Ignition Comics
2006 - Ignition Comic 1: If a Universe Ends
Adapted by Michael Larson. Edited by Jeff Douglas.
Dalu’s lungs burned. Her legs felt like stone weights that would come loose beneath her at any moment. With as long strides as her diminished Matoran body was capable, she raced diminished body across the landscape of Voya Nui. Rain pelted her like hailstones, and lightning slashed down across the sky.
Dalu’s heart sank as she realized she was approaching a rock cliff. So exhausted was she that she found herself doubting she could make it to the top. But she had no choice.
After all, running wasn’t natural for Dalu. She was a fighter. It went against her nature to flee, much less to leave her friends behind. But she knew this was the only choice she and the others had.
With a painful grunt and agony stabbing through her, she pulled herself atop the cliff and exulted.
Then she wished she hadn’t.
“Well, well, well,” Hakann sneered, seizing her arm and lifting her into the air. Behind him, Zaktan scowled, partially for having to align with the red Piraka again to track her down, but more for having lost her in the first place.
“Don’t run, little Matoran,” Hakann cooed. “We Piraka might get the idea you don’t like us.”
He brought her close to his face.
“And you wouldn’t want us to think that, now, would you?”
✴ ✴ ✴
Hakann carried the helpless Dalu through the halls of the Piraka fortress, following Zaktan into the main chamber.
“Try not to let her escape this time,” Zaktan hissed over his shoulder. “We haven’t come this far just to be stopped by pathetic, ignorant villagers!”
Zaktan looked forward again, evidently satisfied by the finality of his statement.
Hakann stopped for a moment. Then he started forward.
“As I recall,” he said to Zaktan’s back, “I didn’t let her escape… you did. You were so busy proclaiming victory over those foolish ‘heroes’ who tried to stop us that you never saw her slip away. You really should be more observant. Leaders live much longer that way, or so they say.”
Zaktan spun, unleashing his laser vision and throwing Hakann into the wall, causing him to drop Dalu.
“And you, Hakann…” Zaktan replied, advancing on the fallen Piraka, “should keep your gaping jaws shut!”
Hakann reeled and groped the floor. “You know,” he spat. “I was going to be patient and wait for Avak or one of the others to finish you off. But now…”
He shot a glare at his opponent, accompanied by heat vision. “As a wise being once said, if you want someone melted into slag, you have to do it yourself.”
Zaktan’s drifted apart, letting the shot pass through harmlessly. “A pity your looks cannot kill. If only your aim was as sharp as your wit, you might survive this day.”
He fired a Zamor sphere. “You need a lesson in obedience.”
Hakann couldn’t disperse his body, but he was agile. He dove to the side, rolling and coming up ready again. “When you find someone able to give it, let me know,” he countered, unleashing a frying mental blast. “Now let’s see you handle something you can’t dodge, Zaktan!”
Zaktan screamed as Hakann’s mental blast stabbed into his brain, sending him reeling. The pain was agonizing, and with so much of his mind spread across his disparate Protodites, his entire form disintegrated as the willpower behind it ebbed.
But eventually Zaktan realized the pain could get no worse, and he found strength in that thought. With all the strength at his disposal, he slowly pushed himself up to where he could see a low ceiling over Hakann and fired his laser vision at it.
Hakann’s first instinct against the falling rubble was to turn his current attack at it, instead. Too late, he realized that a mental blast is of little use against a giant slab of rock. It landed with a loud but punctuated thud.
“Ah, the sweet sound of an enemy crushed,” Zaktan gloated, stalking over. He stomped his clawed foot on the ground, looking around at the new pile of rock. “But you’re not dead, are you, Hakann? No, I certainly hope not. For if I am going to find the treasure of Voya Nui, I still have need of you.”
Zaktan turned to the crystal vat of green substance in the chamber, which filled the Zamor spheres, and added, “We still have need of you.”
The green Piraka stepped closer to it.
“The Kanohi Mask of Life—the most powerful mask in existence—is nearby…” he muttered, as if to the vat itself. “The enslaved Matoran and the other Piraka are hunting for the mask even now, never dreaming of its true potential. The power of life… and so, the power of death as well… all in one Kanohi. And so close to being in my grasp!”
So focused was he on the looming emerald shape that he failed to notice Dalu slipping out of the shadows and darting to the nearest door. At her back resounded Zaktan’s hysterical laughter.
“The Mask of Life must be found!”
✴ ✴ ✴
“Why?”
Thok rolled his eyes. Reidak had been ranting and raving for what felt like hours now, and until now the white-armored Piraka had been dignifying this by half-hearted, monosyllabic responses.
He wondered if not saying anything would indicate his disinterest, and he decided to remain quiet.
“Why?” Reidak repeated.
Thok said nothing. The black-armored Piraka eyed him and hushed for a moment. Thok smiled, satisfied.
But then Reidak just kept talking.
“We had a pretty good life before, Thok… artifacts to steal, Toa to snap in two. What’s so important about this mask that we have to come here?”
Thok sighed loudly. “I know it makes your head hurt, but try thinking, Reidak,” he snapped. “Legend says the Mask of Life was forged by the Great Beings, and given to the Great Spirit Mata Nui for safekeeping. It was hidden here, somewhere beneath the volcano, safe from thieves, would be conquerors, and spirits of destruction.” He hesitating, before adding thoughtfully, “But not from Piraka.”
Reidak kept walking, nearing the cliff edge of the peak they were on. “Well, I’m sick of this place! I need somebody to break in half, and—” Reidak felt an impact against his back. The black Piraka waved his arms in an effort to catch hold of something.
“Hey! Thok!” he shouted, reaching for assistance. But his companion looked on.
Helplessly, Reidak toppled over the edge, bellowing all the way, “Thoooooook!”
A large crash resounded as Reidak smashed a small crater into the ground. Then, nothing.
Up above, Thok’s head popped out over the cliff’s rim. He blinked as he surveyed the damage.
He sat up. Although he had meant to push Reidak, he hadn’t quite expected him to actually fall over. “Oh, my…” he murmured. He looked over the edge again. “Don’t worry, Reidak. I will go find help!”
With that, Thok turned away from the cliff and giddily started back inland. “Let’s see, vast treasure divided by five instead of six equals…” he calculated. Math was never his strong suit, but for this he could suffice.
“…equals… No, that’s not right. I’ll have to get rid of some more Piraka. Then it will divide—”
A distant rumble interrupted his thoughts. It was hard to tell if it came from the land’s volcano, the sky’s stormy blanket, or the sea’s waves.
“Another tremor?” Thok commented to himself, spreading his feet to steady himself. He spared a look over to the Matoran slaves. “Hmmm, it knocked one of our Matoran workers into the volcano mouth,” he observed. “Shame. Now the rest will have to work harder.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
A blast of power struck Thok directly in the back, buckling him over with a yell of pain. He collapsed, his chest armor roughly sliding along the rocks on the ground. Angrily, he pushed himself over with one arm to see his attacker, a very angry Reidak, buzzsaw spinning.
“That was a long fall down the mountain,” Reidak said, stalking low over to the fallen Thok. “Long climb back up, too. It’s an experience you shouldn’t miss.”
Reidak grabbed Thok by the throat and hoisted the gurgling Piraka into the air. “Now how about I throw you over a cliff, Thok, and see how many times you bounce? Won’t that be fun?”
✴ ✴ ✴
“So it’s a deal?” Avak asked. “When we find the Mask of Life, Vezok, you and I steal it and strand the others here.”
Vezok seemed to consider this before shaking his head. “I already have a deal with Reidak. But maybe we’ll let you swim home, if you keep your mouth shut.”
Avak turned to face him. “You won’t have a home once I—”
Vezok’s eyes widened. “Hey!” he shouted. Avak barely ducked in time as he sent his impact vision through the forest trees. The twin beams traveled between branches and leaves until it finally hit a trunk and blew apart the distant tree.
“What did you do that for?” Avak snapped.
“I thought I saw someone in the trees.”
Avak was about to give a harsh retort when something cracked behind him. He gasped as a thick tree began tilting toward them. “Look out!” he shouted, throwing himself clear as the tree fell to earth where he had just been standing.
As Vezok recovered his wits, Avak scrambled to his feet. “This didn’t fall naturally. It was cut clean through, with one stroke.”
Vezok hunched lower and bared his teeth. “Then we have company.”
The two stood almost back-to-back. Scanning in all directions for other threats made the most sense, though not at the cost of letting nearby Piraka out of sight. As they circled and watched, Avak called out again, “There! Headed right for us!”
Vezok turned in time to see two incoming tree trunks, each about eight feet long, with their tips whittled down to lethal spikes. He snarled as he readied his own harpoon weapon. “So what?” he asked, firing a barrage of water harpoons. His own attack met the oncoming missiles, shattering one to splinters and altering the course of another, where it landed in the ground spike-first with a loud thud.
“I saw him—northwest, beyond the trees,” Avak said. “He’s big.”
Vezok shouldered past Avak. “So am I. Let’s go.”
✴ ✴ ✴
“You said he was here!” Vezok bellowed.
“He was. He is,” Avak growled, looking around. “I feel it.”
“You’re going to feel something else if you don’t find him quick,” Vezok muttered, searching the area. The forest had given way to a lifeless stretch of land at the base of a mountain. The dirt ground wasn’t very expansive, but as Vezok looked closer, he spied a small, nondescript cave entrance hidden among the slopes.
“Hm. Maybe in here?” Vezok wondered, climbing in and up the hidden tunnel.
Avak crawled in after the blue Piraka. The pair soon found themselves in a cavern that was so large Avak thought it must have taken up the entirety of the inside of the mountain. Their sloped path from the tunnel widened into a platform with edges that dropped off to a lower level. On the lower level, scores of vertical tablets stood, carved upward out of the floor itself. Nearby, there were a few handheld tablets lying around as well. The chamber’s only illumination came from some sparse lightstones embedded in the wall.
“Well what’s this junk?” Vezok scowled.
Avak crouched to read some of the tablets. “Records—the entire history of Voya Nui, its people, its culture. The Matoran must have hidden them here to keep them safe.”
“Safe…” Vezok repeated, distantly.
His eyes starting to glow. He chuckled.
“Heh heh.”
“Some of these carvings,” Avak said, scanning the records. “They describe the old Turaga, Jovan. Wasn’t he the one who used the Mask of Life?”
“Ha ha ha…”
“I—wha—” Avak looked up, and his eyes widened. “Vezok, no!”
Impact vision lanced out of Vezok’s eyes, pounding the records to rubble and smashing everything within sight. Avak dropped his tablet and scrambled for cover. The hysterical blue Piraka continued long after the last tablet was destroyed, pounding even the fragments of stone into pieces.
“Safe!” Vezok roared. “What a laugh!”
Avak, cuffed his shoulder. “Well, there went any clues to the Mask of Life in here… you Rahkshi-brained, pile of—!”
His insult was cut off by another explosion, this time emanating from the entrance.
Avak raced over. Vezok came over as well, smiling and eager to destroy something else.
“Cave in!” Avak reported, readying his jackhammer tool. “Cute. Are they really stupid enough to think that will hold us for long?”
✴ ✴ ✴
“Of course it won’t hold them,” Balta said. “You have to know that.”
“It doesn’t need to,” Axonn answered. “It just needs to slow them down. Annoy them.”
The Ta-Matoran slumped in dejection. With the Toa Nuva missing and Garan still imprisoned, any chance of victory appeared to be dwindling. While Kazi, Velika, and Piruk were making preparations to rescue Garan, he had slipped away in search of the only hope he had left. Yet after what he had just witnessed, he felt more hopeless than ever.
“I felt the tremor in the ground.” he muttered. “Vezok must have destroyed all the tablets. Our history is… gone.”
Axonn rested his axe on the stone. “There is more to be made, Balta. Today is tomorrow’s history.”
Balta shook his head. “If we don’t stop the Piraka, we’ll all be history. And what can we throw against them? Six Matoran, and you… that’s all that’s between them and control of this island.”
“This island? Foolish Matoran, is that what you think this is about? Remember your legends…”
As Axonn spoke, his words brought back distant memories for the Ta-Matoran—memories he had not seen as long as he could remember. Vaguely, they penetrated the fog of his past, like half-remembered dreams. He could see villagers, running near lakes surrounded by greenery.
“In the Time Before Time, Matoran like yourself lived free and happy lives under the watchful eye of the Great Spirit, Mata Nui.” Axonn said. “It was Mata Nui who made the sun shine, the wind blow, the rivers run… Mata Nui who was our protector, your world, your universe. But Mata Nui was betrayed… cast into a deep sleep by his enemy… and darkness fell over all.”
“I’ve heard… rumors… of such a thing,” Balta answered, still unsure what to believe. “But when Mata Nui awakens, all will be right again, won’t it?”
The warrior charged his weapon with energy, flowing right from his hands into its shaft and edges.
“Not ‘when’ he wakes up, Balta… ‘if.’”
He fired a beam from the tip of the tool into nearby stone. “Mata Nui has slept for more than a thousand years.”
Axonn cancelled the beam, revealing an image carved into the stone—a rounded Kanohi Mask, possessing a vent over the forehead and three slashes on each cheek.
“His symbol, the Kanohi Hau, has stood for hope for all Matoran. But I tell you now, Balta, if the Piraka are not stopped… if they find the Mask of Life they seek…” The warrior cleaved his axe through the carving, destroying it.
“Mata Nui shall die… and our universe will end.”
✴ ✴ ✴
The cave entrance exploded, raining dirt and debris everywhere. Vezok stalked out angrily, followed closely by Avak.
“They’re gone,” Vezok snarled. “Fled like terrified Burnak.”
“Of course they fled, you dolt,” snapped Avak. “What did you expect them to…”
His voice drifted off, and he seemed to be listening to something.
“Do you hear them?” asked Vezok.
“No,” came the reply. “I hear Thok’s shouts and Reidak’s guffaws. Perhaps they have found something?”
“Those jokers couldn’t find the broad side of a Tahtorak if it sat on them. Meet up them if you want,” Vezok said, starting off. “But you and I both know that Matoran caused that cave-in. It’s time I pay our captured buggers a visit.”