Chapter Eight

A whirlwind of air shot through the Metru Nui tunnels, sending Gresh and Orkahm flying forward. They scrambled forward, escaping into the labyrinth that lay ahead of them. The Glatorian’s attempt at directing his aimless flight was only mildly successful, and it had allowed him to catch up to Orkahm.

At last, Gresh felt himself seemingly getting heavier, before he and Orkahm dropped unceremoniously to the floor. The effect of zero gravity had worn off, letting them at last take a rest on the cold tunnel floor.

The two spent a moment in silence, resting for the first time in several hours. Gresh found himself surprised. He had fought Rahkshi before, during the battle for Bara Magna, but while they were greater in numbers, they seemed weaker than the Rahkshi he fought now, as though Makuta’s mass production of them diminished their quality. They were still worthy opponents, no doubt, but the Turahk was simply on another level of combat, and the Barahk displayed a level of power Gresh hadn’t seen before.

That, and he had never heard a Rahkshi speak.

At last, he rose to his feet, and moved to check in with his Matoran companion. “Come on,” he said, extending a hand for Orkahm to take. “We’re not beaten yet.”

Orkahm grabbed his hand, and pulled himself upwards. “I clear-know that. Ever-ready for action.”

“Good. Brace yourself, we need to keep moving.”

Orkahm stopped. “What do you mean? We could’ve been Rahkshi-bones, but we’re not. It spared us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Gresh sighed. “I’ve seen this before. Vorox have the same technique. He’s playing with his food. Getting us tired before he pounces.”

“So, what? We just happy-play along until he snatch-catches us?”

“No.” Gresh paused for a moment, looking around the tunnels with steely focus. “We stay on our guard, and when the Rahkshi comes back, we get ready to fight again.”

Orkahm nodded, holding up his now trusty bag of thornax fruit. He moved to continue through the tunnel, but stopped in his tracks, as a strange rumbling sound echoed through the walls. It almost sounded like the waterfalls of Naho Bay, but it lacked their tranquil comfort. No, this sound carried with it the fury of Ta-Koro’s lava.

He looked up to Gresh, who simply shrugged in confusion. Looking back, he watched as something suddenly emerged from the darkness, racing forward at blistering speeds. He jumped back on instinct, before realizing that what he saw was an Ussal crab, carrying its riders towards the pair.

“...Pewku?” He wondered aloud.

Indeed, Pewku was scuttling along, running as fast as her legs could carry her group as she scurried all along the tunnel walls. Atop her shell, Kiina and Vhisola clung tightly, both intently watching the opposite direction.

“Kiina?” Gresh called, racing to catch up with the crab. “What’s going on–”

“Get back!” Kiina shouted, grabbing her fellow Glatorian by the shoulder and turning him around. “Head the other way!”

Gresh looked back over his shoulder, and quickly saw what Kiina was warning him of. Crashing through the tunnels, a wave of silvery liquid cascaded forward, filling the space rapidly. He watched it for only half a second, before grabbing Orkahm and taking off running.

“What is that?!” Gresh cried, dragging his Matoran companion behind him by the arm.

“It’s bad news!” Vhisola called back, slowly rising to her feet atop Pewku’s saddle. Staring down the oncoming flood, she raised up her disk launcher, and slowly aimed it forward. She fired off a freeze kanoka, and watched as it struck the oncoming wave of silver waters.

With a brief flash of blue light, the waters froze solid, blocking off the tunnel ahead of them in a thick wall of ice. The way was blocked, but they were safe, for now.

Slowly exhaling, she hopped off of the crab. Kiina dropped her trident to the ground and ran up to Gresh, squeezing him in a too-tight embrace.

“What– agh– happened to you guys?” Gresh asked, struggling to breathe.

“We had a run in with a Rahkshi,” Vhisola sighed. “Once we get back to safety, we can explain more. For now, we need to stay ahead of that flood.”

Orkahm’s eyes widened. “We fought a Rahkshi too! Badbugger. Knows how to thinktalk.”

Upon hearing this, Vhisola stopped in her tracks. The Bohrok and the Energized Protodermis were already enough for her to start questioning things, but a talking Rahkshi was the bula berry on top.

“Something doesn’t want us here,” Vhisola muttered under her breath.

The other three looked over to her. Although they were silent, the same thought ran through each of their minds.

“This isn’t just random,” she continued. “Someone is using the Rahkshi, Vahki, and the others to attack us.”

Gresh furrowed his brow. “Who would be doing that?”

“I don’t know,” Vhisola replied. “But I know it’s not going to be safe here for much longer. We need to get back to the Tower.”

✴        ✴        ✴

“We need to get back to the Tower,” Vhisola’s words echoed in the Vahki Rorzakh’s speakers.

It had taken the Vahki squad quite some time to repair themselves after their encounter with the Glatorian. What’s more, the drones had to do their best to scale the walls of the metallic structure to follow the invaders, all while avoiding detection from the Matoran on the surface as they departed. But with the power of the Staffs of Presence, the Vahki had been able to continue monitoring the Matoran, and maintained their pursuit.

Now, as the six drones clung onto the side of the Coliseum’s remaining spire, they carefully watched the streets below them, anticipating any movement from Glatorian or Matoran alike. After firing a set of X-Ray Vision Kanoka upon the streets, they were able to track the group’s movement, as they made their way closer to the Tower of Toa.

Of course, they could not be permitted to make it there. Not if order was to be maintained.

✴        ✴        ✴

“Okay, on three,” Nuhrii said to Tehutti and Ehrye. “One, two–”

“Three!” The three Matoran shouted in unison, and they immediately yanked back on the metallic wire. Dangling below, the Boxor walker that Berix piloted slowly inched its way further up into the sky, nearing the field of gravity.

The Matoran and Whenua had made their way into the upside down city easily enough, following Ackar in the same method that he and his fellow Glatorian had utilized hours before. The Boxor walker, however, had proven to be a challenge to move.

“You’re doing great!” Berix called out from the cockpit of the machine, his voice echoing throughout the hollow dome of the city. “Just a couple more pulls!”

Tehutti grumbled under his breath. “Why couldn’t he be up here helping us?”

“It would lighten the load, too,” Ehrye added. “At the very least, he could lay off the thornax fruit.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

A short distance away, Whenua and Ackar were convening in private, the events of the day still weighing heavy on their minds. After so long having to find his own way to reason with Nuhrii, Ackar found it comforting to confide in the wisdom of a fellow elder.

“I do not envy your predicament, friend,” the Turaga mused. “Had I known the Matoran would have been so conflicted, I would have joined you. But, on the other hand… It may have been for the best that it was you who talked to Nuhrii.”

Ackar rubbed his head. “I wasn’t exactly planning on fighting any Matoran this morning.”

Whenua chuckled to himself. “You should speak with Onua sometime. Too often he bore the responsibility of having to fight his brother to save him.” He exhaled, as if ruminating on an unpleasant memory. “I think you are very brave for taking on that duty. You fought to show him what you believed in, and in turn, you found that you two had quite a lot in common.”

For a moment, Ackar remained silent. He was glad that he had been able to help Nuhrii, much as he had been able to help Mata Nui a few months back. But he hadn’t set out to mentor either one of them from the start. Both times, he found himself thrust into a new role unexpectedly, and had to improvise in order to successfully train his students.

Maybe that means I’m a bad teacher, he mused. Or maybe, teaching is just something you make up as you go along.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “It’s… it’s good to talk about this.”

“Of course,” Whenua smiled. “If you ever need advice… talk to Vakama, he’s better at that kind of thing. But if he’s not available, you can talk to me. I’ve seen quite a bit in my years.”

Ackar snorted. “Last I checked, I’m a couple thousand years your senior.”

“Maybe,” Whenua shot back. “But coaching a Toa? That ages you fast.”

A yelp from Berix quickly resounded through the walls of the dome, followed by a quite unpleasant sound of metal scraping against metal. Ackar and Whenua both turned their heads to see the Boxor walker skidding down the walls of the Coliseum, before at last touching down on the city street. Berix clambered out of the machine’s cockpit, clearly shaken by the experience. Nuhrii and Ehrye worked to help him out, while muttering some unheard quips that made the Agori balk.

Ackar leaned against a metal beam to rest. “It’s still a strange feeling, having someone in my care. I was… I was scared of failing again.”

Whenua cocked his head to the side. “Again?”

A low exhale escaped Ackar’s mouth, as if he were physically preparing himself for his next words. “I lost more than just friends in the war. I lost my family… I had a child.” He paused, looking over to Whenua with uncertainty. “Do Matoran… have those?”

“We do not,” Whenua said. “But I have come to understand the concept. You cared for a smaller being, much as we Turaga care for the Matoran.”

“Yes,” Ackar replied. “And in turn, she was a light in my life. My joy. I fought in the war in hopes of creating a better world for her.”

“What happened?”

Ackar shut his eyes, as though his eyelids would defend him from his memory. “I lost sight of what was important. The Element Lord’s greed… my greed… it split the world into pieces. When I came home… she was gone.”

Whenua nodded silently, and placed a hand on Ackar’s side. “I am sorry, my friend. You have lost so much, it shows your strength that you still fight.” He glanced back over to the Matoran. “Did you tell Nuhrii this?”

“No,” Ackar said, his voice almost a whisper as he tried to stifle a sob. “I never even told Kiina or Gresh. I was scared that one day, I’d forget her.” He cracked a smile, finally opening his eyes. “But that’s impossible, because I always see a bit of her in both of them. And now, I see that same bit of her in Nuhrii, too. It made me scared to lose them, to fail again.”

Taking a seat beside Ackar, Whenua smiled plainly. “I lost a friend, once. His name was Mavrah. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could’ve saved him. He should’ve seen Onu-Koro, he should’ve seen this new world we are building. It's my fault that he didn’t. But we focus on who we have with us now. Kiina and Gresh, they’re who you have now. Protect them.”

Ackar smiled faintly. “I will.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, amidst the rubble and ruins of Metru Nui. Ackar became entranced by the sight of the towering skyscrapers above him, casting a dark shadow from the little light that leaked in through the ceiling. When he and the others had first arrived in the city, its mystery seemed to have an air of wonder to them. Now, that wonder had been replaced by dread, and fear of what could be waiting for him.

But amidst that fear dwelled the trust he had in his fellow Glatorian, and that which he had built with the Matoran.

“Please, don’t tell the others about this talk,” Ackar said. “I’ll–”

“You’ll tell them when you’re ready,” Whenua finished for him. “Don’t worry, I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”

Ackar smiled gratefully. “There’s going to be a fight if we run into those Rahkshi again. Do you think they’ll be ready?”

“I think that they are quite capable,” Whenua replied. “And they will have a good teacher with them.”

“We’ll need to find the others,” Ackar said. “The surface is too dangerous, so we’ll take the tunnels. Hopefully, they’ve made their way back to the Tower by now.”

“We can enter the Coliseum,” Whenua mused. “Just beneath the floor of it is a prison. From there, we can access the wider tunnel system.”

Ackar made a noise in acknowledgement. “I’ve been told that the Coliseum itself is risky. But if it helps us find our friends, I’ll take that risk.”

“Very well then. I’ll gather the Matoran and Berix. Lead the way, Toa Ackar.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Pewku did her best to steady her stance as she circled the walls of the tunnels. Gravity had been shifting strangely as the Glatorian and Matoran ventured further, but it had little effect on her. She had always been a good climber, and after having served as a taxi crab, a cargo crab, and a delivery crab, she was more than used to carrying passengers on board. For her, this trip had been nothing too out of the ordinary, save for the few times when she had to run for her life.

Atop her saddle, Vhisola and Orkahm were facing a very unfortunate reality. They had been able to maintain safety in the tunnels so far, thanks in no small part to the Glatorian aiding them in freezing the wave of energized protodermis whenever it came rushing forward. But it seemed that, in their frantic rush through the tunnels, something bad had happened.

They had gotten lost.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Vhisola groaned, closely examining the tunnel walls around her. “We should be underneath Le-Metru by now! We’ve been going in circles for the past hour.”

Orkahm took note of the now familiar sight of the sculpted Mask of Intangibility that blocked the tunnel, and sighed. “We’re not lost, we’re lock-trapped. The ice wall must’ve blocked off our only exit-way.”

Vhisola cast an uneasy gaze over her shoulder, listening intently for any sign that the ice might have broken, that the energized protodermis might be crashing forward once again. After a moment had passed, she spoke again. “If that’s the case,” she mused to herself, “then this running is pointless.”

At this, Gresh whirled around on his feet, and knelt down beside the Matoran and Ussal crab.

“Hey, come on,” he whispered, “don’t talk like that.”

Vhisola sighed. “I’m sorry. But what can we do? Just run around in circles until we drown in energized protodermis?”

“There’s a way out,” Kiina muttered idly.

“She’s right,” Gresh followed up. “There’s a way out of this mess, we just need to find it.”

Orkahm frowned, and held up a bag of thornax fruit. “Why don’t we just strike-blast our way out?”

“Because,” Gresh said, nervously gesturing for Orkahm to set down the sack, “brute force hasn’t gotten us very far. The more and more we’ve fought the city, the more trapped we’ve become. We have a more powerful tool than any of our weapons; our minds.”

“Our minds?” Vhisola asked.

“Our minds,” Gresh repeated proudly. “A more powerful weapon than any sword, and a more powerful defense than any shield.” He smiled to himself, happy to have the opportunity to share some advice.

“There’s a way out,” Kiina said again.

“Exactly,” Gresh added. “If we all work together–”

“Hey!” Kiina said, snapping in Gresh’s direction. “Listen to me! I found a way out!”

The pair of Matoran looked up with curiosity, but saw no sign of the escape route that Kiina had spotted. Gresh opened his mouth to speak, but as he glanced downwards, he realized something.

He was standing in a ray of light.

He shot his head back up, and almost laughed in delight. Up above them, he could see the mouth of the Coliseum, opening up over the beach they had entered on. A barred grate was the only thing keeping them from escaping the tunnels.

“Upside down,” Gresh muttered under his breath. “Of course. All we’ve had to do is go down.”

“Right,” Kiina giggled. “Or, up.”

✴        ✴        ✴

As Whenua stepped through the gates of the Coliseum once more, he was hit with a strange sense of familiarity.

The first time he had seen the arena from this angle, it had been alongside his fellow Toa Metru. Despite their recent battles with the Morbuzakh and the Krahka, they were still optimistic, bright eyed as they made their way to present their achievements to Turaga Dume.

The second time he had entered from the same angle, he was a Toa Hordika, marching into the greatest battle of his career. He had seen his city fall to Makuta and his forces, watched helplessly as the Matoran were captured and detained in pods, and was subjected to the mutations of Visorak venom. It was enough to drive anyone to abandon their virtues, as he had already seen when Vakama had been seduced to evil. But despite everything, he pressed on, his duty outweighing his doubts.

Now, he entered into a much different Coliseum, accompanied by a much different group. The damage done by the Cataclysm and the Visorak invasion spoke nothing to the state of disrepair the city’s landmark was now in. Many of the hexagonal tiles that lined the floors had fallen apart, leaving a treacherous path above a deadly fall. The walls seemed to tremble as they dangled from the ceiling, threatening to give way at any moment. Up above, the remaining spires of the Coliseum pointed up at the liquid sea of protodermis that awaited on the true floor.

They were in the belly of a patchwork beast. At any moment, it seemed as though it could either consume them, or spit them out into oblivion.

“Let’s move quickly,” Whenua muttered, stifling a chill. “The prison is up ahead. Just follow my lead.”

On his lead, the group slowly made their way across the precarious pathway of tiles, being wary of each step. Despite the strange nature of the floor, it seemed to be supporting them with little struggle. Even the Boxor was able to maneuver safely, thanks in no small part to Berix’s piloting skills.

As the heavy footsteps echoed throughout the open space, a thought crossed Tehutti’s mind, and he looked over his shoulder at Berix. “Hey, how did you get so good at piloting the Boxor, anyways?” he asked. “I mean, I could get behind a normal one, but that thing would take me some getting used to.”

Sitting back in the cockpit of his machine, Berix simply shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of old machines in my scavenging days. Sure, I’m usually just collecting their parts, but the more you spend time with scraps, the more you pick up.” He grabbed onto the handlebars, and pushed the machine forward. “My skills got me a pretty sweet gig working on the Kaxium for a while. I know what the parts do, so when they’re put together, it's just natural.”

Tehutti made a noise in acknowledgement. “You’ll have to show me sometime. I had my doubts about your design, but it seems… capable.”

Berix cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Still think I’m just a thief, then? Or are you ready to admit that collecting is a serious profession?”

“Don’t push it,” Tehutti smirked.

Whenua continued leading the group across the artificial sea of protodermis, his eyes still looking up at the real sea far above him. As he took his next step, his foot at last rested on a grate, one that he remembered all too well. He looked down, and saw a prison that he had been trapped in when Makuta had taken the guise of Turaga Dume. But as he stared down, the prison was not empty, as he had been expecting. No, another pair of eyes was staring back up at him.

“Turaga!” Kiina exclaimed from down below, reaching up to touch the grate. “Perfect timing!”

Whenua smiled. “It’s good to see you. What brings you to the Coliseum?”

“Making our way to the Tower of Toa,” came Gresh’s voice from beside her. “You?”

“Same story,” said Ackar, kneeling to remove the grate. Reaching down, he grabbed Kiina’s hand and strained to lift her up, before Nuhrii and Ehrye arrived to aid him. As she at last made her way onto the Coliseum floor, she ran up to embrace Ackar, squeezing him tightly.

“Kiina–” Ackar gasped.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said quietly.

Ackar paused for a moment, silently hugging Kiina close to him. Looking up, he spotted Gresh making his way out of the prison, and noticed the scrapes and burns that spotted the young Glatorian’s armor. His mind raced with worries, as he slowly put together what his fellow Glatorian must have been through.

“Did you run into the Rahkshi?” he asked.

“We did,” Gresh replied. “And something worse.”

Atop Kiina’s shoulder, Click chirped uncertainly.

“Way worse,” Kiina added, pulling back from Ackar. “We need to get out of this city, now.”

“Well,” Nuhrii interjected, walking up to the two Matoran riding atop Pewku, “that’s one thing we can all agree on.”

Orkahm and Vhisola exchanged an uneasy look. Aside from the new mask that Nuhrii now sported, something else seemed different about him. His demeanor was calmer, less irate than it had been since the Glatorian arrived. Agreeing to leave Metru Nui, after everything he had said about making it a home, was a shock to both of them.

“Are you sure?” Vhisola asked.

“I am,” Nuhrii replied. “I wanted this place to be home. But home… It’s not in this place. It’s with you. It’s with our people. We’re the heart of Metru Nui.” He gestured behind him. “Now, come on. It’s time to go.”

As he turned back from the group, his hearing was suddenly overwhelmed by a vicious screech echoing through the air. The group’s eyes all instantly looked up, tracing the source of the noise.

Through the sky, the Rahkshi of Gravity descended, ducking and weaving through the four broken pillars that marked the top of the Coliseum. Barahk began circling the group like a bird of prey, alerting everyone to be on their guard.

“Rahkshi,” Ackar growled. “We’ve dealt with our fair share of them today.”

“So did Orkahm and I,” Gresh smirked as he drew his twin blades.

“You took down a Rahkshi?!” Nuhrii asked incredulously.

Orkahm grinned. “Blast-blew him away.”

“Kiina and I took one down too,” Vhisola added.

Kiina smirked as she drew her trident, and Click formed into her shield. “Well, it sounds like we’ve got plenty of experience, then.”

“Focus,” Ackar said.

At last, the gravity Rahkshi, Barahk, arrived on the platform, floating down with elegance and grace. Its feet touched the floor as if it were weightless, and it slowly levitated over to the group. Clasping its hands together, it began to speak through its robotic voice. “You have arrived.”

“Well, I’m glad we could accept your invitation,” Nuhrii snarked. “What do you want with us?”

“What is commanded,” Barahk continued. “Makuta has found us once more. His plan is clear.”

“I’ve got some bad news for you,” Kiina said. “Makuta’s dead. We’re inside his corpse.”

The Rahkshi hissed. “False. Makuta will mold this city into our home.”

Orkahm shivered in discomfort. The Rahkshi’s words were eerily close to Nuhrii’s.

“Let me guess,” Gresh sighed, “we’re not worthy of being a part of his rule?”

Raising his hand, Barahk fired a blast of shadow energy into the sky. At his command, six sets of hands suddenly burst through the floor. The Rahkshi horde emerged once more, breaking through the surface. Fear, Hunger, Poison, Fragmentation, Disintegration, and Anger Rahkshi were all present, their armor repaired, their wounds healed, and ready for battle.

“Metru Nui must be remade,” Barahk said, coming to the lead of the Rahkshi group. It seemed to shiver in anticipation. “It is destiny.”

Ackar gritted his teeth as he held his flame sword forward. Kiina and Gresh stood opposite each other, each with weapons drawn. Vhisola and Orkahm each hoisted up a Kanoka launcher, while Nuhrii began distributing disks to each of his friends. Tehutti and Ehrye sat atop a battle ready Pewku, while Berix pulled on the handles of his Boxor walker. Not one member of the group showed any hesitation.

Barahk wrapped its fingertips against its staff in anticipation.

It was silent for a moment, the two sides locked in a fierce standoff.

But before either side could make a move, a blast erupted between them, sending both parties flying back.

Gresh’s eyes shot up. Perched atop one of the Coliseum’s spires, six Vahki looked down upon the group, each charging up a Kanoka disk in their mandibles. One by one, the drones began dropping down to the floor, preparing for battle.

“Great,” Gresh groaned. “The more, the merrier.”