Chapter Eleven

Metus clung tightly to the leg of the massive Ussal crab, his fingers clawing at the carapace as he held on for dear life. His pursuit of the Tahtorak thus far had been unsuccessful, each time it managed to outpace him before he could climb atop it. So he switched to a different plan, using the other shapeshifter to hitch a ride onto the massive dragon.

What he was not prepared for, however, was for the beast to change shape once again. Slowly but surely, the leg of the Ussal shifted into a clawed avian foot, as the being took the form of the Nivawk and began soaring into the air. Helplessly, Metus held on tightly with his right hand, still holding a zamor launcher in his left, as the bird Rahi took him high up into the sky.

For Triglax, as he weaved through the sky, he never had felt quite so powerful. The Shadowed One often kept him on espionage missions, never with an opportunity to truly test out his abilities. But now, as he tried out the forms of such massive beasts, it was as though he was in a tiny playground, as his fellow Dark Hunters screamed and raced out of the way of his destruction. He was invincible.

Of course, invincibility did not prevent him from being annoyed. As he soared through the air with Nivawk’s wings, he soon became aware of the Agori clinging onto his foot, throwing him off balance. Frowning, he shook the small being loose, letting him fall onto the Tahtorak’s back, before diving down himself. As he landed on the Tahtorak’s back, he assumed the form of a gray-armored Toa, and immediately sent out a massive blast of sound energy.

Behind him, Metus winced in pain, doing his best to shield his ears both from the Toa’s attack and the Tahtorak’s roar. He had managed to regain his bearings, but he was quickly regretting his decision to save the day.

The Krahka-Tahtorak turned her head, glaring out of the side of her vision at the rival shapeshifter. “Fool!” she boomed, in a voice that she had so often heard demanding some kind of answer. “You think one Toa could stop me? It took six Toa Metru to defeat me before!”

A devilish grin stretched across Triglax’s face. “Six, you say? I could manage that.”

The shapeshifter quickly racked his memory. He had never met the Toa Metru, no, but he had encountered a team of Toa before. During his time on Destral, when the Brotherhood of Makuta had enlisted the service of the Dark Hunters, he had contended with Teridax’s honor guard as they tried to liberate the Mask of Light.

With a solid image of the Toa Hagah in mind, Triglax began to construct his new form. Bomonga’s strength, Iruini’s agility, and Gaaki’s wisdom, all merged into one being. Six pairs of arms sprouted out from his back, growing out like tree branches, as a mighty tail made of their spears and rhotuka shields grew out from his rear. As he grew on the height of all twelve of their legs, he found his mind flooded with Kualus’ knowledge of Rahi and Norik’s burden of leadership. His shoulders were armored with the Kanohi masks of each Toa, granting him additional powers. He felt the pride of Pouks creeping in, as he became far more powerful than he had ever been.

At last, he stood tall, an amalgamation of six Toa Hagah. Far below him, Metus watched on in horror, having not seen a being of such power since the golden monster he had faced on Aqua Magna. But this time, he swore he would not run.

Looking down at his new body through the eyes of the Mask of Growth, Triglax grinned in satisfaction. “Do you hear me, Krahka?” He barked in the voice of all six Toa. “When I began this fight, I had hoped only to get you out of the Shadowed One’s way. But now?” He looked down at his twelve hands, feeling the elemental energy dwelling within his body. “Now, you’ve opened my eyes to power I never dreamt of.”

With hungry eyes, he held his hands forward, and prepared to charge a blast of six elements at once. Glowing energy rushed through body, crackling at his fingertips. Nothing could possibly stop him.

“Maybe I’ll rule the Dark Hunters! Maybe I’ll overthrow the Shadowed One and take this world by force! Maybe I’ll–”

You always did know how to make me feel better, Norik.

The strange voice echoing in his mind gave him some pause. They weren’t words he ever remembered hearing, nor was it a voice he recognized, but it sounded as clear as though it were spoken by someone standing right beside him.

Stay calm. I know things look dark right now, but we will see each other again, I promise.

These words sounded more distant, as though they floated through his mind like a dream. He darted his head back and forth, trying to track down the source of the voices, but to no avail.

Metus frowned as he watched the amalgamation stare off into space, energy still coalescing at his hands but not firing off. What had caused this shapeshifter to stop?

“Is something the matter, Triglax?” asked the Krahka-Tahtorak, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “Have you bitten off more than you can chew?”

Good. Now, slash like this… whistle like this… and click like this. By telling her this, you’re making sure she knows you’re friendly.

The words of a mentor that Triglax had never met drifted through his mind, and a tinge of sadness he couldn’t understand overcame him.

Seekers of shadow, his mind echoed, filling him with inexplicable dread. At first, I thought the Visorak were the only danger… until I saw them.

Roodaka. The name tolled in his mind like a bell, forcing him to look up. The Vortixx rode above him, firing upon his comrades from the comfort of her mount, the Kardas Dragon. Some parts of his mind felt fearful of her, while others were itching for a fight.

“I learned long ago that too much power can be a curse,” the dragon Rahi taunted. “I was wise enough to let it go, but I doubt you’re that smart. You Dark Hunters are easy to come by. Me? I am the last of my kind. I do what I must to survive.”

The shapeshifting Rahi’s words danced in and out of Triglax’s mind, and he was unsure of where his senses ended and the memories of the Toa Hagah began. He fell to his knees, trying desperately to command his body, but they were muscles he no longer recognized, and a mind that was not his own.

“Dirty Rahi,” he grumbled. “You charge like a Kikinalo, sneak like a stone rat–” He gasped, realizing that the words that had escaped his mouth were someone else’s. Thoughts that didn’t belong to him were willing words he didn’t mean. Six more minds had occupied his body, and they were battling for dominance.

Relent to me! A nightmarish entity screamed in his mind, louder than even the sounds of his own screaming until both merged in the same voice: “I wish… I didn’t have to be a Toa Hagah anymore.”

Losing track of his own consciousness amidst the dreams and memories of the Toa Hagah, Triglax found himself sharing the same wish. He didn’t want to be the Toa Hagah anymore. Any of them.

“Stop this!” he cried out, clawing his fingers into the Tahtorak’s scales. As he did, each set of arms seemed to spread further and further apart. The more and more he desperately tried to return to his true form, the more the body parts of the amalgamation tried to tear themselves away. A terrible feeling dawned on him, and he didn’t need Gaaki’s Mask of Clairvoyance to know what would happen next.

“Feels like… Being ripped apart!” With a roar, he raised twelve hands into the sky, and tried in vain to dispel the elemental energy that had built up within him. But instead of unleashing his power in a blast, the energy traveled within, filling up every inch of his being with chaotic and powerful energies, until they could no longer be contained inside. Flames ate away at his muscle tissue as water flooded his veins. His last breaths were heightened by the power of air, only for his lungs to be clogged with earth and stone. His body froze stiff as ice, unable to move as the force of six Toa’s powers was unloaded within him. His eyes glowed brightly, the energies glowing brighter and brighter until they overwhelmed everything. Even the Krahka-Tahtorak squinted, unable to see through the violent eruption of light and energy.

Triglax’s screams were the last sound he ever made.

Clinging tightly to the back of the dragon Rahi, Metus looked up, blinking rapidly as the lights at last stopped. There was no longer any sign of Triglax, only scraps of armor and organic matter. The area around the Tahtorak was littered with broken spear tips and Kanohi masks, abandoned in the sands as the Krahka-Tahtorak marched onward.

With a huff, the Krahka-Tahtorak looked back to its target, grateful to be rid of the distraction the other shapeshifter had created. Swiping at Roodaka’s mount, she continued the pursuit, oblivious to the Ice Agori that was slowly scaling her neck.

Wiping Toa remains off of his armor, Metus continued onward.

✴        ✴        ✴

Hydraxon grunted as he crawled through the narrow corridors of the airship. Leaping from the cannon of the Skopio had been difficult enough, especially with the pair of Glatorian fighting below him, but he had at last made it onboard. Now, he was nearing the chamber where Nektann had told him the Shadowed One would be hiding.

But as he at last shoved open the metal door, the observation deck was almost completely empty. All he saw was a large window showing a view of the Tesara jungle up ahead, various control consoles left vacant, and discarded weapons littering the floor.

In the center of the room lay Lariska, bound in chains.

He frowned. Surely, this had to be a trap. But if it meant drawing out the Shadowed One…

We can’t leave her, echoed Dekar’s voice in his mind.

“I wasn’t about to,” Hydraxon replied.

Without hesitation, the jailer moved to free her. Once she had taken notice of him, she suddenly perked up. “Hydraxon,” she began, “I’m sor–”

“Enough of that,” Hydraxon interjected, finally freeing her from her chains. “We both want him out of the picture. Are you going to help me fight him?”

Lariska’s eyes widened. She had expected the jailer to seek vengeance, but he seemed to have no ill intent. As she rose up to her feet, she nodded.

“Then let us finish this,” the jailer said.

A creeping laugh echoed throughout the room, drawing the pair’s attention. From the shadows, the leader of the Dark Hunters slowly emerged, accompanied by his eternally loyal bodyguard. Hydraxon quickly drew his weapons, while handing one of Takadox’s daggers to Lariska.

“You have done well to make it this far,” the Shadowed One sneered. “This has been a battle that will no doubt go down in history. But I’m afraid that your journey ends here.”

His crimson gaze rested on Lariska. “Not long ago, you told me that when you killed me, I would see it coming.” He scoffed. “If this is your attempt, I am unimpressed.”

“I don’t give a stone rat’s ass,” Lariska spat, balancing the dagger in her hand. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me.”

Slowly raising his twin claws, Hydraxon spoke sternly. “You have been allowed to continue this for too long. Surrender yourself.”

The Shadowed One’s lip curled upwards. “It was not so long ago that Toa Helryx came to recruit my Dark Hunters in her war against the Makuta. Oh yes, I know all about your Order, jailer. I happen to be an ally.”

“That will not win you any favors,” Hydraxon shot back. “You have long since crossed the line of reproach.”

Sentrakh growled, only to halt at the Shadowed One’s signal. “Very well, then,” the dark lord conceded. “Normally, I would have Sentrakh, or one of my other hunters destroy you both. Or perhaps, keep you preserved as trophies. But the way of this new world is that of combat, and I would be remiss not to learn their customs before conquering it.” Drawing his staff, he hissed, assuming a fighting stance.

“Now… Show your might against your new ruler!”

✴        ✴        ✴

Strakk grunted as he pressed his full weight against his axe, still failing to make his opponent budge.

“You’re weak,” Malum growled, shoving the Glatorian to the side with a mighty heave. “Worse than that, you’re a coward.”

With strained breath, the former Glatorian of Iconox rose to his feet, fetching his axe. “Wrong. I was a coward before. Now, I get to serve something better.”

Malum’s brow furrowed. “Where is this dedication coming from?” He growled, and lunged forward at his prey, instantly tackling him to the ground. “I heard about the cause for your exile, attacking your opponent after he yielded. Ironic.” Strakk struggled to escape, but the exile forced him down. “Why would you throw away your career like that?”

“Don’t know,” his opponent grunted, inching away for breath. “It was like something just… came over me. Maybe I was just tired of losing. Tired of being a coward.”

“So you attacked an opponent when his guard was down?”

Strakk smirked. “Hey, it worked out for you.”

Malum scoffed, and brought the tip of his flame claw to Strakk’s neck. “You would have never made it as an exile.”

“You’re right,” Strakk shot back. “That’s why I made new friends.”

The exile moved to land a killing blow on Strakk, before he became acutely aware of a humming sound growing progressively louder just behind him. Turning his head, he watched as the force blaster attached to the vehicle’s tail aimed straight at him, glowing with powerful energy.

“That, and I carry a big gun,” Strakk added.

With a heave, Malum grabbed his foe by the shoulders and leapt from the cockpit of the vehicle, just as a blast of energy struck. Within an instant, the Skopio burst into pieces, the sheer force of the blast knocking the two former Glatorian several feet away from the traveling caravan. Even the Shadowed One’s airship seemed to be shaken by the blast.

Picking his head up out of the sand, Malum watched the fiery explosion with great confusion. “You… idiot…” he panted. “Why… why would you do that?”

Beside him, Strakk lay defeated in the sand. “I was hoping… it would kill you…” He wheezed, laughing breathlessly. “I thought… I could earn his respect…” With that, Strakk’s time ticked to zero, and he passed out.

Malum slowly rose to his feet, and looked down upon the unconscious Ice Glatorian. This cause Strakk had devoted himself to was idiotic, and had nearly gotten him killed. Whether it was bravery or stupidity, Malum knew there was something within Strakk that hadn’t been there before.

As he looked back to the remains of the Skopio XV-1, he wondered just what it was about these machines that had the ability to change the lives of the warriors that preceded them. Where did they learn such bravery?

Perhaps, Malum wondered, like the Vorox, there is more to them than I first suspected.

✴        ✴        ✴

Adrenaline pumped through Lariska’s body as she hung from the rafters of the observation deck, swinging across to avoid the Shadowed One’s eye beams. She was eager to finish the fight, but she knew better than to rush it.

On the other hand, the master of the Dark Hunters was all too happy to take his time. Seeing Lariska fall would only be more satisfying the more fight she put up.

A large blast outside rocked the ship, sending Hydraxon stumbling forward. For all the skills that Hydraxon and Dekar’s memories had to offer, this fight still proved to be a challenge. His saving grace, however, seemed to be that the Shadowed One was too intent on his personal vengeance against Lariska to bother finishing him off.

As he rose back up to his feet, he prepared to charge at the Shadowed One once more, only for something to strike him in the back. Quickly recovering, he turned on a heel and spotted Shadow Stealer emerging from the shadows on the ground, as though he were surfacing from a pool of water.

“You again,” Hydraxon cursed. “I was told that we would be fighting the Shadowed One alone.”

“His life isn’t yours to take,” the Dark Hunter spat. “You won’t rob me of my duty again.”

Hydraxon scoffed. “I didn’t rob you of anything. You’re confused.”

Shadow Stealer’s expression grew darker in an instant. He dove into the shadow of a cloud passing by on the floor, and quickly reemerged, battering Hydraxon with a flurry of attacks.

“You kept my purpose from me!” Shadow Stealer roared, his blades clashing with Hydraxon’s own. “You left me with these criminals and lowlifes! All this time, I could have been a part of something greater!”

“That was your choice,” Hydraxon replied, knocking the Dark Hunter to the ground. “You left the Hand of Artakha, no one made that decision for you.” He continued pursuing his opponent, only for him to disappear into a shadow once more.

Turning back, Hydraxon took the opportunity to make a move on the Shadowed One, drawing his attention away as Lariska landed a strike on his side. The dark ruler grabbed his fresh wound in pain, and looked up to see Hydraxon pouncing on him. Thinking quickly, he lanced out two of his eyebeams, singing the edges of Hydraxon’s armor. With a grunt, the jailer fell to the side.

“Fools,” the Shadowed One roared, swinging his staff back to knock Lariska off of her feet. “I have not come this far to–”

He stopped suddenly, sensing something wrong. Abruptly, he leapt backwards, just before Shadow Stealer emerged from the shadows beneath him, lunging forward with his blades.

“There you are!” the Shadowed One exclaimed, instantly meeting his surprise attack with a clawed hand and slamming Shadow Stealer to the ground in a chokehold. “I was wondering when you would return!”

Struggling to breathe, Shadow Stealer quickly resubmerged into the shadows, escaping his former master’s grasp.

Before the Shadowed One could rise back up, Lariska pounced on his back, raising up a dagger to stab him. He growled as he tried to shake her off, flailing wildly.

Meanwhile, Dekar was living through a flood of memories within his mind's eye. He was seeing a much younger world through the eyes of a much younger Hydraxon, at a time where he and this strange hunter were allies. They were heroes of the land, idolized by the Matoran.

Then, there was a fight. Shadow Stealer wanted to fulfill himself more, to get out and find his purpose, while Hydraxon was unwilling to abandon his duty. It was the last time Hydraxon had seen him.

You two used to be friends, I guess? Dekar asked.

“Coworkers is more accurate,” Hydraxon replied aloud, ducking low as Shadow Stealer emerged once more from the dark ceiling.

You both cared about protecting Matoran. About doing the right thing. He didn’t abandon his post for no reason.

Hydraxon’s eyes widened. “I’ll figure out why.”

Lariska landed uneasily on the ground, having been flung off of the Shadowed One’s back. Drawing Takadox’s dagger from her holster once more, she flung it through the air, watching it just narrowly miss its mark. Anticipating a counterattack, she lunged to the side, just as her former master’s eye beams struck the ground beneath her.

He hasn’t used his rhotuka yet, Lariska realized. That must mean it’s his last resort. Snarling, she retrieved her dagger from the ground, and lunged forward at her opponent once more. Slicing the back of his knee, she took some pleasure in his screams of agony, before retreating back.

Let’s get him there faster, she decided. He dies today.

“Listen to me!” Hydraxon bellowed, chasing Shadow Stealer down. The Dark Hunter retreated into another shadow, sending Hydraxon crashing into the metal floor. “I don’t know why you left, but I don’t want to be your enemy!”

“Don’t you remember anything?” came Shadow Stealer’s response, descending upon Hydraxon with his blades pointed forward.

Well, that’s a bit of a touchy subject, Dekar remarked.

Hydraxon grunted, throwing Shadow Stealer out of the way, only for the Dark Hunter to crash into the Shadowed One. Enraged, the master of the Dark Hunters moved to stomp on Shadow Stealer, only for Lariska to pierce a dagger into her former master’s foot.

“What’s going on?” Lariska demanded, catching her breath.

Hydraxon grunted, ducking low to avoid an attack from Shadow Stealer. “Just keep working on him. I’ll help you once I’m finished.”

Shadow Stealer roared, lunging at Hydraxon once more. “You couldn’t understand. How long I spent wandering, fighting off anyone who came my way, all while you had the chance to make a difference in this forsaken universe!”

“That wasn’t your only choice,” the jailer sputtered, falling to his knees as he dodged out of the way of the Shadowed One’s attack. “You didn’t have to–”

“There was nowhere else!” Shadow Stealer’s blades crashed with Hydraxon’s, metal scraping against metal, making an awful sound. “Mata Nui forgot about us… He forgot about me.”

“Mata Nui didn’t forget us,” Hydraxon retorted, pushing his opponent back. “You may not have been part of the Order, but you still could have been a hero.”

Shadow Stealer stood tall for a moment, before grimacing. “Then let me finish this.”

Hydraxon shook his head. “I can’t let you kill the Shadowed One. But you can help me capture him.”

“When did you grow soft?!” he balked.

“Not soft,” Hydraxon replied. “Pragmatic. His survival means the Order obtains information about the Dark Hunters. The kind of thing we could use to finally bring them to an end.”

“And his death would be the justice he deserves,” Shadow Stealer hissed. “It would save countless lives.”

“Maybe,” Hydraxon replied. “But that's not why you're doing this, is it?”

Shadow Stealer growled, but stowed his blades. “In the last days of the Hand’s existence, I watched as the Toa began to take our place in the world. We were heroes in a world that had a surplus of them. I left because I didn’t want to become redundant.” He locked eyes with Hydraxon, still filled with rage. “Only later did I discover that the Order had been serving the very purpose I pursued for so long… Without me.”

But he doesn’t have to do it without you, Dekar echoed.

Hydraxon rose up to his feet once more. “I’m sorry. I didn’t take your grievances seriously when you left. Perhaps, if I had, we could have been fighting on the same side in the Destiny War.” He extended a hand. “You may have served our enemy once, but that doesn’t matter now. You can be a part of something greater.”

For just a moment, Shadow Stealer looked Hydraxon up and down, and chuckled breathlessly. “I find it hard to believe that you value me this much.”

“I didn't, before,” Hydraxon replied. “I thought that connections were a weakness, that lives were to be traded… that's false.”

Shadow Stealer paused before responding. “Tell me this, old friend; is this Order truly what it’s made out to be? Do you have a purpose here?”

Hydraxon let out a long exhale. “It’s not the first time I’ve been asked that question,” he said. “I’ve been a warrior, a hunter, a teacher, and a warden. I’ve been powerful, and I’ve been powerless. But today, I’ve done what I need to do.” He nodded, as if confirming it to himself as well as to Shadow Stealer. “No matter who I am, no matter what form I take, this is where I belong.”

Shadow Stealer smirked. “Then today, I will fight by your side.”

With that, the two warriors turned their attention back to the Shadowed One, still battling Lariska. Drawing their weapons, they charged into battle, fighting alongside each other for the first time in many millennia.

✴        ✴        ✴

Gracefully cutting through the sky, the Kardas Dragon narrowly weaved between the Krahka-Tahtorak’s claws, emerging unharmed once more. Another roar erupted from the shapeshifter, signaling her frustration.

To Roodaka, this was good. The beast would just cause more chaos, unintentionally playing into her hand.

To the Dark Hunters down below, this was bad. Each failed swipe at the Kardas Dragon only resulted in another vehicle getting stepped on. By now, the fleet was significantly smaller, both as a result of casualties, and various Dark Hunters turning tail and leaving.

As the shapeshifter marched forward in hot pursuit of the viceroy, she soon became aware of something crawling up her back. Whatever it was, it hadn’t attacked her yet, so she disregarded it for the moment.

To Metus, this was quite fortunate. Clinging onto one of the Krahka-Tahtorak’s scales with his left hand, clutching his zamor launcher with his right, he was grateful not to accidentally incur the wrath of the massive dragon.

This is stupid, Metus grumbled to himself, as he slowly scaled the dragon’s spine. Suicidal, even. Since when have I had a death wish? Despite his numerous complaints, the Agori continued onward, determined to reach the top.

His legs quivered as he stood just atop the Tahtorak’s horn, the launcher nearly slipping from his grasp. As he watched the Kardas Dragon pass overhead, he knew he only had a few seconds to enact his plan.

This is it, he said to himself, be the hero.

It took every fiber of his being not to shut his eyes in fear as he pointed the zamor launcher straight up into the air. One quick finger pulled the trigger, and that was all it took.

In an instant, the zamor sphere shot upwards, a silver streak trailing behind it. Within moments, the underbelly of the Kardas Dragon was struck, sending pulsing energy throughout the Rahi’s body. Roodaka did her best to cling on, even as the energized protodermis began to envelop her mount. In its last conscious act, the dragon opened its maw, and unleashed a mighty barrage of energy, stronger than any it had breathed before.

So caught up with his success, Metus hardly noticed himself falling backwards from the head of the Tahtorak. As he slipped downwards, he just barely caught a glimpse of the ball of fire heading straight for the Shadowed One’s airship.

On either side, the scattered Dark Hunter vehicles peeled out immediately, abandoning their mission to save their own hides. The Kardas Dragon careened off into the distance, crashing into the ground miles away, with Roodaka presumably taken along for the ride.

Metus never expected being a hero to feel so strange. And as he plummeted to the ground below, he prepared for it to be the last feeling he would ever experience.

But as the Krahka-Tahtorak wrapped her tail around him, he realized he would have to live with that feeling.

✴        ✴        ✴

Lariska fell onto her face, sliding onto the airship’s windshield. As she opened her eyes, she became exposed to the carnage that waited outside, the fiery storm of machinery that scorched the desert. She watched as the caravan slowly dwindled in size, as Dark Hunters left and right abandoned their positions. She could hardly blame them.

They’re loyal to no one, she realized, as Triglax’s words drifted back into her mind. Why would I be any different?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the Shadowed One’s hand gripped her ankle, yanking her back into the battle.

“Enough!” growled the Shadowed One, slamming Lariska into the ground. Whirling around, he flung the tip of his staff into Hydraxon’s chest just before he could attack. The jailer fell to his knees, his body bruised and beaten.

As Shadow Stealer emerged once more, the master of the Dark Hunters caught him in midair, and slammed him into the ground. “I knew this day would come, ancient one,” he growled. “But this is not your fight anymore.” He pointed the tip of his staff at the fallen hunter, and encased him within a protodermis seal.

“I will deal with you soon enough,” he said, before turning his attention to Lariska. Slamming his staff forward, the rhotuka spinner began to turn.

Lariska scoffed. “This is your plan? Controlling me so I can’t fight back? You coward.”

“It has proven effective before,” the dark one muttered. “More times than you would know.”

Drawing her dagger once more, Lariska shook her head. “Not this time.”

The standoff seemed to last for an eternity. Lariska stood unafraid, the Shadowed One preparing to subdue and end her. For just a moment, everything was still.

Then, the back of the ship was engulfed with flames, metal tearing apart as the blast ripped through the structure. The four combatants were instantly scattered, free falling into the air.

Another moment passed, and all was still once more.