Chapter Five

“Collecting,” Berix repeated carefully to the two observant Matoran before him. “I’m a collector. Which means that when I see something valuable, y’know, just lying around…”

“You steal it,” Ehrye finished.

Berix groaned. “Collect. It’s not that hard to understand. That’s why I came to Metru Nui, in hopes of adding some trinkets to my collection.”

Tehutti frowned, tossing aside another bit of scrap from the mounds of wreckage that dotted the coast. “Well, I don’t see anything you’d want in here,” he remarked. “All I’ve found is junk, so far.”

With a scoff, the Agori picked up a piece of metal, and closely examined it. “One being’s junk is another’s treasure, my friend.” He smiled, and held up the scrap to the Matoran. “See this? It may seem like junk, but this might have been a weapon, or maybe some kind of idol, or–”

“It’s a plumbing tool,” Whenua hummed with a smirk as he entered the conversation. “It was used to unclog the water flow in Ga-Metru, but it became obsolete once the fountains were remodeled after the Kanohi Dragon attacked.”

Berix looked down. “Oh. Well, it’s still kinda cool.”

Tehutti chuckled, then paused, as a glint of something resting in the rubble caught his eye. He reached down, pulling the device up by the handle. “Now this is interesting,” he muttered to himself.

“What is it?” Berix asked, leaning in to see.

Tehutti proudly presented it forward. It was a small blue device, shaped almost like a blaster. A red sphere rested within its barrel, looking as though it could fall out at any moment.

“This is a Volo Lutu Launcher,” the Onu-Matoran explained. “Back on the island, we'd use them to get stuff that was far out of reach.” He aimed the device at Berix, and pulled the trigger. In an instant, the spherical object in the barrel fired off, grabbing a hold of the plumbing tool that Berix held, and yanking it out of his hands with such force that it sent him stumbling to the ground.

“Y'know what, Tehutti, I agree with Berix,” Ehyre said sarcastically. Collecting really is a valuable profession.”

Tehutti chuckled, and playfully spun the launcher around before holstering it on his hip. The Turaga shared a small laugh with the Matoran, before turning his gaze back up to the upside down city that waited above him. While the Matoran and Berix continued digging through the rubble, Whenua let out a long, tired sigh, as he watched for any sign from the Glatorian. He was acutely aware of what dangers the city held within, and while he trusted them, he now worried that something up there had claimed them.

At times like these, he began to miss the days of being a Toa. He was more capable then, and didn't need to rely on the help of others.

But then, as he looked back to the Matoran, he reminded himself that this was where he needed to be. He was a Turaga, an elder and sage for the Matoran to look up to. Even if he wasn’t sure of himself, he needed to show them that he was.

“Hey, Turaga!” Ehrye called, grabbing his attention. “What’s this?”

Whenua turned his head, and his eyes widened in shock. Ehrye had dug through a pile of rubble, and found something out of place; a long, sickly vine, like that of a plant.

The Morbuzakh, Whenua realized with horror. Could the plant that had terrorized the city for so long still live, shrinking away in the rubble?

“Get away!” the Turaga shouted, storming over to where Ehrye had been standing. “Everybody, get back!”

Ehrye stumbled to the side as Whenua yanked the vine out of his hands. Summoning his strength, Whenua yanked the edge of the vine with such power that the earth beneath his feet trembled slightly, and the pile of rubble and scraps collapsed, spreading out across the floor.

Standing there among the discarded relics, the Turaga shook with fear. In his hands was not a tendril of the Morbuzakh, or even a vine of the Karzahni. No, it was simply a loose wire, spooling out from the remains of a broken machine before him. Although it was scattered in many pieces, he recognized the cracked Bohrok faceplate, and pieced together that this was none other than the Boxor machines that Nuparu had once made. The body of the machine was once an enemy, but now it was nothing but lifeless metal.

But the machine had taken enough life in Whenua’s mind. The memories of the Morbuzakh, the Bohrok, they were all ones that the Turaga wanted desperately to forget. But the longer he remained in the city, the more paranoid he became that they were not mere memories.

This place is a graveyard of our old universe, he had told the Glatorian. But he had spent enough time in the Archives to know that nothing in history ever stayed there for long.

“Turaga?” Ehrye asked, cautiously approaching the shaken elder. “Are you… okay?”

Whenua’s head slowly turned to the Ko-Matoran, shaking with something like fear. “When our missing friends are found, there will be no returning to this place,” he uttered. “Don’t touch anything here, don’t look at anything. Nothing good waits for us in this city. We need to bury it.”

“What?” Berix asked, incredulously. “But, there’s so much we could find!”

“Yeah,” Tehutti added. “We could fill the new Archives with–”

“It needs to be destroyed!” Whenua insisted, in a voice loud enough to send tremors through the Great Mine. He inhaled, doing his best to speak calmly. “Please, trust me. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

His hands trembling, the Turaga slowly turned away, walking along the scrapyard coast to calm his nerves.

Left behind with the two Matoran, Berix frowned. “What was that about?”

“He fought a lot of battles here,” Ehrye explained. “Him and the rest of the Toa Metru. They led us out of here, and brought us back, only for Makuta to take over. That’s got to take a toll on someone.”

Tehutti sighed. “I wondered what being an Archivist would be like, preserving all those memories. But Whenua lived through them. It’s not just some old ruins for him, this used to be his home.”

“Ours too,” Ehyre agreed. “Maybe it’s for the best that we don’t have our memories of the city.”

Berix slowly turned away, disgruntled. While he could understand that he was far out of his depth in this situation, he was still a bit disappointed at the prospect of walking away from the city empty handed. Surely there was still something of use lying within?

As the pair of Matoran moved to follow the Turaga, Berix stayed by the rubble Whenua had encountered, examining it closely. He could make out a cracked windshield, some mechanical arms, and something that resembled a chassis sticking out of the junk and dirt. He may not have known much about this world, but he knew a machine when he saw one.

Cautiously, he looked over his left shoulder, then his right. The Matoran and Turaga were further down the coast now, passing by the wreckage of an old warship sitting on the waters. They were too far away to pay Berix any attention.

Moving quickly, the Agori bent over, gathering up as many pieces of the old machine as he could. Maybe Whenua didn’t think there was anything of value here, but one person’s junk usually turned out to be another person’s treasure.

✴        ✴        ✴

The fountains of Ga-Metru had run dry ever since the fall. Its pools of liquid protodermis had emptied out, depositing into the ocean that now filled the domed sky. Despite the reversed gravity, the pool had remained on the dome, leaving the city itself dried up.

Because of this, after spending nearly a full day in Metru Nui, Kiina was parched. Even her trident, as in tune as it was with the element of water, could only summon droplets. A dry wind blew past, and Kiina had an uncomfortably familiar taste on her tongue.

“Sand,” she spat. “Coarse, rough, irritating… Like we didn’t have enough of it back home.” Atop her shoulder, Click chirped grumpily.

Vhisola chuckled, patting the shell of Pewku as she rode atop the crab. “Did you grow up on a beach?”

“Try a desert,” the Glatorian sighed. “I was still young when my home was torn away from me. Most of my life was spent on Bara Magna.” With her next step, she felt a crunch underneath her foot, as sand particles blew across the metal floor. “What’s with the weather, anyway?”

“We’re nearly out of the safe zone,” Vhisola explained. “While the Coliseum itself isn’t very stable, there’s a sweet spot nearby that’s sturdier. The Tower of Toa falls right in the middle of that safe zone, but the further out you go, the worse the weather gets.”

Kiina nodded slowly. “Why?”

“Well, I imagine the climate controls–”

“No, no, I mean, why do you still want to stay here?” Kiina balked. “Most of this place is near inhospitable.”

“It’s home,” Vhisola growled. “The city wasn’t in great condition when we found it, either.” With a sigh, she pulled back on Pewku’s shell. “Come on. We’re almost to the Great Temple.”

With a cautious nod, Kiina prepared to continue onward. But as she took her first step, she stopped, noticing that Pewku hadn’t moved. The Ussal crab cowered, lowering to the ground. Vhisola tried to comfort her Rahi companion, but to no avail. Glancing up to the sky, her jaw dropped as the sight that had scared Pewku came into view.

Sailing in the space between the city’s skyscrapers and the sea of protodermis below, two Rahkshi flew towards the group, one armored in blue, and the other in bronze. Diving through the air at astonishing speed, they pointed forward the twin ends of their staffs, and a glowing beam pulse of energy began to swirl at the tips.

“Guurahk, Panrahk,” Vhisola stammered, frozen in fear. “Run!”

Pewku scuttled across the ground, running as fast as her six legs could carry herself and Vhisola back in the direction of the Coliseum. Thinking fast, Kiina dragged her trident across the ground and flung a cloud of sand towards Vhisola, obscuring her from the two Rahkshi. Allowing her to carry on, she turned her gaze to the approaching enemies, and snarled. “It’s me you want,” she whispered.

Guurahk was quick to oblige, as two blasts of energy rocketed forward from its staff. Kiina flung her body to the side, just in time as the attack collided with the ground. She sighed in relief, but only for a brief second, as the ground quickly began crumbling. Metal quickly turned to dust, and the decay was spreading towards her. Grabbing her trident, Kiina clambered to her feet and took off running, even as the city street behind her turned to ashes.

Panrahk, meanwhile, shot off a blast of fragmentation energy at a nearby building. On impact, it burst into pieces, rubble collapsing and falling into the pit created by the other Rahkshi’s destruction.

Vhisola turned back, only to find that Kiina was no longer beside her. She nudged Pewku to stop, and looked around, only to see Kiina running for her life as the ground collapsed.

“Pewku, come on!” she cried, urging the crab to turn around, “We can’t just leave–”

She stopped, as she noticed something quite odd. The sand kicked up by Kiina was still swirling around, as if being strewn about by a tornado. But strangely, the wind had completely died down, meaning that somehow, the sand was moving on its own.

Or, Vhisola realized, it’s not sand.

There was no time to speculate further, as the Guurahk was racing towards her, firing off another blast of disintegration energy. She spurred Pewku on, but it seemed that the Ussal was unable to outrun the oncoming attack.

But, as it turned out, she would not need to. Out of thin air, a metal staff suddenly formed, and batted away the blast. Immediately afterwards, a mechanical arm formed as well, as the sand particles drifting through the air slowly formed into a body. Little by little, grain by grain, a powerful robotic drone took shape, short in stature but strong in power.

“Kranua,” Vhisola realized aloud, only for her and Pewku to be suddenly grabbed out of the way of the battle by Kiina.

“What is that thing?” the Glatorian asked, doing her best to escort the Matoran and Ussal out of the way. “Another Vahki?!”

The Kranua stood at full height, unlimbering its twin staffs. Slowing down to land, the Guurahk hissed viciously at it, forming its own weapon into a staff once more. Though neither side had the capacity to speak, the conflict between them was clearly communicated; this was the Kranua’s territory, and the Rahkshi could not stay.

Racing down to the Guurahk’s aid, Panrahk prepared to strike at the Kranua, only for the elite Vahki to block the strike with its other staff. It held off both of its attackers with ease, before pushing each of them back. With a low mechanical growl, it scraped its staffs together, preparing to counterattack.

“They’re a special type of Vahki,” Vhisola explained, as she clung tightly to Pewku’s shell. “And by the looks of it, this one’s picking a fight with the Rahkshi.”

Kiina smiled as she flung the Matoran and Ussal crab out of the way of the collapsing floor. “Let’s not interrupt it, then.” Looking down, she noticed that the effect of the disintegration had stopped, leaving the group just on the edge of the gaping hole in the street. “We need somewhere safe. What about the Coliseum?”

“No! It’s way too unstable,” Vhisola protested. Looking off to the side, she spotted a manhole cover in one of the few pieces of intact road. “Through there, we should be able to get into the tunnel system. That can take us straight to the Great Temple.”

Few more words were exchanged between the two as they raced for the tunnels, leaving the battle behind. The Guurahk noticed their departure, and began to race after them, only for a blast of energy from the Kranua to send it crashing to the ground.

As it rose up, it cast a look over its shoulder, and glared daggers at the machine. Not much could distract a Rahkshi from its goal, but this drone had dared to challenge its power, and that could not stand.

With a vicious hiss, the Rahkshi fired off a blast of disintegration energy at the Kranua. It struck hard, causing the machine to dissipate into hundreds of tiny particles, only to instantaneously reform from the sand. A blast of fragmentation energy from the Panrahk shot forward, only for the Kranua to dissolve and reform around it, sending it crashing into the street. Undeterred, it marched forward, intent on its goal. This Rahkshi had invaded its city, and that could not stand.

Before long, a battle between two unstoppable Rahkshi and one immovable Vahki had commenced.

✴        ✴        ✴

“Rahkshi hunting,” Ackar began. “Let’s start with what we know.”

Nuhrii nodded, walking beside him. “Rahkshi are vulnerable to light powers, something none of us have, unfortunately. If you can remove their Kraata, you can defeat them easily.”

Ackar shook his head. “That’s good, but I don’t just want to know their weaknesses. If you want to defeat an enemy, you need to know their fighting style. How they move, how they react, how they think.”

“Rahkshi don’t think,” retorted Nuhrii with a frown. “They’re mindless servants of the Makuta.”

“Makuta is dead, isn’t he?” Ackar flashed a half smile. “You’d be wise not to underestimate your enemy. If it can fight, it can think.” As he continued walking, he felt a chill traveling down his spine. He turned to Nuhrii, and noticed that he could see his breath with each exhale.

“It’s cold,” the Matoran remarked. “We’re entering Ta-Metru.”

Ackar turned back, and took in the sight of the city that lay before him. This area was different from that surrounding the Coliseum, in that there were more buildings left standing. The catch being, most of them were entirely frozen over, covered in a layer of solid ice. Far above, conveyor belts carrying now empty metal buckets remained stiff in place, dotting the skyline with lines of metal. A harsh wind blew through the abandoned city, sending a chill down Ackar’s spine.

“Should we turn back?” he asked. “You said that the Tower of Toa was the only safe zone.”

Nuhrii clenched his fists. “No. If the Rahkshi are there, we need to stop them. Nothing can stand in our way.”

Ackar shot him a cautious glance. “We’ll be best off if we can get the jump on it, catching it off guard. So keep your eyes peeled.”

The two made their way across the icy ground, taking their first steps into the dilapidated Ta-Metru. Each step they took was forced to be cautious, as they had little traction on the ice. For his part, Ackar did his best to provide warmth, holding his fire sword out in front of him and willing heat to exude from the glowing blade.

With a shiver, Ackar stomped onward, forcing his eyes to stay open as he marched against the harsh winds. He glanced to his left, ensuring that Nuhrii was still by his side, and he just barely spotted the Matoran amidst the swirling snow. He was nearly blind as he marched into the eye of the storm, but he could make out the shadow of a towering building in the distance.

“That’s the Great Furnace!” Nuhrii shouted over the winds. “If we can make it there, we can take shelter!”

Ackar grunted, leading the way with his sword. The glowing blade lit the way through the dense fall of snow, although it still provided no warmth. Nuhrii glanced up as the two walked past, and took note of the metal container hanging above them, swaying uneasily in the wind. When Ta-Metru still had life, such containers would be used to transport molten protodermis into the Great Furnace, where Matoran crafters worked tirelessly at making masks. Now, the wells had dried up, and a bitter cold had overtaken the once warm and lively city. It served as yet another reminder of what had been lost.

A whistling wind rang through the air, and it quickly became one of the only things the pair could hear. Nuhrii turned around for a moment, squinting as he stared into the blistering white. Amidst the snowstorm, he spotted a speck of green, slowly growing bigger.

He stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t the wind that was whistling.

“Get down!” Nuhrii cried, throwing himself to the ground. Ackar ducked low alongside him, just in time to avoid the Rahkshi sailing just over their heads.

“Lehrak,” the Ta-Matoran cursed, standing back up. Turning around, he saw the Rahkshi of Poison land a short distance away, rising up to its feet and drawing its staff.

Ackar rose up on one knee, grunting as he got back on his feet. He drew his sword one more, the blade glowing orange amidst the snowstorm.

For Nuhrii, a flurry of memories seemed to flood back unwittingly. It hadn’t been that long ago that the Rahkshi had attacked his home of Ta-Koro, letting the village sink into the lava and depriving the residents of a home. It had been a green armored Lehrak that had led the attack, poisoning Toa Tahu and destroying the city. Nuhrii had done his best to evacuate his people, just barely surviving the attack. Now, he stood by Ackar, confronted by yet another Lerahk, here to destroy his new home and kill anyone that stood in its way. It should have stricken him with fear.

And yet, when the Matoran looked inward, he found himself filled only with rage. His fists clenched tightly as he stared down the Rahkshi before him, a second seeming to last an eternity. He could hear Ackar whispering words of warning to him, but he paid them no heed. This monster threatened to destroy his home. He would allow it to live no longer.

“Nuhrii, run,” Ackar said in a gravelly tone.

But Nuhrii simply shook his head, gripping a Kanoka disk in his hand. Without a second thought, he took off into a sprint, chasing down the monster with the ferocity of a killer. As he drew near to the Lehrak, he flung the disk through the air. He was done running.

But the Rahkshi was prepared, striking the disk back and dissipating it into energy. As Nuhrii slid close to the Lehrak, it prepared to strike back, only for a blast of fire to overwhelm it from the side.

Nuhrii gasped, quickly catching his breath as the orange glow of the blast washed over him. He prepared to retreat away from the Rahkshi, but Ackar yanked him away before he could.

“You went in without a plan,” chided Ackar, pulling Nuhrii to the side. “That’s a fast way to-”

“Stop lecturing me!”

The Rahkshi had recovered quickly, lunging through the air and sweeping over the pair. Ackar ducked down, doing his best to grab Nuhrii out of the way. Spinning around, the Glatorian brought his sword around to clash with the handle of the Lerahk’s staff. They clashed three more times in rapid succession, before the Lerahk flipped back away from Ackar.

Changing strategies, the Glatorian shot off another blast of flame from the tip of his sword, sending it flying towards the Rahkshi. But the Lerahk dodged out of the way just in time, sending the fireball to disappear into the snowstorm.

“Watch it!” Nuhrii called out, yanking back on Ackar’s sword. “You’re going to miss it!”

Ackar pulled his sword back with a grunt, taking some effort to pry it from Nuhrii’s hands. Swinging it back over in the Rahkshi’s direction, he inadvertently fired off another wave of flames, striking the Lerahk with a scorching slice.

Looking at its own singed armor, the Lerahk hissed at Ackar, before halting in its tracks. A moment later, a loud, booming sound exploded, slowly shaking the very floor they stood upon. Ackar held up his sword, preparing for the worst, but even the Rahkshi seemed concerned as to what happened, and had stopped attacking.

“What did you do?!” Nuhrii demanded, marching up to Ackar.

“I was fighting off the Rahkshi!” Ackar protested. “What else was I supposed to do?”

The Rahkshi looked off into the distance, and observed an orange glow, slowly getting brighter and brighter. The tremors beneath its feet quickly moved it to act, rocketing away before Ackar could attack again.

If Nuhrii was bothered by this interaction, he didn’t show it. Instead, the Matoran was preoccupied staring at the ground below him. And as Ackar looked down, he noticed the same thing.

Cracks were growing through the icy streets, slowly spreading like spiderwebs all around. Ackar did his best to step out of the way of the fractures, only to discover that there was nowhere to run. He was caught in the centrifuge of a crumbling city.

At last, the white clouds that had coated the city cleared out of the way, as a pillar of flame and lava erupted from the Great Furnace, spewing out onto the city below. Magma began flowing down, unearthing the city from its frosty tomb as it consumed everything in its path.

Nuhrii looked up to Ackar at last, the two standing not far from the active volcano that just erupted in the district’s center. As he watched the Glatorian helplessly stand before a rain of fire and magma, he had no words to convey his rage.

His supposed ‘hero’ had failed his home yet again.