. He wanted to use the skills that had first earned him a place among the Toa Hagah. He couldn’t predict the future or wrestle Tahtorak like the others, but what he lacked in raw power he compensated for with his own brand of precision and cunning.

When your teammates could grow to the size of an airship, you had to find ways to play to your strengths and keep pace.

But being a Toa Hagah hadn’t been like the recruitment posters. Iruini had spent his life guarding the dusty custodians of a forgotten status quo, unable to effect real change or expend his efforts in service of Matoran ideals. It was for this reason he had left the team originally, for he saw no future pursuing a cause he didn’t believe in.

Being reduced to the diminutive form of a Rahaga had done nothing to ease his frustration either, as had the months spent under Makuta’s illusion once he had finally been restored. For so long he had lacked both the power and the opportunity to let his anger loose. An overwhelming emptiness had grown in the pit of his chest, which now boiled into anger.

Spurned on his emotions, Iruini struck out with his Cyclone Spear, blasting the metal door with enough hurricane force to fell a Knowledge Tower. Teleporting his way into the room, the Toa found himself in a large chamber filled with startled Skakdi guards, who had been attempting to restore the lighting. Before they could so much as cry out in alarm, Iruini had pulled the air from the room entirely, leaving them to sputter and choke in personal vacuums while he marched on.

Delving deeper into the concrete innards of the structure, Iruini battled his way onward, taking the direct approach and fulfilling the only role he knew he was any good at:

Bait.

Finding himself confronted with the same metal door from before, the Toa of Air cursed, realizing he must have doubled around in a circle somehow. No doubt Pouks or Kualus would have picked up on the mistake sooner had they been in his position. Yet another reason to fuel the raging inferiority complex that twisted knots in his chest.

But the door opened a moment before his hand made contact, and Iruini realized all too late that it wasn’t a door at all. It was some great slab of metal he hadn’t truly noticed that now struck him in the chest.

Reeling from the impact, Iruini threw up his Rhotuka shield in defense. Before his wide eyes, the outline of his assailant sharpened into an all too familiar silhouette.

“Toa... Nuparu?” he rasped in disbelief.

The Toa of Earth pressed his Razor-Edged Shield down with the full strength of his muscles, his form still shifting back to full visibility. His ebon armor was sleek and streamlined, equipped both for the waters of the Pit and for low light camouflage. In the wide eyes of his Kanohi Volitak, there was only a hint of recognition reflected.

“I suppose you’re the reason the lights went out?” he challenged, pushing the bladed edge of his Protosteel Shield closer to Iruini’s mask. “That can only mean you’ve disrupted my generator… filthy Piraka! You’re trying to make me look bad in front of the golden one, aren’t you?”

Eyes widening, Iruini barreled to the side. He narrowly dodged the razor-edge of Nuparu’s shield, which slammed into the ground where he’d been pinned a moment before. It seemed the Toa of Earth wasn’t holding back.

“Nuparu, stop this!” he protested, using his elemental powers to cushion his fall. “We’re allies! You wouldn’t hit a friend, would you?”

THWACK!

The Toa Mahri swung his Protosteel Shield again, this time catching Iruini square in the jaw. A solid blow that rang through his mask. The answer was as painful as it was self-evident.

“All the wondrous inventions I was going to create for him!” raved Nuparu, retracting his weapon back so as to make use of its sharpened edge. “You’ve ruined it all! Now he’ll favor the others!”

“What’re you even talking about?” snorted Iruini, stowing his shield and gripping his Cyclone Spear in both hands. “I came to take you and the others home. Back to the Turaga. Back to Whenua! You remember Whenua, right?”

Nuparu’s eyes narrowed. With a growl, he put both hands behind his shield and rammed into the Toa of Air, pressing him hard against the floor. Not the response Iruini had been hoping for.

“Oh I remember him alright,” he growled, pressing harder. “I wasted my best inventing years digging tunnels for that old fool! But soon I’ll show him… I’ll dream up something big, something to wipe Makuta out once and for all! I’ve come too far for you, Whenua, or anyone else to stop me!”

“Makuta?” spluttered Iruini, using his Kualsi to teleport out of Nuparu’s reach. “Hasn’t anyone told you? Makuta’s dead! We threw a moon at him! The Toa Nuva, the Turaga, the Matoran - they’re all safe in a new world! Come with me and I can take you to them!”

But the Toa of Earth would not be swayed. Another swipe from his shield cut deep into the wall of the corridor, sending a spray of stone fragments after Iruini.

“I don’t care if the Great Beings themselves are outside playing kolhii!” he snapped, looming closer. “This is my purpose! My chance to be a part of something greater! Unless… you’ve come here to take my place!”

Iruini rolled his eyes and conjured a burst of wind from the tip of his spear, forcing his adversary to cover his face. He followed up a moment later with a sweep of the Toa’s legs. It would’ve been a devastating hit, but Nuparu saw it coming and slammed his shield down hard against the ground. Iruini winced as his foot connected with solid Protosteel.

“Or worse still... you’ve come to harm the golden one!” snarled the Toa Mahri. “If Makuta truly is out of the picture then I suppose you and the others have come to clean up your mistake. I should’ve known… you don’t care about his gifts or what wonders he can bring to the world!”

At Nuparu’s command, the roof of the chamber suddenly began to quake then abruptly caved, catching Iruini in a torrent of earthen debris. The Toa reeled back, conjuring a protective current of air to wipe the soot from his Kanohi. When his vision returned to him, Nuparu had once again vanished.

“Careful, you might wear out that Volitak,” he goaded, scanning the darkened spaces of the chamber. “Come out and fight me like a Toa!”

Sensing a flash of silver in his peripheral vision, Iruini somersaulted into the air, cartwheeling over the shifting form of his enemy and delivering another solid kick into Nuparu’s side. The maneuver earned him a webbed foot to the chest.

“Enough of this!” snapped Iruini, using his Kualsi to teleport into the air. Stomping on Nuparu’s mask for leverage, he vaulted through the chasm torn in the ceiling and up onto the next level of the fortress.

Right into the path of Toa Hahli…

“Guess Makuta never taught you to look before you leap,” challenged the Toa of Water, swatting at him with her Protosteel Talons as though he were a bothersome Protodite.

“Don’t you have Harakeke to hack?” snapped Iruini, dodging the swipe.

A sinister smile overcame Hahli’s features.

“Nope, just you...”

The barrage of attacks that followed took every ounce of focus Iruini possessed to dodge, and even then he barely escaped with his life. Hahli tore into him with a fury so vicious it threw him into full evasive mode. When at last he tired enough for the finishing blow to land, the Toa of Water roared and slammed her Protosteel Talon down with all her might.

When Iruini opened his eyes, he was holding two halves of his Cyclone Spear in each hand.

“You… you actually broke it,” he sputtered, cradling his Toa tool in disbelief. “That’s impossible!”

“You got clumsy, Iruini,” taunted Nuparu, lumbering his way up through the hole in the chamber floor to join his teammate.

Weighing up his options, the Toa of Air regarded his attackers carefully. Hahli’s wings twitched in anticipation as Nuparu raised the sharpened edge of his shield. In the end he realized there was no choice at all.

Dropping the two halves of his broken spear, Iruini called upon his Kanohi Kualsi and made a break for the other end of the corridor. Before the Toa Mahri could blink, he was around the bend and gone.

Iruini zipped through the winding hallways, throwing himself around the bends in the corridor. He ignored the startled Skakdi sentries that appeared before him. He’d spent much of his life patrolling the endless corridors of the Destral Fortress, which shifted and rearranged themselves depending on the day. With any luck, the Skakdi weren’t half the architects that the Makuta had been and the winding passageways would lead outside and away from his pursuers.

Two further wrong turns later, he spotted an open doorway and flitted through it to freedom. Only there was no floor beneath him on the other side and Iruini found himself hovering ten feet from the ground. He tried to absorb the impact with a cushion of air as he landed, but it still sent shocks up through his ankles. Clearly the stairs connecting this level of the fortress hadn’t been constructed yet.

That or he’d teleported through an open window...

Dusting himself off, Iruini found he was in a stone amphitheater overlooking the barracks below. The moonless black of the night could be seen above, studded with the occasional star. Torches hastily planted into the courtyard allowed him to make out the shape of the fortress.

“I’m not finished with you!”

Iruini whirled around as Toa Hahli slammed into him, knocking the breath from his chest and propelling him into a stack of wooden crates that lined the fortress walls.

“How did you–?” he sputtered, readying his Rhotuka shield and brushing the shattered wood from his armor.

“Fader Bull,” said the Toa of Water, tapping her Faxon. “There’s nowhere you can run that I can’t follow. And where you go, I’m sure the other treacherous Toa Hagah aren’t far behind! Don’t worry, we’ll find them too…”

Backed into a corner and panting for air, Iruini glanced to the left and watched as more of Hahli’s teammates emerged from the fortress. Whatever chance for escape he had entertained had vanished. First Hewkii, then Kongu, then Jaller and finally Nuparu.

As they entered into the torchlight, the shadows clung to their nebulous, aquatic armor, as though they were ascending from the darkest depths of the ocean. The Toa came in fast and Iruini felt rough hands haul him from his feet, snatching his Rhotuka shield from him. Hewkii and Kongu grabbed an arm each, straightening his elbows, holding him immobile. Then Nuparu came up behind, kicked his feet apart and wrapped his massive arms across his chest.

“Look what the Kane-Ra dragged in,” grunted Kongu. “A Toa Hagah who wrong-turned.”

“Like an assassin in the night,” said Hewkii, pressing down on his elbow. “He’s come for us, to take us away from the golden one!”

Jaller approached slowly and leaned close, Power Sword in hand. His eyes were hard and his breathing was slow and shallow.

“We’ve got a message for you,” he snarled.

To his credit, Iruini didn’t struggle, even as Nuparu wrapped a forearm around his throat. The blow came in before he could brace. Jaller raised his sword up above his shoulder, lined up like a spear, then rocked forward and jabbed the hilt hard and heavy against the ridge of Iruini’s Kanohi.

“We don’t need to be rescued...”

Chapter 8

When Iruini opened his eyes he saw...

Wait.

Where was he?

What was this place?

Why did his face hurt?

The Toa of Air shook his head, freeing himself from the clutches of unconsciousness that had claimed him. His weapons were nowhere to be seen and it felt like someone had been using his Kanohi to play kolhii. Reaching up, he felt a deep crack across the ridge of his mask. He reached into his mind for an explanation but it was like searching through fog.

The world around him was one of abstract geometry in disarray. Vague lines and angles, jutting and jagging. Dark blotches of black ichor obscured his vision, as though he had entered some space between worlds - or perhaps it was two worlds colliding?

Amidst the chaos of his memories, he was surrounded by silhouettes. They stood tall and severe, though none of them had any features and even their bodies were sketchy, almost see-through. Memories of events long-since passed now bled into view. The details were blurry. It was the ghost of a place he had once been only half-recalled.

Iruini clenched his jaw and felt a small anger flare up in his chest, sensing the presence of another consciousness brushing against his own. Over the course of his life, his mind had been the one thing he’d always been able to control, the only thing that had been entirely his. A memory of battling Dark Hunters with Norik faded then stitched itself back together, like shapeless liquid protodermis filling a container.

“Whatever mind games you’re playing won’t work on me,” huffed the Toa, rolling into a crouch and conjuring a gust of wind to dissipate the illusion. “Now show yourself. And on behalf of everyone already wearing gold armor, find yourself another color!”

An illusion that had depicted some of Iruini’s earliest memories as a Le-Matoran suddenly faded, revealing the gargantuan form of the golden warlord. From tooth to toe he bore no armor, only a collection of golden scales that would give even the Kanohi Dragon cause for envy. Standing at twelve feet in height, he dwarfed most Makuta though he shared more in common with the denizens of Destral than any other species Iruini had encountered. Still, it seemed he possessed the devilish grin of a Skakdi, the reptilian eyes of a Zyglak, the musculature of a Steltian laborer and the cunning physique of a Vortixx all rolled into one.

“Your will is stronger than most, Toa Iruini,” purred the golden abomination. “Most… intriguing. You resist my charm like no being ever has. Almost as though—”

“Shut up, you overgrown tooth filling,” the Toa shot back, watching the grotesque golden smile waver for an instant. He wondered if this entity had ever been interrupted in the course of his short life.

Feeling psychic tendrils wrap around him, the Toa Hagah struggled to remain free of the golden entity’s influence. He was all too familiar with the Makuta’s twisted illusions, but for some reason whatever hold the golden warlord had over him couldn’t seem to stick. The world around him was morphing into various shifting tableaus - forgotten snapshots of a life he’d already lived. But they felt incomplete. The walls of the vision were like smoke held by invisible boundaries.

“I always was the luckiest Ghekula,” he said, reaching out to touch a tender memory of the Toa Hordika and watching ripples form on its ghostly surface.

Golden lips parted into a smile, but there was nothing warm about it.

Iruini allowed his mind to wade back into recent memories. Not too long ago, he and his teammates had been caught under the sway of the Makuta’s hypnotic power, trapped in a powerful illusion where they had defeated their adversary on the cusp of his greatest victory. It had taken months for them to finally break free of the dream only to find themselves in the nightmarish reality where he had succeeded in his grand scheme and conquered the universe. Even then their freedom had only been granted in a rare exercise of mercy from a monstrous tentacled entity more ancient and terrifying than Destal’s most archaic mutation chambers.

Perhaps some flickering remnant of Tren Krom’s power lingered within him even now, warding off the influence of the golden warlord…

“So what happens next?” snapped Iruini, throwing up his arms in frustration. “Your spell won’t work on me but at least I finally have your attention. What do you want? What will it take to get the Toa Mahri free from your influence?”

The shimmering warlord stared into the void, his expression withdrawn.

“What do I want indeed…” he pondered, features growing sour. “I want that precious currency you Toa indulge in that cannot be counted or bartered. I want that which rounds your little lives with sleep. Do you know what it is?”

Iruini stared blankly at the golden figure, inviting him to elaborate. His glistening form reminded Iruini all too well of the polished Protosteel once worn by the Makuta. When no further explanation came he wagered a guess.

“Destiny?”

“No, Toa,” grinned the golden being as his features became green with avarice. “I want your dreams!”

As he spoke, the walls of the world fell away, muscled aside by a half-imagined landscape cast in shadows and harsh lights, shrouded in twilight and smog. The Toa found himself tumbling through a vortex of ghostly memories.

“The dreams of Toa,” continued the golden atrocity, wrenching Iruini’s perspective as though his mind were loose flax. “So worthy and righteous - your tales of squandered potential and guilt make for rich fantasy. Far more tangible than the nightmares born of my Skakdi followers. And you, Iruini, with your rage and bluster and ambition… I could swim in your darkest desires for years to come...”

As he tumbled through the spiral of fractured illusions, Iruini found himself giving shape to the world around him. Crashing through familiar scenes on Spherus Magna, Nynrah, Odina, Metru Nui, Destral, he saw lines that might have been trunks of trees, sheer angles that might have been Visorak webs, silhouettes that might have been old friends, but all abstracted and simplified. A maelstrom of old and impenetrable shadows.

The golden tyrant couldn’t make a vision stick, so now he was hitting Iruini with an empty psychic canvas to fill in the blanks himself… and it was working.

He was sinking through a tunnel of ghoulish shapes, falling helplessly into a pit lined with the broiling bodies of Matoran he’d failed to protect in his lifetime. In the dim and distant glow of a dying light, he could see that the phantoms were his teammates, caught midway in their mutation between Toa and Rahaga, twisted and gnarled. They coiled around him, joints bent in the wrong direction, moaning through gaping and wordless mouths, pressing him down, deeper into the churning cauldron of darkness and screams.

They clawed at him. They blamed him. This was all his fault!

“So you’ve been feeding off the dreams of the Toa Mahri?” yelled the Toa of Air, fighting off the fragmented specter of Gaaki as she reached for him amidst the wave of half-dreamt memories. “Hitting them with illusion after illusion - baiting them into dreaming up your next conquest? Well I wish for them to be free from you! Haven’t they been through enough?”

“Do not linger on my disciples too long,” came the amorphous answer, echoing through the gaping mouths of his teammates. “They have come before me already and given voice to their secret longings. Alas, they sought only to bury themselves in simpler times and dull the loss of their fallen comrade. The Toa Mahri all eventually wound up desiring that which I cannot restore…”

“Not exactly selling yourself,” goaded the Toa, booting the gnarled fingertips of a shadowy Pouks. “What makes you think you’ll enjoy any better luck with me? You can’t even fix me in a decent illusion!”

“This is a vision of your own making, Iruini,” chided the voice, this time through the mouth of Kualus. “What do you want? What does a Toa unshackled by such anger yearn for in his darkest moments? What delicious, unanswered wishes lurk within your soul?”

“I wish for someone who eats dreams for breakfast to come knocking on your door!”

The golden entity’s smile grew thin. The brilliant light that surrounded him dulled as the darkness rose up to meet him. It was suffocating.

“Relent to me!” he roared, his voice now coming from Norik’s misshapen Kanohi. “Cease your foolish resistance and open your mind to the possibilities! I could grant you any desire you yearn for with a wave of my hand! Why must you Toa be so endlessly stubborn?”

Against his better judgment, a thought did occur to Iruini in that instant. He tried to push it down but it resurfaced all too easily. As the misshapen forms of his teammates crawled across him, as the screams of the damned rose up to meet him, he knew only weakness.

“I wish…” he began.

He thought of brave Pouks and wise Kualus as they wrangled the Rahi Nui together. He had only been in their way. In fact, his reckless ambition to tame the beast himself had landed his teammates in serious trouble. What if things had been different and Kualus had been crushed while he had charged?

He thought of cautious Gaaki crafting her visions of the future and how easily he dismissed them. How easily he dismissed her. The Toa of Water had reached out to him many times over the years, but Iruini had never cared for her sympathy. He’d always been antagonistic and prickly whenever she approached him with kindness.

He thought of stoic Bomonga struggling to keep the peace. So steadfast and dependable and still so unwilling to see Iruini’s perspective. He was a champion of lost causes - a lover of unlovable Rahi - and still he didn’t understand what needed to be done. Had he forgotten how to make the hard choices? Or perhaps it was he who had never considered the gentle giant caught in the crossfires of every dispute.

“I wish that…”

He thought of valiant Norik, who had chased him down that fateful day when he quit the team. Conniving Norik who had barked orders at him ever since and sought to shackle him with a destiny he didn’t want. Crafty Norik, trying to press him to fit that same grim mold of Toa who had come before him, dismissing his tactics and refusing to take necessary risks.

He thought of his teammates when he had discovered them trapped in that cage, their empty eyes looking to him for salvation. The sacrifice he had made to protect the Avohkii all those years ago and how he would not have made the same decision twice.

He thought of the years of inaction wasted on Metru Nui, stalking the Visorak from afar, humbled by the limitations of his own body. Falling captive and used as a bargaining token in another Toa of Fire’s delusions of grandeur, as though his role in the world meant nothing more.

He thought of the years of his life spent in service to the very Makuta who had toppled the Great Spirit. The overwhelming shame of his complicity. The frustration that his teammates did not feel so culpable in the atrocities they had committed in the name of the Brotherhood.

“I wish... I didn’t have to be a Toa Hagah anymore.”

“That’s it, Iruini’s off the team for good this time!” snapped Norik.

“Why... in the name of Mata Nui... didn’t you think to share this vision with the team?” asked Bomonga.

When no answer came to the Toa of Earth’s question, Norik fixed Gaaki with a dark glare. Whatever excuse came froze in the Toa of Water’s throat. Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her head.

“I’m sorry, Norik,” she pleaded. “You know how my visions can be. Sometimes they turn out to be nothing– ”

“You don’t get to make that call!”

“Easy, brother,” grunted Pouks, placing a firm hand on the Toa of Fire’s shoulder. “Vision or not, Iruini’s choices aren’t Gaaki’s fault.”

“Besides, he’s left us a helpful trail,” observed Kualus, still examining the unconscious Skakdi sentries strewn across the chamber floor. “We need to press on, while they’re still out cold. While we still have the element of– ”

Without warning, eyebeams singed the wall of the chamber, followed by a series of Zakazian curses. Pouks and Bomonga threw up their shields and fired off a volley of Rhotuka at their attackers.

"Intruders!" barked the sentry who had spotted them. "Blast 'em to bits!"

"We can't stay here," yelled Gaaki, shifting her focus to the corridor ahead. "Too great a risk of being flanked. And we're running out of time!"

Norik grimaced. It was time to accept that whatever advantage they had gained by sneaking about in the shadows was gone. There was still one advantage in their favor: the Skakdi cared a lot more about the fortress than they did.

"Pouks, make it rain!" he ordered.

With a grunt, the Toa of Stone tapped into his elemental reserves and commanded the ceiling to shatter. With an almighty crack, a deluge of mortar and structural debris came crashing down onto the sentries. Abruptly, the laserfire ceased.

It seemed no alarm had been raised and the footsoldiers hadn't thought to call for backup. There was no reason to think the other Skakdi knew to expect them.

Not yet at least.

Atop the walls of the outer fortress, sentries gathered their weapons and clamored to their posts. As they thundered about shouting orders at each other, one of their number froze in his tracks and gazed out towards the open ocean. In quick succession, his comrades noticed and turned to investigate as well.

“What in Irnakk’s name is that?”

“How should I know?”

A red light glimmered beneath the waves. At first, the guards thought it was an underwater craft or some strange new oceanic creature that inhabited the waters of this alien world. When it broke the surface, they found themselves staring at a radiant orb, which ascended from the waves into the air above. It lit up the night sky with a sickly crimson glow, as though it were a brooding sunrise. Those guards with x-ray vision leaned closer while the others cupped their hands to protect their eyes, each vying to be the first to report on the floating orb.

“I think there’s… someone inside that thing.”

“That’s ridiculous? It’s so small!”

“Who cares? Shoot it down!”

The warriors raised their weapons and began firing, for curiosity was not in their nature. Laser eye beams mixed with concussive streams of Plasma, Water, Stone and Sonics peppered the surface of the crimson orb, though they did nothing to slow its advance towards the fortress. In fact, it continued to expand as immense tendrils snaked from its mass. One by one, the Skakdi forces lowered their blasters. All around them, silhouettes of enemy combatants appeared within the fortress walls,

“I hate this planet!” growled one of the Skakdi, watching in horror as the monstrous crimson entity glided over the fortress walls, flanked by her army of shadow Toa.

Annona had arrived.

Without warning, Bomonga’s pace slowed.

“I sense something ahead,” he murmured, brow knotting in concentration. “A pulse vibrating through the walls. But it’s… unlike any tremor I’ve felt before.”

“I’m picking it up too,” said Gaaki, her mask glowing. “Something is coming… riding on crimson waves in the sky above. A red star with vast tentacles. A stealer of dreams with an ancient hunger.”

“Whatever it is, it’s coming in hot,” yelled Bomonga, suddenly pressing both hands against the walls of the corridor. “Brace yourselves!”

An instant later, the ground beneath their feet shook and the fortress lurched from a great tremor. Pouks slammed his feet into the ground, riding the shockwave out as though he were surfing. The others weren’t quick enough to react and were thrown by the earthquake.

“Maybe we give you the Mask of Clairvoyance next time,” grumbled Norik. He picked himself off the ground and turned to his sister-Toa only to discover her expression was one of pure terror.

“We need to get out of here!” she babbled, stumbling to her feet and beckoning her brothers down the corridor.

As the dust settled, the five Toa ran through the passageway. At last they reached a staircase leading up to the fortress’ keep and out into an open promenade. Whatever Skakdi soldiers remained were locked in personal illusions, fighting off a swarm of imaginary foes.

Staggering out into the central courtyard, they ground to a halt, now finally seeing the scarlet mass looming in the sky above the fortress.

“So much for stealth,” said Pouks, pounding his fists together and making no attempt to hide the grin that spread across his features.

“Is that… the red star?” asked Kualus, shielding his eyes from its intensity. “I’m no seer, but it seems a little close tonight.”

“I guess it’s Gaaki’s stealer of dreams come searching for a midnight snack,” said Bomonga. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage. Break Jaller and the others out while the Skakdi are distracted.”

The Toa of Earth took a step closer to the fortress’ tower only to have his armor singed by a wall of flame. Whirling around, he saw the outlines of the Toa Mahri emerging from the shadows of the keep, their forms bathed in crimson glow and their weapons drawn.

“First the Piraka, then the Barraki, and now at the end of the line you Toa Hagah stand against us,” challenged Hahli, her wings unfolding. “Seems a Doom Viper can take many shapes these days.”

To accentuate his sister’s point, Nuparu threw two long objects onto the ground between them. In the flickering lights, the Toa couldn’t make them out at first, until an explosion outside the sanctum illuminated the two pieces of Iruini’s broken Cyclone Spear.

As the revelation dawned on him, Norik’s expression was one of thunder.

Tension gradually mounted, as an unspoken rivalry months in the making now reached its boiling point. Although the two teams were standing together, there now spanned a divide that neither side wished to close.

“So where does this go from here?” asked Kualus, steel in his voice.

“Nowhere good.”

Pouks shifted his stance only to see Nuparu matching his movements, Protosteel Shield unclipped.

“We’re through taking orders,” bristled Jaller, brandishing his Power Sword. “From you and all the Toa that came after you...”

Chapter 9

To be Added

Chapter 10

To be Added

Chapter 11

To be Added

Chapter 12

To be Added

Epilogue

To be Added

Characters

• Toa Hagah
  • Norik
  • Gaaki
  • Bomonga
  • Pouks
  • Iruini
  • Kualus
• Toa Mahri
  • Jaller
  • Hahli
  • Nuparu
  • Hewkii
  • Kongu
• Golden Skinned Being
• Rahi Nui
• Trinuma
• Turaga Dume
• Ackar
• Kiina
• Tarduk
• Taipu
• Kirbold

Story Notes

• Central to the plot of the story is the legacy of the Toa Hagah. Having been returned to their Toa forms only to miss much of the Reign of Shadows, they each wrestle with their newfound roles on Spherus Magna. Crucially, the Toa must decide if they will continue the legacy set out for them by Makuta, or if they will forge their own paths and identities in this new world.
• In Chapter 2, Gaaki experiences another vision of the future through her Mask of Clairvoyance: a vision of Iruini being replaced as the sixth Toa Hagah. Unlike her previous vision in Dwellers in Darkness foretelling the 'death' of one of their number, Bob wanted to ensure that Gaaki's vision had lasting repercussions this time.
• Over the course of this story, Bob endeavored to fit as many unloved combiner model characters into the action:
  • Chapter 1 opens with Pouks rescuing a Protocairn, a combiner Rahi comprised of Toa Hordika. The Protocairn was previously only mentioned in BIONICLE Adventures 10: Time Trap and No One Gets Left Behind.
  • Chapter 2 features an appearance from the Order of Mata Nui operative Trinuma, who famously only appeared in Destiny War. In this chapter, Bob suggests that Trinuma was the Order operative who sent the Toa Mahri on their mission to Zakaz, as shown in Reign of Shadows: The Untold Stories.
  • It also features the reappearance of the Rahi Nui, which has not been referenced at all since its battle against the Toa Nuva in BIONICLE Chronicles 4: Tales of the Masks. Notably, the Rahi Nui was not one of the named characters Greg confirmed to have escaped the Matoran Universe. The Rahi Nui encountered both the Toa Metru and the Toa Nuva and Bob considers its safe relocation out of the Great Spirit Robot to be part of the Toa Hagah's ultimate destiny. Since the Rahi Nui was created by Makuta, he sees the Toa Hagah ferrying it through the crumbling universe as correcting one of Makuta's mistakes.
  • Chapter 4 features the first ever in-story depiction of the Swamp Stalker, another combiner model Rahi with no story significance whatsoever. The chapter also has allusions to Night Creepers and Mud Crawlers, Rahi specimens previously mentioned only in the BIONICLE: Encyclopedia.
  • The Vortixx and Steltian conservationists in Chapter 4 refer to an unfortunate event in the history of the Toa Hagah, where they intervened into Steltian affairs to relocate the endangered colony of Hahnah. Norik's controversial relocation of the Rahi to Mahri Nui served only to alienate the Toa from the citizens of Stelt and resulted in him removing all mention of the Hahnah crabs from BIONICLE: Rahi Beasts. Aside from being one of Bob's long-standing headcanons, this serves as an in-universe explanation for why the crabs were not acknowledged in the guidebook.
  • Chapter 5 includes allusions to multiple undersea Rahi, including the Pit War Tortoise combination model.
  • Iruini accuses his teammates of worrying if the Klakk have soft enough nests.
• The Toa Mahri are each experiencing a stage of grief following Matoro's loss, though none of them are quite at the acceptance stage:
  • Kongu is at the depressive penultimate stage, where he feels overwhelmed and wishes to retreat back into his earliest memories as a Le-Matoran. Notably, he can no longer hear the lifesong of Le-Koro and fears he can never return for the shame.
  • Hewkii is in a denial phase, where he throws himself into comfortable memories of Kolhii. He fixates that he should have pushed himself harder and trained so that he might have altered the inevitable outcome of Matoro's sacrifice, but ultimately realizes he would always come up short.
  • Nuparu is at a crucial crossroads between denial and bargaining, retreating into his preferred pastime of inventing. Haunted by recent revelations that he created the Vahki and that the Boxors he fashioned from Bohrok had been built from dead Av-Matoran, he seeks comfort in the memory of building the multi-shot Zamor launchers with Velika that liberated the Matoran of Voya Nui. He is tempted but falls short of actually wishing for anything beyond invention materials, reasoning that there are enough weapons in the universe and not enough left to wield them.
  • Hahli is in the anger phase, indulging in an opportunity for endless barbarism in the depths of the Pit. At the height of her frustration, she faces down waves of undersea creatures before finally flinging herself at the Barraki warlords. She ultimately falls short of crossing the ultimate line and cannot descend fully into her anger, subconsciously looking up to return to the surface and realizing how far she is beneath the waves.
  • Jaller is in the bargaining phase, where he relents to the pressures of the Golden Being and imagines a scenario in which he had made the heroic sacrifice instead of Matoro. Bob consulted Greg Garshtey regarding this scene, and Greg crucially suggested that Jaller would seek to insert himself into the sacrifice in his brother's place, only it wouldn't work and Mata Nui would stay dead as it had always been Matoro's destiny.
  • Iruini also shares a scene with the Golden Being, though Tren Krom's influence makes him immune to the same psychic powers that ensnared the Toa Mahri. This prevents any singular vision from sticking until the Golden Being instead tricks Iruini into dreaming up his own nightmare. In the vision that follows, Iruini enters a chaos spiral where his teammates are caught midway in their mutation into Rahaga, convincing Iruini that his desire to fulfill a solo destiny has brought them to ruin a second time. Notably, the visual for this scene was inspired by both the concept style of BIONICLE 3: Web of Shadows and Toa Orde in: Riddle of the Abominable Snowmen, by BionicleChicken.
• The statue that the Toa Hagah encounter in Chapter 3 is a statue of Glatorian Certavus that was preserved from Atero.
• The scavenger camp holds many relics dredged from the Silver Sea, including one particular relic that draws Norik's attention. Bob likes to imagine all manner of wares being hawked at these stalls, from Levitation Kanoka to once-used Toa Canisters. He considers it Berix's dream but an archivist's nightmare.
• The Su-Matoran gatekeeper is a recurring extra, featuring across several Myths and Legacy stories.
• Iruini references an instance where Pouks' name was misspelled on the Wall of History. This is an allusion to the Rahaga instruction booklets, which used his prototype name Puks instead of his finalized name.
• Turaga Onewa finally makes good on his promise to carve towering statues for the Toa Hagah if they help reverse the mutation of the Toa Hordika, as pledged in BIONICLE Adventures 9: Web of Shadows.
• The Skakdi Fortress is stylized like the Piraka Fortress in the 2006 Toa Inika commercials, complete with barbed wire, electric fencing, and roving searchlights, all of which were designed by Nuparu.

Production

Writing for Legacy Weapons commenced in late 2017 after Bob graduated university and conceived the first outline of the story. In this outline, Bob planned to revisit the unfinished battle between the Toa Mahri and Toa Hagah previously started during Dwellers in Darkness. He also wanted to explore the conflict between Iruini and Norik, which he planned to act as a surrogate for Greg Farshtey's intended 2005 plot threat of Matau.

Putting in long hours at a full time job and traveling to work each day, Bob adapted to a new writing approach and wrote ideas on scraps of paper, then pieced them together later. This led to a fragmented style for the earliest chapters and many instances of over-description to compensate.

Real trouble began to set in when Bob approached the original draft of Chapter 4, where he had intended to feature all of the surviving Toa gathering at Tahu's invitation, a suitable Greg Farshtey-esque premise for a serial chapter. However, Bob never managed to tackle the scene. Moreover, he didn't plan to write any future post-Reformation stories and couldn't anticipate in 2018 what direction continuation projects might take the post-Reformation story. He ended up writing a chapter that featured a non-committal council meeting where little was accomplished, taking great lengths to describe a headquarters that the Toa had constructed on Spherus Magna, rationalizing that ten years had passed and the guardians of Spherus Magna surely now had a headquarters to coordinate their peacekeeping efforts from. Much of the first draft of the chapter featured Tahu, Onua, Gali, and Takanuva gathered around a conference table, expositing the changing geo-political landscape of Spherus Magna to the various unnamed Toa in attendance, then agreeing to send the Toa Hagah on a secret mission to rescue the missing Toa Mahri. This would have included Kualus nodding at a Toa of Plasma who he recognized, Pouks mentioning that his original Toa teammates had been killed [by Skakdi] while serving at the Toa Fortress, and Tahu in particular being poorly characterized. When Gonel reviewed this draft, he politely told Bob he had reduced the Toa Nuva to "mouthpieces for exposition" and that the chapter didn't yet live up to the grand expectations it had set out to achieve. He also pointed out that, although ten years had passed in real life, the story was taking place three days after the Battle of Bara Magna and that the Toa Nuva were still searching for a location to build New Atero. This made it very unlikely there would be any physical structures such as the council chamber described.

Conscious that he had taken the Toa Nuva and inserted them into a boardroom meeting, Bob scrapped Chapter 4 entirely and rewrote it to feature the Toa Hagah spending a day exploring Spherus Magna: Iruini and Kualus would engage in an arena match with the Glatorian, Bomonga and Norik would train new Rahi handlers, and Gaaki would confide her vision in Pouks. This provided Bob with an opportunity to demonstrate the three 'legacies' of the Toa Hagah: as defenders of peace, as Rahi experts who might someday continue Makuta's work, and as retired guardians restored for a second chance. He then rewrote the original scene for Chapter 5, in which Tahu alone approached the Toa Hagah and gave them the call to adventure with none of the unnecessary geo-politics. In this revised chapter, Bob treated Pouks as his "expositionbuster" to replace any of the unnecessary lines that had previously been spoken by Onua, Gali, and Takanuva.

In the second draft, Chapter 4 featured Bomonga demonstrating how to wrangle a Muaka and answering obscure questions from a group of Agori spectators, demonstrating that the Toa Hagah should share their knowledge of these creatures, lest the details fade from living memory. After reading this draft, Gonel recognized the vast improvement but felt the Muaka was already very well-known to the reader and suggested Bob should instead feature a more obscure Rahi. He also proposed that Bomonga should have this interaction with a conversation partner rather than presenting an open lecture to a group of nameless Agori. Bob eventually settled on Tarduk and was drawn to the Swamp Stalker when he realized it had no canon appearances recorded on BS01. Tarduk's perspective also allowed for him to compare the Rahi to Spikit and Sand Stalkers, which Bomonga humorously mistook for Rock Steeds.

2021 saw the final TTV canonization contest, which established canon appearances for the remaining four Toa Hagah. Having begun writing at a time when Bomonga, Gaaki, Pouks and Kualus didn't have artwork or official set photography, Bob figured it was just his luck that a canonization content would randomly happen now, after 16 years. He had always planned to leave his description of the Toa intentionally vague so as to give the reader freedom of interpretation. While he was a very public proponent of Count Pewku's Toa Pouks submission, he despised the winning Bomonga entry and became deeply conflicted over whether or not he should acknowledge the contest winners at all in Legacy Weapons. As time passed and he came to accept the finality of the contest results, he made brief allusions to Gaaki's coppery armor, Kualus' scarf, and Bomonga's Faxon-shaped Kanohi, but leaving the descriptions vague.

In 2023, Bob and Gonel had the opportunity to approach Greg Farshtey over Zoom and asked him several burning questions about his writing, asking how he would approach scenes in their stories and if he had any recommendations. In particular, they asked Greg about the Golden Being, Jaller, and Iruini, as well as a few questions about the Great Beings and Destral Fortress. During this call, Greg made a crucial suggestion concerning Jaller's characterization, which prompted Bob to write Chapter 6 from scratch within 48 hours. The call also motivated a pivotal story moment in Chapter 8.

Bob finished Legacy Weapons on 11th July 2024, penning the epilogue into a notebook while sitting in a cafe. He has kept many of his original notes documenting the 8-year evolution of the story.

Trivia

• Greg Farshtey himself had creative input into Chapters 6 and Chapter 8.
• If Legacy Weapons were to have been adapted into an official BIONICLE story saga, Bob considers Finish Line - Skillet to be the accompanying promotional soundtrack.

See Also

• Legacy Weapons: Chapter 1 - 810NICLE Day 2024 readthrough