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This article was written by BobTheDoctor27. Please do not add to it without the writer's permission.
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| Zero Hour: Prequel | |
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| Story | |
| Setting |
Fractures Alternate Universe - Northern Continent
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| Date Set |
93 Years Ago
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| Timeline | |
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The Zero Hour Prequel was a short story set in the village of Marlott in the Fractures Universe. It was written by BobTheDoctor27 as a promotional piece of prose in anticipation of the Zero Hour graphic comic.
Story[]
“Do it again!”
Toa Jekkai scowled and picked himself up off the forest floor. Flicking twigs and moss from his armor, he climbed the tall tree and edged out along a branch the width of his wrist. When he got as far as he could standing up, he bent, gripped the branch with his hands and kicked his feet into the air. It took him a few seconds to find his balance. Once he was steady, he walked out further on his hands.
“Stop,” ordered Toa Salu as the branch creaked and bowed from the weight. He was sitting higher up in the tree, a piece of straw in his mouth, hanging lazily out at one end.
Jekkai stared at the ground, feeling sweat trickle along his neck. Salu watched for a while, still chewing on the tip of his piece of straw. Then, without warning, he unleashed a violent gust of wind in the rookie’s direction, but a couple of feet beyond the branch on which the young Toa was precariously perched. A white Kanohi Kadin tumbled toward the ground.
“Catch it!” barked the Toa of Air.
Jekkai’s left hand shot out and his fingers clutched for the Kanohi. He almost made contact, but as had happened sixteen times already, his right hand shook wildly, he lost balance and fell with a startled cry, hitting the earth not long after the Kadin.
“Do it again,” tutted the Toa of Air, only half interested, his piece of straw still twitching in his mouth as he reclined into the branch, propping his back up against the tree trunk.
As Jekkai muttered angrily and climbed back up the tree, Salu created another column of wind, tearing the Kanohi out of the mud and back up into his outstretched palm.
“This is ridiculous,” grumbled the Toa of Ice, staring at the branch above him with something close to hatred. “It’s an impossible task.”
“Not at all,” grunted Salu. “Every Toa needs to be able to do this. It is a basic test, one of the most rudimentary clauses of the Toa Code. Winning a Kanohi is a tradition, a rite of passage.”
Jekkai squinted suspiciously at his trainer. There had been a lot of rather basic tests in recent weeks, ever since Salu’d had an argument with Turaga Autolycus. He’d failed most of them and it had gotten to the point where he wasn’t sure if the veteran Toa of Air was just playing him, setting goals that he couldn’t possibly achieve. But why would Salu humiliate him in such a fashion? Maybe the tests were genuine and he just wasn’t up to the standards required of a Toa at this stage of his training.
“I almost caught it that time,” Jekkai muttered, struggling his way back up the branches.
“No,” stated Salu firmly. “You were nowhere close.”
“Are you sure this is necessary?” asked the novice Toa.
The Toa of Air shrugged. “Life as a Toa is very demanding. The world will test you in many ways. You must be flexible and experienced in a variety of skills. If you cannot do this, there is no point going further with your lessons.”
Jekkai sighed, a resigned expression on his Kanohi, then edged out along the branch for the seventeenth time.
Salu chewed on the tip of his stalk and watched neutrally. He waited until Jekkai was in position, then lobbed the Kanohi at him, closed his eyes and waited for the thud. When it came his lips twitched and he almost smiled. But when he opened his eyes again, there was no hint of a grin on his carefully composed Mask of Fusion.
“Do it again!”
Both Toa were in a mutually foul mood when they returned to their campsite at dusk. They often went out together on training exercises like this for days on end, though they never ventured further than a mio’s radius from their village. It had been a long and tiring day of drilling, but there was no rest for Jekkai.
“I want a fresh slice of meat when I wake,” ordered Salu as he yawned and made himself comfortable. Will you fetch one for me, Jekkai?”
“But we’re mio away from our village,” noted the inexperienced young Toa.
“I know.”
“I won’t be able to catch much sleep by the time I travel there and back.”
“You are young,” snorted the Toa of Air. “You do not need a lot of sleep.”
“Do you want any particular type of meat?”
“Of course not,” snapped his instructor, settling back and closing his eyes against a tree trunk. “You know I am not particular.”
Jekkai sighed then turned off through the forest, grumbling and kicking any tree stumps that got in his way. The last few weeks had been a frustrating drag. Endless tests, most of which he’d enjoyed no success in. No contact with other Toa. No adventures in the wilderness that he loved. Not much travel, and when he did venture somewhere new with Salu he wasn’t allowed to explore.
“I have already seen that,” he would say whenever Jekkai asked him to go sightseeing. “It is not worth the trek.”
Back at the settlement Toa Merra was growing bored and irritable too, but he still had faith in both his trainers. They were both helping him for a reason. Long gone were the days where a novice like himself would have to go through the many trials of becoming a Toa alone, although his kind were vanishing from the world rapidly.
But Jekkai remained unconvinced. He suspected age was catching up on the two veteran Toa, that their thoughts had become muddled. Maybe these weren’t real tests at all, just ways to make him look foolish. Nothing he did in recent times could satisfy the grouchy Toa of Air. He found flaws in everything. The Toa of Ice couldn’t believe that other Toa could be this critical of their students.
He took his time walking back to Marlott, the fortress village that had become his home, keeping to the gloom of the forest as best he could, avoiding the sentries. Not that he’d get past unnoticed. Sonitous, the Captain of the Guard, had the senses of a Doom Viper. Being a De-Matoran he could hear a twig snapping for mio around.
It was shameful to think that the Matoran of Sonics could still overpower him.
When the Toa of Ice returned with the meat – still fresh, tucked in the folds of his cloak – Salu stirred and called to him, “Is that you, Jekkai?”
“Yes.”
“What took you so long?”
The Toa bit down on his tongue to stop himself cursing. “You said you would eat later. I didn’t think there was any rush so I took my time.”
“I am too hungry to wait.” The Toa of Air beckoned impatiently for the food. Jekkai resisted the urge to toss it at his Kanohi, and instead drew it out of his cloak then handed it across. Salu’s eyebrows creased. “I asked for Ruki meat. This smells like Mahi.”
Jekkai trembled. “You said you didn’t mind,” he snarled through gritted teeth.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” The Toa of Air blinked innocently. “My apologies. I meant to ask for Mahi meat.”
He held the food out to Jekkai and nodded in the direction of Marlott. The novice Toa stared at the Mahi meat, wondering if it was possible to batter Salu to death with it. Then he turned abruptly and headed back the way he’d come.
Two days later, Jekkai was fishing,
He stood in the middle of a fast-flowing stream, thigh-deep in cold water, hunched over. The test was to spear a fish with his little finger. It should have been a simple task, except Salu had tied a strip of cloth around the rookie Toa’s eyes so that he couldn’t see.
“Listen closely, runt,” he called from the bank, where he was tucking into the last of their shared rations. “No creature moves in complete silence. Focus. Train your audio receptors. Ignore the sounds of the stream and the rumbling of your belly.”
“Easy for you to say,” huffed Jekkai under his breath, the delicious smell of Bula Berries thick in his nostrils. He hadn’t eaten since the whole escapade with the Mahi meat. He’d been told that he could eat nothing until he caught a fish.
Jekkai bent down in the water and strained, but he could hear nothing move beneath the surface, even with his advanced senses. After a few minutes he stabbed directionlessly, figuring if he did that often enough, he had to catch something eventually, but he came up empty-handed.
The Toa of Ice was struggling to control his rage. He was starving, wet and hadn’t slept in days. But worst of all, he felt like a fool. There was no way he could do this. If it was a still pond, perhaps, but there were limits to what even a Toa could do. Besides, when he’d studied the stream from the bank before getting in, he hadn’t seen any fish.
Something bumped against his leg and he thrust at it. His finger struck it true and he yelled with triumph. But when he tore his blindfold away to examine his catch he saw he’d only speared a piece of driftwood.
“You will not get fat on that,” chuckled Salu patronizingly, juices from the Bula Berries dripping down his Mask of Fusion.
“To Karzahni with it!” roared Jekkai as he threw the stick at his trainer. It struck the Toa’s shoulder and bounced harmlessly into the grass. Salu stared at it, then at Jekkai, his expression unreadable.
“Apologise,” he hissed.
“For what?” yelled Jekkai. “You’re treating me worse than a Rahi. There’s no way you can –”
“You are,” corrected Salu calmly. “There is.”
“How about this?” sneered the white-armored warrior. “You are a stupid, cruel, decrepit sham of a Toa! You have lost your senses,” he pressed on, wading out of the stream. He stood dripping in front of his master. “You do not deserve the title of a Toa. You are setting me trials that no Toa could complete, just to watch me fail. You should go and -”
He stopped. Salu had stood up and was heading for the stream. He got in and glared at Jekkai before producing a blindfold of his own and covering his eyes. As the young Toa watched in silence, he extended his arms and stuck out his smallest fingers on both hands. The veteran Toa crouched down low over the gushing water and held his position like a Nivawk hovering in mid-flight.
For a long time he didn’t move and his apprentice stood motionless. Then, in a flash, his left hand shot into the water. When he pulled it out again, his finger was stuck through the middle of a small, silver fish.
He tossed the creature onto the bank, removed his blindfold and raised an eyebrow at Jekkai, inviting an apology. But the young Toa was in no mood to beg his trainer’s forgiveness. With a curse, he suggested a dark, warm place where Salu could stuff the fish, then took a few steps away and sat down in a huff.
“You may take a short break,” called his mentor, half-smiling. “It will do you good to sulk for a while.”
But Jekkai was too occupied with the fish. He frowned. “This isn’t fresh,” he grunted.
“I would be shocked if it was,” Salu chuckled. “I caught it some hours ago while you were attempting to retrieve your Kanohi from that tree. I concealed it in my armor.”
Even without his keen Toa senses, Jekkai knew he really should have noticed that trick. Perhaps he was just too hungry to concentrate.
“So you just sat here watching me thrash at a steam all morning, eating my Bula Berries and throwing insults?”
Salu’s smile faded and he shook his head. “You underestimate my feelings towards you, Jekkai. I would never do that to you. The tasks I set are all within the means of Toa of a certain standing. You are not ready to pass such trials, but they are legitimate and there is no shame in failing them.”
“I don’t understand though,” whined the novice Toa. “Why set the tests if you know I can’t complete them?”
“To provoke a reaction like the one we both just experienced.” Salu sighed and stepped out of the water. “You are a fine young Toa, honest and obedient, but you lack patience. You try to hide your true feelings. It is important for you to control your emotions, but sometimes you need to be able to express yourself freely in the company of those we trust and depend on.
“You need to rebel,” continued the Toa of Air. “You have stood by me loyally ever since we first met, but the time has come for you to face the world by yourself. You must choose your own path, not simply march with me down mine.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that and cut me free?” asked the rookie.
“It is important that you think it is your own choice,” shrugged the elder Toa. “If you have to be told to rebel, it is not a true rebellion.” The green-armored Toa noticed his confusion and laughed. “You might teach this same lesson to others of our kind one day, and then my actions may not seem so curious.
“In the meantime I must ask you to trust me. If you continue to suffer as you fail more tasks and grow angrier. You can learn a thousand lessons in defeat but only one in victory.”
The Toa of Air’s eyes softened and his voice dropped.
“Now, do it again...”
Characters[]
Promotional Images[]
Trivia[]
- The official banner for the story was created by Jman98 who, very kindly, volunteered to create artwork to promote the story serial.
- The events of the Prequel were originally going to be part of the Zero Hour comic. However, BobTheDoctor27 had many tragic experiences trying to shoot the scene in which Jekkai was in the stream and the figure kept getting swept up by the current and thrown down a waterfall further down the stream. Hence, he resolved to feature the scene in the form of prose.
- BobTheDoctor27's main motive behind writing the Prequel was to delve deeper into Salu's character and to establish Jekkai's struggle with being a Toa.
| Fractures Alternate Universe | |||
|---|---|---|---|
| Main Story | Zero Hour (Prequel) • Whispers in the Dark • Over Your Shoulder • Frozen Calling • Falling in the Black • Judgment Day (Prequel) | ||
| Short Stories | Perspectives • Vendetta | ||