BIONICLE Mask of Destiny
Chapter 3

BIONICLE Legends: Invasion

Chapter 3

Written by Jeff Douglas

Voya Nui

As Vezon emerged at the top of the 777 stairs, he held a hand to block the light so his eyes could adjust.

“I forgot how… disgusting it is up here,” he scowled. The threatening clouds that had hung over the island like a shadow when he’d arrived seemed to have parted. For now.

He turned to the Kardas Dragon, who hadn’t quite known what to expect of the surface. “Well, I suppose our work here is done. You were a fine business partner, Kardas.”

Vezon took the dragon’s clawed hand and shook it. The dragon let out a growl, and Vezon took it as a sign of affection. Satisfied, he started in the direction of the footprints.

✴        ✴        ✴

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Krahka smiled wryly. The Tahtorak roared in response.

Moments ago, she and the Tahtorak had emerged from an opening in the Field of Shadows someone had opened and forgotten. She wasn’t sure where she had arrived, or even how much time had passed while she was in there, but from the looks of it, she was quite far removed in time and space from the battle for Metru Nui. Her alliance with the Tahtorak had, for the most part, been one of convenience at the time, and when they found themselves stuck in the dark realm, she initially regretted her choice of traveling companion. After all, she had no clue what answer she could give him to quell his rage.

As it turned out, his company was the only thing that kept her sane.

She was pretty sure the Zivon was still kicking in there, but she did not care. Somehow she would have to find her way back to Metru Nui, and one glance at the sky revealed she wasn’t in the same world as the island metropolis. But thanks to something Onewa had once told her about the striking blue sky in the realm above the city, she knew which direction she had to go.

“Down,” she thought aloud.

She glanced at the Tahtorak who was already moving in the direction of some large crimson creature distant in the forest, barely visible from their position. For a moment, she considered trying to convince him to return to Metru Nui with her, but then she dismissed it.

Metru Nui was never his home, she thought. Maybe now he’ll find a way back to wherever he’s from.

Krahka shapeshifted into a tunneler and was about to burrow into the earth when she noticed a small Matoran settlement in the distance.

She stiffened. The Toa Metru, not the Matoran, had been her allies, and approaching them could be a very big risk. On the other hand… she had no guarantee she knew where she was going, and if this really was the island Onewa had spoken of, perhaps she would find the Toa Metru here. And if not, they’d at least give a Toa directions.

Shapeshifting into the form of Toa Nokama, Krahka started off, praying the Toa Metru would be there… and if they were, that they had not forgotten all that had happened in Metru Nui.

✴        ✴        ✴

Kraata-Kal moved slowly through the Piraka Fortress, the irreparable nektann outside left to deliver a message sent straight from the Shadowed One.

The Dark Hunters had arrived.

As the agent descended along the hall, his veteran eyes darted along every inch of the passage, wary of traps. Most of the doors were slightly ajar, their locks broken, like someone had been looking for something in a hurry. As Kraata-Kal poked his head in a few, he noted a host of items both familiar and unfamiliar. Most had probably been salvaged from Mangaia or any places the Piraka had visited on their trip. A few were recognizable as having originated from Odina, although how the Piraka could have hauled them here in the little boat they had escaped with was beyond him. In one corner, he recognized a stuffed Rahi belonging to Lurker.

He stepped back into the corridor to see Sentrakh and Amphibax approaching.

“Hakann’s information was correct,” he informed them. “It is quite fortunate we intercepted his courier Rahi in time. By the looks of it, Vezon won’t be turning the mask over to the Shadowed One like he’d hoped, but anyone could have foreseen that. Any movement off the shores?”

“I saw something on the way here,” Amphibax reported, “Some Toa went for a swim before rejoining her team and heading inland. When I came to report it, I found the weapons of the Piraka in the jungle. Probably forgotten in a rush.”

“Monitor that,” Kraata-Kal ordered. “Leave the weapons as bait should the Piraka return to them — they are more useful to the Shadowed One that way. I suspect, however, that our old friends will be wherever the Toa are. I’ll finish searching this fortress and then Sentrakh and I will scour the island. One way or another, we’ll find them. Capture if possible, but dispatch if necessary. Everything else is expendable.”

The two Dark Hunters started back outside. Kraata-Kal turned and resumed his search. As he went, he noted everything he saw, including an interrogation chamber, a laboratory, and a makeshift forge. One, a control room, had a few small telescreens packed inside. The Piraka had been quite industrious during their time here, he reflected. Infinitely more so than they had ever been on Odina. There they had generally been referred to by their codenames — “Trigger,” “Tracer,” “Drifter,” “Snake,” “Beast,” “Bully,” and, most recently, “Spider,” although their true names had been publicized by the Shadowed One to accelerate their capture.

The Kraata-Kal reached the end of the hallway where an abrupt turn led him into a massive central chamber. Debris and masonry littered the room, as though the fortress had been pulverized, pulverized again, and trampled by a herd of Kikanalo. Something which, knowing them, probably isn’t all that far from the truth, Kraata-Kal reflected.

Dominating the chamber were the shattered remains of a giant vat. If it had ever contained anything, it didn’t now. All that remained was a green-black aura in the air around it.

He paused as a familiar sensation crossed his awareness. A tingling feeling that was all too familiar.

Makuta,” the Kraata-Kal breathed.

“Take your companions and leave the island,” a tense voice growled in his mind. “The interference of the Shadowed One will only get in the way.”

Kraata-Kal felt a wave of emotion sweeping over him as Makuta’s power took hold. But whether it came from him or from the other was anyone’s guess. “The Shadowed One will not be pleased that yet another legendary mask has eluded him. If I disobey him again, it may shatter the delusions we have so carefully set in place.”

“The Shadowed One won’t matter very soon,” Makuta’s voice replied. “If he begins to kill you, flee to Destral with your tablet of transit and tell them you’re one of my personal agents. I expect you’ll find, however, that he will be too distracted with a new Brotherhood onslaught and an instigation from Vanisher to care much. In fact, he’ll welcome the return of three of his more powerful soldiers.”

“But how could I return to Destral when they only know me by the cover we established? That I’m one of your mistakes?” Kraata-Kal insisted. “What if the Brotherhood doesn’t accept the tablet of transit?”

The master of shadows bristled. “I am the Brotherhood. I established the tablets, I placed one in your hands, and the Makuta obey me. As will you.”

The Dark Hunter bowed his head. “If you’re certain,” he conceded.

“My Plan accounts for everything.” Makuta said briskly. “Tell the Shadowed One the seven Piraka have been intercepted by Makuta Icarax and spirited to Destral. Take one of the trophies they stole from my lair as proof. Inform him that the Toa Inika found and lost the mask to the ocean — but that recovering it will deplete his army and resources. That will keep him preoccupied until I can handle him myself.”

Kraata-Kal watched the green-black aura gathering under Makuta’s force of will and drifting for the outside. The Dark Hunter nodded and turned to go. It would be difficult convincing the others, but it would be done. Perhaps he would even make a show of stealing something himself to distract the Shadowed One from the Piraka. In any case, one way or another, Makuta had always been right. The Shadowed One would be nothing to worry about.

✴        ✴        ✴

“Great. Just another thing we have to worry about,” snapped Avak as he watched Kraata-Kal storm out of their fortress from the cover of the forest. “Who reported our location to the Dark Hunters? Hakann, was it you?”

“The Shadowed One is the least of our concerns,” Vezok snapped. “My limbs are shrinking, and I don’t look good fun-sized.”

“Reidak looks like a Matoran already,” Hakann laughed. “His arms and legs don’t bend anymore. They crack every time he tries.”

“Keep laughing, Hakann, and I’ll give you joints in places you’ve never thought possible.”

“Shut up, Reidak.” Thok sighed. “You’re the idiot that got us into this mess. If you’d only listened to the voice—

Vezok led us into the tunnel—”

“Silence,” Zaktan ordered. “The longer you Manas-breath morons spend bickering, the more of a head start the Toa gain. Let’s forget about retrieving our equipment from the fortress, it will be here when we get back.”

“Assuming we can get back,” Vezok growled.

For once, the Piraka were silent as the hard truth sank in. At length, Zaktan spoke.

“The Mask of Life can change us back. It will give us back our old forms. It has to. Now… our only hope lies with the Ignika.”