Chapter Eleven

There was no time to waste. Having learned from Kapura about the Vorox column descending upon their location, the refugees from the Great Being’s tower and the jungle Agori had quickly set to work preparing defenses. Every successive report from Kapura brought worse news, for it seemed the Vorox had raided a Great Being storehouse. They carried with them the full might of Great Being weaponry.

“These villagers don’t have much in the way of construction equipment.”

As Lewa scampered up a vine, a bag of stones and logs strapped to his torso, he looked down. Artakha stood at the base of the tree, seemingly looking for something to build with.

“Quick-figured that out right-fast,” he said, handing the bag off in the high branches to some villagers who seemed to thank him. He smiled and nodded before starting back down. “Not much in the way of technology at all.”

The Toa of Air retrieved another bag and was about to start back up the tree when he realized Artakha’s mask was glowing, and he was holding something out to him. It was a small medallion that fitted to Lewa’s breastplate. Strangely, although it was made out of dirt, twig, and stone, it pulsated with electrical energy.

“I made it,” Artakha explained. “Just now.”

“Is this for the tree-villagers?”

“No,” Artakha said. “For you. It… repels telepathic incursion,” he sighed. “Even the Great Spirit couldn’t puncture its effect if you didn’t want it to.”

Lewa smiled sheepishly. “You paid close eye-attention to our adventures, then?”

His builder nodded, a tinge of pride entering his voice. “I never stopped.”

He turned to walk away, but then paused and looked over his shoulder.

“And no matter what happens, I will always watch over you.”

✴        ✴        ✴

There were few sounds. The distant hum of engines. The remote buzz of mechanical saws. The soft hiss from the ventilation system.

But the antechamber was silent.

There was so much to say, yet no words were spoken. So many emotions to express, yet little except shock registered. In spite of everything they had known and all the hints they’d discovered, still nothing could have prepared them for this. And in the distant recesses of Kopaka’s mind, malevolent words drifted on peals of laughter: I am that which you are sworn to protect.

“Velika,” Pohatu said, swallowing. “You are—”

“As the Gate Guardian obscures itself, so have I.”

Kopaka frowned, “Have you always been a Great Being this whole time?”

“Ah! The Rock Ussal has earned his shell! And just in time for the storm…”

Pohatu tilted his head. “The Matoran Resistance. Did they mean anything to you?”

“Does a Takea shark care for the fish that follow in its wake?”

Kopaka scowled. More words out of his past drifted back, unbeckoned. Your Turaga speaks in riddles… I hate riddles.

“There was once a cave that lay before a large hill,” Velika continued. “The cave belonged to a Kofo-Jaga who sat at the top of that hill. In the mouth of the cave was a Dikapi, an herbivore. The Kofo-Jaga waited patiently for the Dikapi to move so it could escape the sun. But the Dikapi was waiting for the Kofo-Jaga to move so it could go out and find food. The two waited for hours, slowly dying… because neither took the action that was necessary. When they did act, they were vicious and hungry and killed each other because they had become enemies needlessly.”

Before their very eyes, Velika seemed to change. His expression, once aloof and enigmatic, grew cold. When he spoke, his voice, once playful and thoughtful, now had an undertone of subtle menace.

“You could ask many questions,” Velika said softly. “You could ask what my intentions entail. Why did I let Karzahni rebuild me? Did I replace the mind of some Matoran when I claimed this body, or was Velika always a Great Being? Is Velika my real name? Can I become a Toa? What am I like in other universes? So many questions about me that could exist.” He chuckled. “Unlike some, I have the liberty of disclosing only what you need to know about me.”

“Try us.”

“I think not,” Velika frowned. “But since you seek answers, I will solve for you the one hidden in the world around us. This enigmatic beacon. This storm-bearing station. What does the red star bring to all who lay their eyes upon it? Whether it be the Rahi who once leapt off the tallest mountain thinking it was fruit… or the Toa born from its lightning?”

Kopaka threw a glance at Pohatu – one which the latter exchanged.

“Destiny,” Lesovikk said softly.

Velika nodded. “You never questioned why we imparted the three virtues, and why they were the foundation of your teachings. It wasn’t until recently that you learned the truth of your existence. Living cogs in a machine. But cogs don’t need advanced cognitive functions to perform their duties, do they? So why would you?”

Kopaka frowned. “I don’t appreciate rhetorical questions,” he said coolly.

Velika smiled. “Very well — Kopaka, who was programmed on my table. Oh, you were always my favorite. You and the Toa Mata would not have had personalities if not for my changes. The other Great Beings were nearly content to call you ‘Axe,’ ‘Blade,’ ‘Flame,’ ‘Kick,’ ‘Hook,’ and ‘Claw.’ Oh, there’s so much I could tell you about your origins.”

“Get to your point,” Kopaka pressed.

“And make it interesting,” Pohatu urged. “We’ve heard so many monologues that they start to sound the same after a while.”

Velika snorted.

“Impatience and levity,” he said. “I see you two for your most fundamental attributes. That is how I see all creatures of your… of our universe. It was I who awakened this in you. It was I who enlightened you with advanced cognitive functions. But for all your free will, you cannot escape your destinies. No matter how many mistakes you made, how many times your team almost fractured, you never failed to reawaken the Great Spirit.”

“We almost didn’t,” Kopaka frowned. “No planning could have accounted for the multitude of factors that almost stopped us.”

“Yet they didn’t stop you,” Velika said simply. “You honed in on your programmed objectives… and you fulfilled them. And you were not the only ones. The Makuta, for all his plotting and scheming, helped his brother reform Spherus Magna. The warlord Pridak marched on Metru Nui, undermined Teridax, and contributed to the Great Spirit’s downfall. All things played out as they had been ordained.”

“They were motivated by evil, not their duty,” Kopaka said.

“If the arrow finds its mark, does it matter how it flew?”

“That’s absurd! It means it wouldn’t matter what good or evil we did,” Pohatu snapped. “That our fates were going to play out the same anyway.”

Velika smiled, as if he had imparted a secret.

Lesovikk shouldered past the two Toa Nuva.

“And what about those that died?” he demanded. “What about those who gave their life or had it stolen from them? What about my teammates?”

Velika smiled thinly.

“It was their destiny… to die, basically.”

Lesovikk roared and lunged for the diminutive Matoran, vortexes of air swirling around his hands. Velika made no move, but he didn’t have to – the Toa of Air was flash-frozen in his tracks. Kopaka lowered his blizzard blade.

The Po-Matoran laughed. “Kopaka, I knew you would appreciate the intellectual ramifications.”

“There are destinies that go unfulfilled, ‘Velika,’” Kopaka said flatly, advancing on the Matoran. “What about those who have outlived theirs? We are not creatures of the Mata Nui robot anymore. We have new lives, beyond our old purposes. We are more than the Great Beings ever intended. What, according to your proposal, happens to us now?”

“You have seen creatures like yourselves who have lost their destinies,” Velika said simply. “You have faced them within the past few hours. Creatures who have no duty anymore, and no use for unity.”

Kopaka stopped as the realization set in.

Velika continued. “This brings us back to where we started. You can become like the undead creatures you have seen in this place… or you can follow me, your only hope of escaping this fate. I who expanded your minds and gave life to your natures. I will redefine you and your lives. I only ask that you listen to what I say openly.”

At this, Turaga Jovan spoke.

“It is clear now that what I thought I knew about you, up until my death, was a lie. I do not know you or your intentions… but I know that you are wrong. You have murdered me, Tren Krom, Karzahni — you do not sustain life, merely take it. But what I and the survivors with me on this star found was the truth - that we can redefine ourselves in a new society. We can give ourselves new duties and new destinies without some murderer to lead us.”

“We have the Great Spirit,” Kopaka said. “His leadership is more than yours could amount to.”

“He has told us to find our own way. To shape our own destinies,” Pohatu added.

Velika looked between the three who stood before him and the frozen Lesovikk, whose eyes blazed with fury.

He sighed.

“I was convinced that I could appeal to you. That I could prove to you that the cycles of failures in leadership would end with me. But that is not so. I was right to trust my intuition.”

He turned his back to them and took a few steps away.

“Of course, the secrecy of my identity is paramount to the success of this operation. And I would not have told you my plans if your fate was not certain. But here is where I must bid you farewell.”

“What do you mean, our fate is certain?” Pohatu snapped.

“We all hurtle to our destinies. Even I,” Velika said softly. “But sometimes the greatest quests begin with menial tasks… helping villages… eliminating those who would stop me… collecting cowrie shells.”

“Answer the question,” Kopaka growled.

“No one inside the star can feel its movement, or the Kestora would have died long ago,” Velika explained. “But right now, we are barreling toward the surface of Spherus Magna. When the excavators find you, there will be no trace of my involvement. I came up here to check on you, Toa Nuva. I found, to my disappointment, that you had discovered more about me than you ought to know at this time. Now the mistake must be corrected.”

He shifted his shoulders under the weight of his contraption. “I have found many friends of yours deep within the Bota Magna forest. Before they die, I will deliver your farewell.”

With that, the Po-Matoran flipped a switch on the device straddling his shoulders. And before the Toa could stop him, he had vanished.

And the red star continued toward its final destination.