Chapter 4: Hail to the Chief

Artidax was a perfect prison. Makuta Krika had altered the island’s flora, fauna, and landscape itself to keep Makuta Miserix imprisoned within its volcanic core. He had done an excellent job, as his prison had kept Miserix confined for well over 60,000 years, until several Order of Mata Nui prisoners had risked life and limb to free him.

No one knew this better than Brutaka, who now found himself trapped on the very island he had ventured to months before. The Makuta essence bonded to him would be no help in escaping; in fact, it was a hindrance. Outside this chamber were swarms of insectoid Rahi who thirsted for antidermis, and if he ventured to the beach, the black sands would swallow him whole. To make matters worse, the dark clouds swirling around the island blocked all attempts at teleportation.

So Brutaka waited, his mind merging with impatient antidermis, for Axonn. How can we be sure he will come for us?

Simple, he responded. We were lost once before - adrift, unmoored from the cause of destiny. We lost sight of the Great Spirit, and risked our life to claim power. But even when we were lost to ourselves, willing to take up arms against him… Axonn still came for us. He always will.

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Seven islands away, Axonn trudged through a dense jungle, cutting away the vegetation in his path. One swing of his axe uncovered a stone block, all but swallowed by the rich earth. He knelt down and brushed away the soil, revealing a line of carvings. The letters had been weathered and worn over thousands of years, but he could still make out the familiar words: CITADEL GATE. His memory had not failed him.

Axonn hacked away a curtain of vines and continued. It had taken him some time to get his bearings, but once he had, navigating through the southern islands was no trouble. True, the buildings were old and ruined, and the jungles were greatly overgrown… but he could still recognize the sites of his long-ago conquest.

He saw the stone walls up ahead, and cut through four trees at once to reach the clearing. Above him stood his ancient citadel - overgrown, weathered, and slowly sinking into the earth, but still standing, and still towering over the trees. And, apparently, still inhabited!

Axonn watched the signs of movement within the citadel. Here and there, he caught flashes of the natives’ colorful armor, moving between the pillars and stairs. They were a proud species, built for climbing, with four clawed limbs and prehensile tails. Several were standing guard, but they had left obvious gaps in their perimeter. If Brutaka were here, he would have simply slipped through, crept up on their chieftain, and coerced them into cooperating. But since Brutaka isn’t here to object, Axonn decided, I’m going to do things my way.

He scraped the jungle grime off his armor, and strode proudly into the clearing, planting his feet on the steps to the citadel’s entrance. “People of the citadel tribe!” he called, his voice shaking dust from the crumbling blocks. “I am Axonn the Conqueror. I have returned, and seek an audience with your chieftain.”

The guards stared blankly down at him. No recognition flared in their eyes. One turned and moved slowly into the citadel, while the others drew their spears and moved warily towards him. As they circled him, keeping their spears pointed at his body, Axonn made no move against them. Evidently, this tribe no longer remembered him. I can hardly blame them, he mused. After all, it’s been nearly 100,000 years since I was here last.

Up above, the first guard had returned. “The chieftain will see you,” she announced calmly. The guards gestured with their spears, and began herding Axonn up the stairs. They kept their spears close, even brushing against his armor once or twice. “Have no fear,” he reassured them. “I come in peace.”

He let the guards lead him into the darkened hallways, down crumbling corridors he had last walked long ago. Once, he recalled, these halls were decorated with the flags of the tribes he ruled. But all that was in the past now. The flags had rotted away, and the Swamp Tribe, the Spider Tribe, all of them had returned to their home isles. Only the symbols of the citadel tribe remained, carved into the crumbling walls and ceilings.

The throne room’s only light came from the holes in the ceiling where stone used to be, dimly illuminating the gloom of the cavernous hall. The guards pushed Axonn forward and shut the door. Above him towered the massive throne he had carved from an island mountain. Its occupant, high above him, was shrouded in shadows. Somewhere in the room, he could hear water bubbling.

“Chieftain of the citadel tribe,” said Axonn, “I come seeking peaceful counsel. A friend of mine is lost in these isles, and I must find him. I ask if you have seen or heard-”

“Halt,” said the chieftain. Axonn squinted at the figure. His accent was out of place, and his voice seemed… garbled, slightly, as if he were speaking through an apparatus. “Who is this friend of yours, and why do you seek him?”

“He has been my closest friend for millennia,” Axonn explained. “His name is Brutaka.”

The chieftain was silent for some time. In the darkness, Axonn saw him clasp his fingers. “Do you know of him?”

“Oh, I do,” said the chieftain. “But I never expected to hear of him again.” He spoke to the guards. “Seize him!”

Axonn let the guards grab him, and bring him before the throne. Above him, the chieftain leaned forward, into the light. To his horror, Axonn saw no ordinary biomech sitting there. The creature on the throne was bulbous, gangly, and insectile, with sickly blue flesh and large, bulging red eyes. He recognized its helmet: a breathing apparatus, worn by water-breathers like Brutaka.

“You are not of this tribe!” Axonn growled, hand on his axe. “Who, or what, are you?”

“Who am I?” The creature laughed through its watery helm. “I am Barraki Takadox. The people of this tribe live to serve me…” His eyes began to glow with a crimson light. “And now, so do you. Tell me what you know of Brutaka, and how he escaped from Artidax.”

Axonn stared up at Takadox’s gleaming eyes… and laughed. “Your hypnosis cannot control a member of the Order of Mata Nui,” he said. “Go back to the Pit, Barraki, or I’ll escort you there myself.”

Takadox’s face paled. “Restrain him!” he yelped, and scuttled down the throne, running for the door. Immediately, the guards broke their spears on Axonn’s armor, and then piled onto him with their bodies, pulling him towards the ground.

Electric bolts zapped through the pile of guards, knocking them instantly unconscious. Axonn peeled them off his body and stepped out of the room. I’ll apologize later.

Up ahead, he saw Takadox disappear around a corner, and gave chase. A group of thralls was waiting for him around the corner, but a quick stasis field took them out of the fight. Up ahead, Takadox ducked into a corridor, and the stone door slammed shut behind him. Axonn smiled. I know where that staircase leads… after all, I built it myself.

Axonn ran to the citadel’s perimeter and leapt off the edge, landing on the floor below. Dodging the guards’ arrows and javelins, he dashed into the corridors, and positioned himself at the end of a great hall. At the far end, the door slid open, and Takadox raced into the hall - then froze in terror when he saw Axonn. He turned to run, but Axonn merely fired an energy bolt at the ruined ceiling ahead. Takadox saw the bolt strike and skidded to a halt just in time. With a thunderous crash, the floor above collapsed, and a shower of stones blocked his path completely.

“Wait!” Takadox cried, as Axonn strode towards him. “The tribe obeys me. I can make them find Brutaka for you! You won’t need to - urrk!”

Axonn lifted Takadox into the air and glared into his eyes. “Listen to me, Barraki,” he growled. “You will be made to answer for your depravity. But first, I…”

With surprising speed, Takadox plunged his dagger into Axonn’s upper arm. Axonn felt his arm go limp, and it dropped to his side, hanging uselessly. Takadox had already wriggled free of his grasp, and now made a break for the other entrance. Despite the pain, Axonn grabbed his axe in his other hand and charged. Snarling with rage, he raised his axe and launched an energy bolt straight at Takadox, blasting him head over heels. He stomped over to the Barraki and pinned him beneath his foot.

“Your reign over the citadel tribe is over,” Axonn proclaimed. “You will not threaten them again. They are under my protection. As for you…”

He reached down, ripped the breathing helmet from Takadox’s face, and crushed it between his fingers. As Takadox gasped and coughed for water, Axonn stepped back and let him crawl to his feet. “There is a small beach to the west of here,” he said. “If the Great Spirit wishes, you will find it. Pray that he is feeling merciful.”

Takadox staggered from the hall, clutching at his gills. From a balcony, Axonn watched him run, gasping, out of the citadel. None of the tribe stopped to help him. He did not look away until Takadox had disappeared into the jungle.

Holding his ruined arm, Axonn ascended the citadel. He released the guards from his stasis field and staggered into the throne room, where he healed those he had struck with his electricity power. With a one-armed effort, he climbed the mountain stone, and sat on his throne one last time. Memories came flooding back, and he smiled.

When they had awoken, the citadel tribe came to find him. All bowed, and the foremost among them knelt in his honor. “Great Axonn,” she announced, “I am the true chieftain of this tribe. We do remember you from the legends, but the foul one forbade us help you. I ask your forgiveness.”

“I don’t blame you for his crimes, chieftain,” said Axonn. “He is gone now. I guarantee it.”

“On behalf of the tribe, I give you my thanks. Have you come to restore the kingdom of old?”

“Certainly not,” said Axonn. He rose, and stepped down, leaving the throne to the chieftain. “You, and the other tribes, are the masters of your own destinies. I have only come to ask your help. I am seeking a friend, by the name of Brutaka. Have any of your tribe seen him?”

“No,” said the chieftain. “But by the will of the Great Spirit, he will be found!”