Conclusion

Kopaka Nuva had received many surprises in his time as a Toa. He had lost his powers, watched as his fellow Toa fell to the control of the krana, and nearly perished at the hands of the villainous Piraka. Especially now, after surviving the crash of the Red Star and fighting with his brothers for the fate of Bota Magna, he would have thought he would be ready for anything.

And yet, destiny continued to find a way to surprise him.

Patrolling the edge of the jungle he and his fellow Toa Nuva had camped out in, he had spotted a vehicle barreling towards the crash site, one he did not recognize as belonging to anyone from the camp in the desert. Activating his Akaku Nuva to investigate, he nearly jumped back in shock. Inside, the vehicle was piloted by one of the Av-Matoran he had encountered in Karda Nui, Gavla. In the passenger cabin was Hydraxon, who he had believed to be dead, Ahkmou, who had long been kept on a tight leash by Turaga Onewa, Lariska, one of the Shadowed One’s top hunters, a lone Agori, and a Toa that matched the description of Nokama’s previous form.

What he found most surprising was the list of prisoners they had in tow. Bound in the back of the vehicle were a Glatorian, Sentrakh, and, although he could hardly believe it, the Shadowed One.

How this ragtag team had come together, Kopaka did not know. How they managed to capture such a dangerous prisoner, he could not fathom. More than a few questions ran through his mind as the vehicle came closer and closer. As the caravan at last came to a halt, Kopaka traveled alone to meet the pilots.

First out of the top hatch of the vehicle was Hydraxon, waving his arm in the air. “We come in peace, Toa Kopaka,” he reported calmly.

“I believe you,” the Toa replied. “But I am going to have to ask that you explain… whatever it is that’s going on here.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Hydraxon was certain that Kopaka regretted asking. As the jailer began to explain what had happened, Lariska and the others quickly got to work on keeping the prisoners restrained within the vehicle. Pohatu and Gali had joined in conversing with Hydraxon as well, but none of the three Toa had been prepared for the story of what transpired over the past few days.

“You tore down the Dark Hunters,” Pohatu said, hardly able to believe it. “I mean, I destroyed their fortress before, but you…”

Hydraxon shook his head. “Their master is captured, but I wouldn’t count out the Dark Hunters yet. They’re out there, somewhere, and I don’t think they’ll be too happy about their master being captured.”

“Still, this is a massive blow to their forces,” Gali mused. “No chance they’ll try something this bold anytime soon.”

An unusual feeling of nostalgia began to rise within Hydraxon. He watched from afar as Tahu met with Lariska, getting caught up to speed on recent events, while Onua did his best to restrain the Shadowed One. As he spoke with the Toa Nuva, he couldn’t help but reminisce on some memories his former self had, back when he had trained them, when they had been Toa Mata. Of course, that had been a different life for each of them, and he doubted that they still remembered him.

As Gali and Pohatu congratulated Hydraxon on his victory, Kopaka watched him intently. He would have been happy to accept the aid he offered, but while the memories he had recently recovered of his former trainer were warm ones, the sights he had seen in recent days still chilled him to the bone.

“I only have one question,” the Toa Nuva of Ice said.

“Ask away,” Hydraxon replied.

Kopaka paused for a moment, unsure of how to start. “I don’t know what the Order knows of the Red Star, or if any rumors of its nature made their way to the camp. But when Pohatu and I were there, we saw many who were… Those who died in our old universe were resurrected there.”

As Kopaka spoke, Pohatu’s eyes widened, catching onto what his brother was referring to. “Some of the deceased we met there managed to get on with their sanity intact,” he explained. “Others… not so much.”

Kopaka’s icy gaze met Hydraxon’s eyes. “You were there, among the latter.”

Hydraxon nodded, a bit too calmly by Kopaka’s judgment. “Hydraxon, the one who existed before, is dead. When the Great Cataclysm struck, the prisoners of the Pit escaped, and one of them put an end to the jailer.” He paused, reflecting for just a moment on the death he had long grappled with. “When the Mask of Life came to be in Mahri Nui, it fell into the possession of a Matoran named Dekar, and transformed him into… Well, me. Dekar, as he was before, is also dead.”

Gali frowned. “Who are you, then?”

He looked up, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he had an answer.

“I am all of Hydraxon, but also all of Dekar,” he said. “I am both of their experiences combined into one being. But most importantly, I am the jailer of this world. Rest assured, my commitment to bringing wrongdoers to justice has not wavered.”

Nice speech, rang Hydraxon’s voice in his mind. You almost sound like a Toa.

When words failed both of her brothers, Gali spoke. “Your situation is… confusing, to say the least,” she said. “But these are confusing times. We thought that Mata Nui had ushered us into a time of peace, but instead, we are surrounded by chaos and death. Many secrets are coming to light, many imposters have been revealed. It is hard to know who we can trust.”

“But if what you’re saying is true, then we would be happy to have you on our side,” Kopaka added. “After all, it was you who trained us.”

Hydraxon’s eyes widened, as he realized that he and the Toa Nuva had recognized each other at last. “A light dawns,” he said. “And much more quickly than last time.”

Pohatu shrugged. “We returned home, not too long ago. Took a trip down memory lane.”

“So I see,” the jailer mused. “You two have become fine warriors in my absence.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Kopaka remarked. “It’s been a long road to get here, and I fear we’ve only just begun.”

Hydraxon nodded slowly. “I hope I can aid you well on your next adventures. But for right now, I think we’ve earned a moment to celebrate.”

Swinging an arm over his brother’s shoulder, Lewa interjected himself into the conversation. “I’ll say! You’ve grab-napped the everbad Shadowed One! Nice work!”

“Yeah,” Kopaka added. “Nice work.”

A rare, genuine smile crept across the jailer’s face. He couldn’t recall the last time that either Dekar or Hydraxon had felt quite so proud.

“Come on, then,” he chuckled. “I’m long overdue to hear your chronicles.”

✴        ✴        ✴

From afar, Krahka watched the jailer receive his accolades from the Toa Nuva. She had received her own fair share of congratulations, but she wasn’t going to stay for long. At the edge of the camp, she prepared to make her exit, forgoing any long goodbyes.

“What about you?” asked a familiar voice beside her.

Looking down, she smiled as Turaga Vakama hobbled up beside her, leaning on his firestaff. It was still odd to see him like this, having only been briefly acquainted with him after his transformation into a Turaga, but his presence was nonetheless comforting.

Krahka shrugged. “What about me?”

“The last time we met was during Makuta’s reign,” Vakama explained. “You had joined Tahu’s team, along with Lariska and a few others. You told me that Makuta posed a threat to us both, so it would make sense to join forces.”

“And it did,” the shapeshifter agreed.

“The Makuta is gone,” Vakama said. “What’s next for you?”

Krahka looked off into the horizon, as the first rays of the morning sun began to light up the world. “Makuta is gone, yes. But the traces of his work remain. There are other Rahi, like me, who need a home. Many of them are going to be mistreated, or abused, or stolen.” She turned back to Vakama. “That’s what is next for me. I’m going to make this world a home for all Rahi.”

Vakama smiled warmly. “It is a noble goal, to help those who cannot help themselves. I wish you the best of luck, Toa Krahka.”

The Turaga had already walked away before she could properly react to what he said. Still taking the form of Toa Nokama, Krahka began to ponder what such a title truly meant.

✴        ✴        ✴

Hydraxon watched from afar as Onua and Pohatu finished their creation; a prison made of stone to hold the Shadowed One and Sentrakh until they were able to return them to the camp in Bara Magna.

Not ideal, Hydraxon thought to himself.

No, but it’ll hold, Dekar’s voice echoed in his mind. You trained them well.

The jailer chuckled. I suppose I did.

Looking off to the side, he spotted Lariska, watching forlornly as her former master was ushered into his cell. Quietly, he made his way over to her.

“Mind if I sit?” Hydraxon asked.

Lariska didn’t reply.

“You made a hard choice today,” he continued, taking a seat beside her. He looked down, and noticed the damage to her metallic arm.

“I can fix that,” he offered. “May I?”

She looked with curiosity at her arm, and extended it to the jailer, nodding.

As Hydraxon took her prosthetic arm into his hand, his Kanohi Kiril began to glow. Slowly, the damaged metal began to reform into its original shape, restoring the prosthetics that had been broken. At last, his mask stopped glowing, and the damage was healed.

She steadily brought her arm back up, and admired it. The arm looked just the same as it did when she was first fitted with it. It was hard to believe it had been damaged in the first place. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “I know that we’ve had our differences, but we fought well together. I’d be willing to… overlook certain offenses, thanks to your aid in capturing the Shadowed One.”

Lariska scoffed. “The Order’s not much for second chances.”

“Neither am I, normally,” Hydraxon chuckled quietly. “It was Dekar’s idea.”

You liar, Dekar snorted within his mind.

Lariska turned her head. “What happened between you and Shadow Stealer, anyway?”

Hydraxon let out a long sigh. “He and I used to be members of an ancient order known as the Hand of Artakha, the precursor to the Order of Mata Nui. We fought to protect the Matoran while our universe was still being constructed. But over time, he began to feel as though he lacked purpose, and he abandoned our order.”

She nodded slowly. “So when he found out about what you had been doing in the Order, he was upset that he hadn’t been a part of it?”

“That’s what I believe, yes,” Hydraxon said. “Until today, I never did understand him. But now, after what I’ve learned from Dekar… He and I were in similar places, both stuck in the same position we had taken on for centuries. But we were both thrust into something unfamiliar… and given the chance to be more than what we were.”

“Do you think Shadow Stealer will join you?”

He paused for a moment. “I hope so. He is a fine warrior. Like you, his talents were wasted working for the Shadowed One.”

At the mention of his name, Lariska went quiet immediately, looking back down at the ground.

“He needed to pay,” she said at last. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Dark Hunter. I’ve killed, cheated, and stolen, all according to what he wanted.” Her body shook as she clutched her newly repaired metallic arm. “He taunted me with power, with the dream that one day, I’d inherit it. So I was always looking out for an opportunity to strike, to finally take what was mine.” Her gaze turned to her former master, locked inside his stone cage. “He wanted to mold me to be just like him. And now, he’s here. In prison, sure, but this is no penance for what he’s done.”

The jailer nodded. “If you killed him then, that wouldn’t have ended anything. The dead… they have a way of haunting you.”

Lariska exhaled sharply. “Knowing he’s alive… I feel like that’s going to haunt me.”

“In that case, I might have something for you. Something that can fill that hole.”

She looked up at him.

“He’s trapped here, but his hunters are still out there,” Hydraxon continued. “Scattered and disorganized, but they’re out there. If we don’t move fast, they’ll be quick to recover power. We could use some help to track them down.” He extended a hand to her. “Destroy what he’s created. Help us rebuild.”

“I left you for dead,” Lariska snickered. “Now, you want to recruit me?”

“You’ve fought alongside me, both before and after that… incident.” Hydraxon explained, “I’m sure Axonn and Brutaka have much worse stories.”

Lariska noticed a rare expression underneath his mask. Not a proud smile, not a sarcastic one. Was he… making a joke?

“These past few days, I've been stripped of all my resources, left with nothing but allies to rely on. I've seen how valuable a loyal companion can be, and how dangerous a traitor can be. So if I had to choose… I'd much rather have you fight beside me than against me.

“I’ll need to speak with Helryx, but… I think this is where I belong, hunting down criminals,” he continued. “I don’t know for sure, but I get the feeling it’s where you belong, too.”

Lariska was stunned. Her eyes widened, then slowly closed as she chuckled to herself. Then, her expression dropped, and she cursed under her breath.

“How’s the pay?” she asked.

Hydraxon smirked. “We’ll work something out.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Ahkmou stood on the outskirts of the encampment, now bathed in the amber hues of twilight. Turaga Vakama had spoken of having a celebration to honor the capture of the Shadowed One, as well as issuing a pardon for him, Gavla, and Metus. Understandably, there was much focus on the three traitors turned heroes, something Ahkmou was eager to get away from.

Beside him, Gavla stepped closer, keeping her movements as inconspicuous as possible. “Hey,” she whispered, “I’m ready to go, whenever you are.”

“You’ve got us covered?” he asked.

“For all they know, we’ve been taken back to the camp,” she assured him. “By the time they realize we’re not there, we’ll be long gone.”

Ahkmou nodded, and turned his attention back to the crowd. Metus was the center of attention, enjoying the praises of Toa and Agori alike. The Agori of Bara Magna were undoubtedly going to be much less receptive to his redemption, but he had his foot back in society’s door.

“He got everything he wanted,” Gavla commented. “I hope he’s happy.”

“Me too,” Ahkmou replied. “That could never be us. Not after what we’ve done.”

“What we’ve done? Or what we’re about to do?”

Ahkmou sighed. He was running away again, just as he had many times before. But this time, things were different.

This time, he wouldn’t be alone.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of rustling trees behind him. Turning on a heel, the two Matoran peered into the depths of the jungle, and spotted a winged shadow fluttering violently amidst the vegetation. With only a silent nod to one another, the two quickly took off running into the wooded grove.

“Stop it!” Ahkmou cried in a hushed whisper, running up to the large, winged figure. “You’re drawing too much attention!”

“Idiot,” Gavla snarled. “Do you want the Toa Nuva on our tail?!”

The dark figure growled, ruffling her wings in frustration. “This new form is… testy,” she muttered, digging her right foot into the dirt. “But it is powerful. I doubt the Toa Nuva could stop me now.”

“I’d rather not test that theory,” Gavla muttered.

“Besides, you’re early,” Ahkmou added. “Don’t forget our deal.”

With a quiet chuckle, she rose to full height. Her massive wings, a trait she had inherited after the Energized Protodermis had washed over both her and the Kardas Dragon, slowly spread to their full span. Her claws, reminiscent of her hands as a Vortixx, scraped together in anticipation. She towered over the two Matoran, even more than before, and placed a clawed hand on Ahkmou’s shoulder.

“I would never forget,” she purred. “Despite your callous threats back in the desert, I am more than happy to help you. You only needed to ask.”

“Then let’s hurry,” Ahkmou spouted urgently. “The sooner we leave the Toa behind, the better.”

“Agreed,” Gavla murmured.

“Very well, then,” said Roodaka, with smoke billowing out of her mutated draconic maw. “Come with me, my disciples of shadow. Let us discover just what manner of darkness lurks within you both.”

✴        ✴        ✴

The Shadowed One was seated in darkness once more.

He leaned back in his throne, now a mere rock in his stone prison. The Recorder was not here to transcribe his words, nor was Sentrakh to guard him, nor Darkness to monitor his actions. Both his powers and his influence had left him, leaving him alone and weak for the first time in a very long time.

But not out of options.

The Dark Hunters would remain loyal to him, of course. They feared him too much to believe that a prison would end their contract. But even the might of their forces paled in comparison to what he had now.

Looking over to the cell across from him, he looked at Sentrakh, his ever loyal guard. The creature nodded to him, and opened his jaw. Within his mouth, there sat a single glass vial filled with green mist.

Makuta Kojol’s virus.

Grinning insidiously, the Shadowed One nodded back to his guard, who closed his jaw once more. His subterfuge had been successful, and he had hidden the virus from his captors.

At first, he had thought to attack the Toa from here, unleashing the virus right outside his cell and wreaking havoc on Bota Magna. Lariska had unknowingly set the stage for his plan perfectly.

But then, he reconsidered his options. The world as it was was a powder keg of rising powers, one that threatened to blow at any moment. Perhaps Pridak would rise to power, forming his new League. Or maybe the Skakdi would swoop in, with the aid of their new, mysterious leader. Even the whispers he had heard of a murderous Great Being roaming the surface confirmed to him what he already knew.

A war was coming to Spherus Magna. That much was inevitable. Now, all that remained was to wait out the victor, and unleash chaos in the aftermath.

And so, he remained ever patient.