Chapter Eight

“Alright, Lariska, I’m impressed.”

The floor the group stood upon shuddered with each moment. Suspended on a lone platform, a pit of lava surrounded the area below a gigantic Rahi, towering over the group. Rhythmically, it fired a blast of energy from its mouth, its chains ensuring that it could only travel into the magma below. Its energy blasts did not seem to be out of an attempt to escape, or even out of anger No, it seemed as though it had no choice in the matter but to continuously expel such energy.

“The Kardas Dragon,” Roodaka spoke, as she pieced together what she was seeing.

“Vezon’s old pet,” Lariska confirmed. “From what I heard, it took ten hunters to restrain it. Two survived.” She chuckled softly, and pulled a lever on the wall beside the gate. Within moments, the metal bars receded, allowing entry into the chamber. She smiled, and gestured to the doorway. “The Shadowed One doesn’t know what kind of power he possesses.”

Roodaka smirked. Neither do you.

The Krahka fumed silently. “He will pay for what he’s done. He hoards Rahi like the spoils of war, not living creatures.” She spat, walking through the gateway. “It is only fitting that a Rahi will be his undoing.”

Hydraxon locked eyes with Lariska for just a moment. “You’re sure this is the best plan? It’s a loose cannon, if nothing else.”

Lariska sighed. “I’ve been plotting against the Shadowed One for some time now. He’s meticulous, cautious. To beat him, you need something he can’t possibly predict.” The Kardas shot another round of fire from its mouth, letting out a disturbing groan as it did. “The best solution I can think of is using his power against him. Burn it all down.”

“I agree,” Roodaka said with a wicked smile, making her way to the front of the group. Whirling on a heel, she fired a blast of shadow energy from her hand, blasting the others back through the Rahi pens.

Hydraxon jabbed his weapon into the ground, pulling himself forward as he skidded across the floor. Looking up, he watched as Roodaka slammed the gate to the dragon’s chamber shut behind her, and slowly walked towards it.

“Roodaka!” Krahka shouted, taking the form of a large Ash Bear as she charged toward the gate. “Stop this!”

But before she reached the gate, a blast from Tyrant’s weapon struck Krahka in the side, sending her collapsing to the ground.

“Finally,” the crimson hunter chuckled, blowing smoke from the barrel. “I was waiting for her to pull something like that.”

Hydraxon swung at him, cursing his name. “You fool,” he grimaced. “You’d kill us while she makes her escape?!”

“I’ll kill you so I can escape,” Tyrant retorted, dodging the attack. “She can do whatever she wants. Besides, you were going to put me back in a cell. Can’t have that.”

As Hydraxon found himself preoccupied with Tyrant, Roodaka carried on, striking at the Kardas’ chains with her mace. As the first of the chains broke, the dragon stretched its left arm for the first time in days, beginning to feel freedom once more.

Hydraxon dug his claws into the ground, propelling himself toward the dragon, only for Tyrant’s claw to catch his foot, and drag him back. Beside them, the Krahka had recovered, lunging forward with the ferocity of a Muaka, only to be batted back by the Kardas’ tail, as yet another one of its chains broke free.

At last, Roodaka climbed atop the head of the Kardas, stroking it gently as she loosened the final chain around its neck. Hydraxon looked up and watched in terror. He was too late. The Kardas was free, and the forces of chaos had been unleashed.

Within moments, the chamber gate exploded, sending the group flying back. Atop the now freed Kardas, Roodaka laughed, looking down upon the escapees amidst the rubble.

“I thank you for this opportunity,” she announced proudly. “Lariska was right, we need to burn this to the ground. And now, I have the spark to do so. With the Shadowed One dead, I and this creature shall take command over the Dark Hunters as their rightful ruler. I could never have done it without you.”

“If you’d like your sentence to be any lighter,” yelled Hydraxon, “get down from there, now.”

“Forget that,” the Krahka roared, “release that Rahi, or you’ll die by my hand.”

Roodaka laughed, and lashed the Kardas with the broken chain. The beast roared, and fired another blast into the chamber, sending a tremor through the floor and knocking the prisoners off of their feet. With evil laughter, the Vortixx pulled up on the dragon’s neck, and the beast flapped its massive wings, preparing for flight. “You will not stand in my way,” she sneered. “Lariska had the right idea.”

Confused, the three fighters looked over their shoulders, only to see that Lariska had vanished. None knew when she had disappeared, nor why, but there was no time to question it. The presence of the Kardas Dragon was the more immediate issue.

“Move,” Roodaka hissed, “or this place will be your grave.”

The encaged Rahi all around hooted and roared, shaking at their cages. The floor shook, unstable from the Kardas’ attacks. The hall was a maelstrom of chaos, and everyone was waiting for the first blow to be struck. And yet, even amidst the noise, Hydraxon heard a voice deep within his mind.

We’re staying, Dekar said. She’s going down.

For what felt like the first time, Hydraxon agreed with him.

✴        ✴        ✴

Lariska darted through the halls of the Shadowed One’s fortress, retreating back up the stairs toward the chamber she had begun her journey in. For the entire group, it had taken them the better part of a day to traverse the Xian fortress. For her, though, it would only take minutes.

As she slipped through a hidden passageway, a million thoughts raced through her head. She imagined that by now, Roodaka would have freed the Kardas Dragon, and would be tearing through the fortress. She didn’t necessarily agree with the Vortixx, but they shared a hatred of the Shadowed One, that much she could count on. The dragon Rahi would decimate the fortress, and Lariska would achieve her goal in the ensuing chaos. All was going according to plan.

Of course, she felt a twinge of guilt for Hydraxon, Krahka, and Tyrant. None of them had much of a choice, and they would all likely die in the crossfire, but it would be worth it. The Shadowed One’s death was vastly more important than their lives.

After all, she thought to herself, if anyone understands trading lives, it would be the jailer of the Order of Mata Nui.

✴        ✴        ✴

“I have found them,” Vanisher reported, kneeling humbly before the Shadowed One. He and Takadox stood at the foot of his throne, looking up at their ruler with great reverence.

“They have a small encampment on the outskirts of Bota Magna,” the Dark Hunter continued. “What’s more, they are alone, accompanied only by their Turaga and a scattered group of Jungle Agori.”

A grim smile crept across the Shadowed One’s face. “Very well, then. It is time to depart.”

With that, the dark leader turned to face the chamber, and slammed his staff into the floor. Beside him, Sentrakh roared, demanding the attention of the gathered hunters. Instantly, the crowd of misfits and rebels turned their gaze upwards.

“My hunters!” he proclaimed, with all the might of a storied ruler. “The moment has come at last. Assemble our fleet, it is time to move out.”

At once, the assembled chamber moved like wildfire, spreading out through each exit, making their way to the outside of the building. Vanisher nodded silently, before disappearing into a dimensional portal. Outside, the sounds of engines turning over could already be heard, as the Dark Hunter armada prepared to deploy.

Sensing his opportunity to talk some sense into his leader, Takadox drew close to the Shadowed One’s side. “If I may, my lord, I do not know if we should strike yet,” he muttered. “Our forces are strong, yes, but our location has been compromised. We may not be–”

“Enough,” the Shadowed One interjected. “My decision has been made. Do not think of making it for me.”

Takadox stammered, rising up to his feet. “B-but, my lord, surely you must recognize the danger you are putting yourself in!”

“No more danger than we already face by our existence on this planet,” the Shadowed One replied. “I grow tired of waiting. We will strike at the Toa Nuva at once, and make our mark on this planet with a declaration of war.”

With a sigh, the former Barraki stared deep into his master’s eyes, and began channeling his powers of hypnosis. “My lord, you must be reasonab– ack!”

The Shadowed One’s fist gripped his throat tightly, stopping his attempt.

“Do you think I am unaware of your little parlor trick?” he sneered, tightening his chokehold. “Has the privilege to order around my underlings given you some misplaced sense of power? My legions hunted your species to near extinction while you rotted away in the Pit. Now you return to a world that I have long since claimed as my own. You might have ruled once, but those days are long gone. You continue to exist solely because of my patience. And it grows thin…”

Takadox squirmed, barely breathing within the dark ruler’s grasp.

He smiled, amused by his pathetic struggles. “I haven’t reached out to the Barraki since the fall. Perhaps I could offer you to them as a token of alliance… My own tablet of transit.” His eyes glowed fiercely red. “But no… it would be far more satisfying to see you suffer at my feet.”

As soon as the Shadowed One let out a sharp whistle, Sentrakh came forward from behind the throne, stomping towards his master. Takadox was helpless as the Shadowed One placed him within the grip of the undying beast, one that was somehow even tighter around his neck.

“Your powers are useful, but I would be a fool to trust you,” the master of the Dark Hunters purred. “If you are to remain in this organization… then I will need eyes in the back of my head.”

At that, Sentrakh pressed the tips of his claws up to Takadox’s face, piercing the area around his eye. With a nod from the Shadowed One, Sentrakh clenched a tight fist and pulled back, ripping out an eye as punishment for the former Barraki’s attempted treachery.

And Takadox wailed in agony.

What soon followed was a crash that resounded through the hall as the bestial Savage barrelled into the room, roaring and clawing across, followed close behind by Gatherer.

Seeing this, the Shadowed One barked an order for the few remaining hunters in the chamber to attack, and they immediately drew their weapons, doing their best to fight back the mutated Toa. Before long, two former Glatorian had managed to trap the creature, tying its limbs together and leaving it to writhe around and scream in futility.

“Gatherer,” the Shadowed One bellowed, “what happened?”

The hunter caught his breath, exhausted from chasing down Savage. “There’s been a break in,” he stammered, “two Matoran and an Agori. And a lot of empty cells.”

From behind the throne, a familiar voice chuckled. Darkness frowned as he turned to face Malum, still encased in a seal of protodermis.

“The storm is coming,” the exile said. “The tighter your grip, the more that slips through your fingers.”

The Shadowed One hummed softly, and turned back to Sentrakh. His loyal guard had dropped the Barraki to the ground, letting the traitor writhe in pain. In Sentrakh’s hand was a single crimson eye, that he held out as an offering to the Shadowed One.

“Your luck never ceases to amaze me, Takadox,” the Shadowed One remarked, gently taking the eye from Sentrakh’s hand as he looked down at the treacherous scum. “Stay here, and take care of these loose ends. I will fulfill my destiny.”

Takadox quivered, holding his hand over his face as he lay limp on the ground. With his remaining eye, he looked out over the crowd of Dark Hunters, and wondered to himself just how many of their injuries had been the work of their own master.

Sentrakh growled, and the platform slowly lowered to the ground. As the throne descended, the Shadowed One gripped his staff tightly in anticipation.

But he was interrupted once more, as yet another intruder entered the chamber unannounced. A lone figure sprinted into the hall, only to stop in her tracks, locking eyes with the ruler.

The Shadowed One grinned. “Lariska,” he said, “how kind of you to join us.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Chaos erupted in the Rahi pens. Encaged creatures clawed at their cells as the battle with the Kardas shook the whole room. The walls groaned ominously as the dragon destroyed more and more, threatening to send the Rahi plummeting to their dooms.

As the dragon’s claws dug into the stone floor, tremors rumbled throughout the chamber, sending Hydraxon and Tyrant falling to the ground. Of the team, Krahka was managing her situation the best, shapeshifting into an airborne Rahi to combat the Kardas, all while sneaking in attempted shots at Roodaka.

For her part, Roodaka was having fun. Riding the monstrous creature gave her a sense of power she hadn’t felt since Botar had captured her on Xia, and she was relishing every moment of it. At last, she had come to command enough power to make her mark.

Looking up, she spotted Tyrant across the room, and groaned. She had tried to enlist the Dark Hunter’s assistance in the escape, but he seemed content to run around and fire his blaster in all different directions, being no help to either side.

“Must I do everything myself?” Roodaka sighed, pulling back on the chains. Within a moment, the Kardas fired a destructive blast from its jaws, and only a black mark remained where the Dark Hunter once stood.

“Enough!” Krahka yelled, “you’ve done enough harm, witch!”

Roodaka cackled devilishly, and leaned back as a swipe of the Kardas’ claw batted the flying shapeshifter out of the air. “This has been fun,” she hummed merrily, “but I have some unfinished business with the Shadowed One to attend to.” Glancing to the now unstable structure of the room, she grinned. With a flap of its massive wings, the Kardas dragon roared as it slowly rose into the air. Pointing its claws upwards, it rocketed off, tearing through the ceiling above and sending debris flying everywhere.

Hydraxon coughed, running to the fallen Rahi. “Come on!” he shouted, “We need to go!”

“No!” Krahka shot back, taking the Toa form once more. “We need to free them!”

Looking to the back wall, Hydraxon looked upon the rows and rows of encaged Rahi she was referring to, that would be sentenced to a painful demise if they were left in the room. The floor shuddered, signaling that it was about to give way. The logical side of Hydraxon’s mind told him that there was no time for this, but he ignored it. “Alright,” he said, aiming his clawed weapon at the nearby cage. “Let’s make this quick.”

“Hydraxon!” cried a voice from the doorway. Turning his head, the silver armored jailer watched as two Matoran and an Agori scrambled into the rapidly crumbling room. His eyes widened in recognition as they ran up to him.

“Who are they?” Krahka asked.

“We’re the ones saving you,” Metus said, “so you’d better be grateful.”

“Ignore him,” Gavla shot back, “Hydraxon, what’s going on?”

The jailer gave pause, stunned at the sight of the trio. “I’ll explain later,” he said. “Ahkmou, Gavla…”

“Metus,” the Ice Agori finished. “Now let’s get out of here!”

“Not yet,” he snapped, pointing to the Rahi cages. “We’re not leaving until they’re free.”

A grateful smile spread across Krahka's face.

Ahkmou, on the other hand, looked on with dread as he stared up at the lines of imprisoned Rahi. “Of course.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Lariska’s entrance was followed by a moment that seemed to last an eternity. She hadn’t expected quite so many Dark Hunters to still be remaining here, but it made sense that the breakout had caused some delays in the Shadowed One’s plan. Her mind raced through different options. Should she continue playing to her master’s side? Or reveal her true intentions?

As Sentrakh, ever loyal to the Shadowed One, growled at her presence, she realized she was out of options. Whether her former master knew for sure she had betrayed him, it did not matter. He suspected her, and that was enough for him.

Disregarding all else, she held her daggers behind her back, and charged forward, straight to the throne of her former master.

Seated atop his throne, the Shadowed One watched with glee as the first group of hunters charged at her, racing into battle. He had no doubt that Lariska could defeat these hunters, they were far from his best members. He would be sure to end the fight before any of them died, of course, but letting her have her last stand was far too tantalizing to him. He had come this far, after all. He deserved to enjoy it.

Behind him, Sentrakh, Darkness, and the Recorder all watched on, none of them able to comprehend what the Shadowed One could be thinking.

Lancing forward with her daggers, Lariska jabbed quickly at Fero, a raider from Bara Magna who had joined the Dark Hunters after the battle. He and his Bone Hunters may have posed a threat to the Agori villagers, but he was far out of his depth here.

Only two things stopped Lariska from killing Fero, however. One, was her dedication to keeping the Dark Hunters alive. If she killed the Shadowed One, she could very well be the new master of the organization, with all the power it entailed. While it wasn’t her main objective, the thought was tantalizing enough to keep in mind.

The other reason, though, was because Lurker had yet to let up on her.

The crimson armored Dark Hunter battered Lariska with a flurry of strikes from his stinger armaments. The attacks were light and fleeting, but they were enough to keep Lariska on her toes.

“Give it up!” Lurker barked, jabbing wildly at his acrobatic opponent. “You can’t face the Shadowed One!”

Lariska frowned, running from the hailstorm of claws that chased her down. She looked ahead of her as Fero ran for his life, wisely deciding that this battle was too much for him. Unfortunately for him, Lariska didn’t plan to let him escape it.

Lunging forward, she managed to grab the Agori by the shoulders and swing him around just as Lurker caught up to her. By the time the crimson armored warrior had realized what had happened, it was far too late for him to halt his attack, and his claws pierced Fero’s armor.

“Gah!” the Agori groaned, wincing in pain as Lurker’s appendage pried open his chestplate. The weapon hadn’t struck too deep, but the pain was still rather unpleasant. “Let go!”

Lariska slowly rose to her feet, catching her breath as she watched the amusing sight of Lurker trying to pry his claws away from Fero’s armor. As the battle quieted down, her hearing became quickly attuned to the sound of galloping footsteps racing towards her.

Thinking quickly, she leapt into the air, narrowly dodging as a large warrior raced in from the left, charging at her with his horns pointed forward.

As she landed, she sized up her attacker as he skidded to a halt. This Dark Hunter, named Charger, was once a Kane-Ra, and still fought like one. She didn’t know what it was that had transformed him, only that it had made him smarter than the average Rahi, but still dumber than just about anything else.

“Hey! Muaka bait!” she called out, taunting him while clanging her daggers together. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Charger snorted, steam billowing from his snout. Kicking back his legs, he took off running headfirst towards Lariska, preparing to impale her on his horns.

Good, she thought to herself, turning on a heel to face Lurker. Fero had just managed to pry himself free from the crimson hunter’s claws, but Lurker had kept him from leaving the battle.

“That’s enough,” he growled.

“I agree,” Lariska said, before flipping back through the air. Emerging from behind where she had been standing, Charger rushed forward, his momentum already too powerful to stop. But even if he wanted to, animalistic fury had cast a red haze over his vision, and he was unable to discern Lurker from his true opponent.

Lurker’s eyes widened as he realized he had been trapped once more. The opening was just large enough for Fero to escape, but Lurker was not so lucky. Charger’s horns quickly pinned him, slamming into the nearby wall.

Lariska spared only a passing glance at the scene before continuing onward, leaping up to grab onto the edge of the Shadowed One’s platform. Lurker would eventually escape from Charger’s hold, she knew, but the Shadowed One would be dead by that point.

Pulling herself up, she glared at the Shadowed One, her visual daggers almost as sharp as the ones she was itching to carve him up with.

“Is this all you think I can handle?” She demanded. “Don’t insult me.”

From his seat, the Shadowed One simply grinned, and outstretched his arm. Behind Lariska, two more Dark Hunters made their way onto the platform, each hoping to be the one to defeat her.

Lariska whirled around to face the first of the hunters, Conjurer. He lunged forward at her with a staff that, if he was to be believed, had the potential to disintegrate anyone it touched. She didn’t know if that was true, and didn’t care to find out, so she swung one of her daggers into the staff’s end, forcing it to the side.

“You’re playing a foolish game, girl,” Conjurer hissed, spinning his staff back around. “That throne is meant for–”

“For you?” Lariska taunted, before kicking him square in the chest. She was running out of patience, and was eager to end this fight, but was forced to dodge as the second hunter swooped in for an attack. This one was called ‘Mimic’, for his uncanny ability to replicate the abilities of anyone he met. Anything Lariska had in her arsenal, he would be able to match.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Mimic interjected, prepared to parry any attack Lariska threw at him. “The throne belongs to the Shadowed One. You’re getting in the way.”

Lariska scoffed, taking a step back. “You know, I heard about why you joined the Dark Hunters. Your lost friend, the one the Shadowed One promised he would help you find.”

Mimic frowned, his fists clenching on instinct. “Don’t play this game. You don’t know where she is, and if you did, I’d kill you.”

“You’re right,” Lariska replied. “I don’t know. But Conjurer does.”

His eyes widened for just a moment, as he turned back to the bronze armored Dark Hunter. But before he could question him, Lariska had swept him off of his feet, sending him flying off of the platform.

“Just kidding,” she said, before ducking low as Conjurer swung at her once more. This time, she grabbed his staff as it swung past and yanked it hard in the opposite direction. Conjurer’s grip on the staff loosened just as his feet were swept off of the platform, and he plummeted to the ground below.

Rising back up to her feet, Lariska turned around and stared down the Shadowed One. Beside him, Sentrakh growled ferociously, but he signaled for his bodyguard to be calm.

“Let’s wrap this up,” the master of the Dark Hunters said.

Lariska’s eyes narrowed, and her right hand rested on her bag. Inside rested a zamor sphere and a launcher, the tools she would need to finally end this. “Yes,” she said, “let’s.”

Without another moment, she leapt forward, dagger in hand, and pounced on the Shadowed One. Standing above him, pressing a foot square on his chest, she growled in satisfaction. There had been less resistance than she had expected from him, but she was hardly about to complain.

“Got you,” she hissed, holding up her dagger with one hand and retrieving the zamor sphere from her bag with the other. “They have no true loyalty. When you fall, the Dark Hunters will turn to me.”

The Shadowed One simply smirked mischievously. “Maybe,” he said, in a strange voice that did not belong to him. “But what makes you think it’ll be different for you?”

His words barely sank in before Lariska realized something was wrong. She had only a moment to be confused, before her target suddenly shrunk down, his armor morphing and condensing into an unfamiliar shape. In the Shadowed One’s throne now sat the shapeshifter, Triglax, looking up at Lariska with a devious glare.

“Sorry,” he said. “You were so close.”

Her eyes widening with realization, Lariska suddenly became attuned to the sound of a dimensional portal opening up in the space behind her. Knowing she had little time, she drew the zamor launcher from her bag, and whirled around, pointing it straight ahead.

But her effort proved to be in vain, for Sentrakh had already marched up to her, and fired off a blast of shadow energy.

Lariska keeled over in pain, dropping the zamor launcher to the ground as the energies moved through her. Her vision became obscured by a cloudy mist, as she felt herself drifting off into the realm of unconsciousness, with only the thoughts of her failure to accompany her. She was powerless.

The last thing she heard was the Shadowed One’s laughter.

“Don’t worry,” his voice echoed. “You will live to see the end.”