Chapter 12: Sudden Illuminaion

Silence reigned in the shadow of the Knowledge Towers, as dozens of grey and black Rahkshi advanced down the snowy streets. Ahkmou had heard rumors that this sector’s scholars were secretly preserving the records and prophecies of Mata Nui, and requested a platoon of Rahkshi to establish full control.

As the Rahkshi advanced, none of them noticed brief stirrings of motion among the frosty buildings. None imagined there might be several dozen Av-Matoran lying camouflaged on the roofs. None of them realized they were in their last moments until Tanma had already given the signal.

Beams of light crisscrossed the city block, spearing Rahkshi armor and hemming them in on all sides. Kraata screamed as they desiccated and dissolved in the light. In a matter of moments, a small army of Rahkshi was reduced to black scraps in the snow.

Tanma walked among the carnage, accompanied by Radiak. “All clear!” he called. The Av-Matoran activated their jetpacks and shot into the clouds of Ko-Metru for cover. From there, they would disperse to different districts and prepare for the next strike, just as they had done before.

Or rather, that was what the Av-Matoran would have done, if they had not each been snatched out of the sky by Gukko. As Tanma watched in horrified shock, the flying Rahi carried his people into the frosty skies with single-minded purpose.

“Behind you!” Radiak shouted. He fired a beam of light over Tanma’s shoulder, but it glanced off the shield of the approaching figure. In response, a wheel of energy rocketed from the shield towards Radiak. He ducked to the street, only for the figure to point his spear and conjure rings of stone around Radiak’s limbs. Tanma was struck from above by a beam of ice, freezing him in place.

As the Av-Matoran struggled against their bonds, the craggy-armored Toa Pouks stepped out of the mist, a furious expression on his mask. “An entire squadron of Vahki, destroyed! What is the meaning of this, Matoran? The Great Spirit has finally returned, and you attack the keepers of the peace?”

“While you’ve given up and retreated into fantasies, we’ve had to do the work of true Toa!” Tanma snarled. “How can you turn your backs on us in our darkest hour?”

A shadow swooped low, and Toa Kualus dropped from the sky, scarf whipping in the wind. “My Gukko Force has the rest of the miscreants.” He sighed. “It’s disappointing that the lost tribe of light would stoop to such petty terrorism. Are we truly certain that the Toa Nuva cured them of the shadow’s affliction?”

“It’s you who’s afflicted!” Radiak howled. “Look around! They’re Rahkshi, all of them! Makuta reigns!”

Kualus grimaced. “It’s as I feared. They’re quite delusional.”

“You’ve lost sight of the Three Virtues,” Pouks said sternly. “Seems too many Matoran have lately.” He hefted Radiak over his shoulder, while Kualus carried Tanma. “Thankfully, the Turaga has established a safe environment for you to reacquaint yourself with the Great Spirit’s ways.”

The Toa Hagah loaded their quarry onto Kualus’ steed. “Take us to Ga-Metru.”

✴        ✴        ✴

“It’s done.”

Ahkmou leaned back in his chair and sighed with relief. “All of them?” he said giddily. “All of them, at once!” He looked across the table. “Gavla, I could hug you. If it weren’t highly improper, of course.”

“Of course,” said Gavla, smiling. “It’s the least I could do to help.”

“Nothing about this is ‘least’,” Ahkmou said. “So now that’s sorted, and-”

“You’re not done yet,” came a familiar, but strangely stern voice. A shadow fell across the table, and both Matoran turned to see a tall, jagged figure looming over them - wearing the unmistakable visage of Toa Takanuva.

“You’re… a Toa of Shadow!” Gavla gasped. “They finally caught you! You understand now, don’t you? The way it feels?”

Takanuva blinked. “Do I know you?”

“He’s not… our Takanuva,” said Ahkmou. “I don’t fully understand how it works, but he’s a… copy they made during the war, I think.” Ahkmou narrowed his eyes at the dark Takanuva. “What I really don’t understand is what he’s doing in Metru Nui.”

“I’m here to check in,” said the dark Takanuva, grinning wickedly. Ahkmou tried not to think about how alien the expression looked on Takanuva’s mask. “Makuta wants everything under control here, before some ‘old friends’ pay a visit. You’ve done a good job getting the rebels off the streets - now it’s time to make sure they don’t go back to their old ways, ever again.”

Gavla leapt from her chair. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Take the light from them, turn them into Shadow Matoran?”

“The shadow leeches are all destroyed,” said the dark Takanuva, “but Makuta’s got the next best thing in mind.” He passed a tablet to Ahkmou. “Change the supply lines in Ta-Metru. We’re adding an extra step to the process.”

Ahkmou glanced at the tablet and scowled. “I could have done that on my own.”

“Really? It seems Makuta disagrees.”

Why, you cheeky little… Ahkmou fumed. Maybe you’re not so different from our Takanuva, after all.

The dark Takanuva turned to go, but Gavla grabbed his arm. “Wait! Makuta Vamprah had a mask - it could drain the light from any being, sure as a shadow leech. The Kanohi Avsa, it’s called. We just need to find one, or forge one, and then…”

“Don’t touch me,” the dark Takanuva growled. Dark tendrils shoved Gavla aside, casting his jagged mask in eerie shadows.

“No, you don’t touch her!” Ahkmou protested.

Gavla spoke breathlessly, ignoring both. “Then… drain the light from me!”

Ahkmou and the dark Takanuva both froze. “What?”

“I’ve been a Shadow Matoran before, and it’s the only time my life made sense,” Gavla insisted. “Please - it’s all I’ll ask of you!”

Ahkmou blinked. Was that her plan, all along?

Dimly, he realized it had been his plan, too, not long ago. He’d wanted Makuta’s power, to stand alongside him as the Toa Mata stood alongside Mata Nui. Yet as he looked at the Toa of Shadow above him, he didn’t see strength - just another minion, his personality twisted into obedience. In the eyes of Makuta, this Takanuva was little more than a Rahkshi or Exo-Toa, to be deployed appropriately.

The dark Takanuva looked at Gavla curiously, and Ahkmou saw an eerie hunger in his blackened eyes - nothing else beyond that. “Makuta will transport me from here soon. Come with me, and we’ll find that mask you described.”

Gavla nodded eagerly, but Ahkmou spoke firmly: “No.”

Both rounded on Ahkmou as he drew up a map of the city. “The Av-Matoran are in custody, but the other Matoran are still syncing up resistance across districts. That means someone is running communications between them. Gavla’s light powers allow her to change her armor color, blending in with Matoran of any element - the perfect spy. If we drain her light, we lose that advantage.”

Gavla’s eyes flared with betrayal. “I helped you capture the Av-Matoran, and this is how you repay me?”

“We need this city under full control to fulfill Makuta’s plan,” said Ahkmou. “You did a good job, Gavla. Now I need you to do it again.”

The dark Takanuva gave Ahkmou a steely gaze - then shrugged. “That’s the spirit.” He waved lazily and left the room, Gavla already forgotten. “Get this place in order by week’s end.”

Gavla glared at Ahkmou. “I won’t forgive you for this.”.

“I won’t ask you to,” said Ahkmou, then looked down at the tablet with Makuta’s orders. I won’t forgive myself, either. “Now get to work.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Balta settled down on a small boulder and cradled his mask in his hands. The optimist in him tried to reassure him that everything was not so horrible. The skies might be dark, the Green Belt might be drying up without the mask buried beneath it, and Rahkshi might be circling around the horizon like leering vultures - but at least none of those Rahkshi had actually come to Voya Nui. Matoran weren’t supposed to be here, so why would Makuta bother making them work? Their only job was to survive.

He tried not to think about what would happen if Rahkshi did land here and decide to sate their appetite for destruction. Garan’s team had put up a good fight against the Piraka, but could they stand against an army of shadows? With Axonn gone, the Matoran would make easy targets for bored Rahkshi.

“Balta! I thought I might find you here,” said a familiar voice. Balta looked up to see Garan walking towards him with his characteristic limp.

The Onu-Matoran reached the boulder and held up his weapons. “Low on charge,” he explained. “You’ve still got a few power cells hidden away somewhere, don’t you? I’m going to need some repairs.”

“What’s the use?” Balta sighed. “The skies are dark. The Green Belt is drying up. We’re all going to starve, if the volcano doesn’t get us first.”

“You’ve been saying that for centuries,” Garan replied, “and it hasn’t come true yet.” He gestured to the village on the cliff above. “Look at us. We’re the Matoran of Voya Nui. Through droughts, hurricanes, and Piraka, we survive.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Balta said, “but either way, I don’t have any power cells. You’ll need to talk to Velika.”

“I would,” said Garan, “but he’s disappeared. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

Balta shrugged. “Half the time, the Great Spirit himself doesn’t know where Velika is.”

Deep beneath the two Matoran, quiet footsteps echoed in an ancient, winding stairway. Behind his mask, Velika smiled and began to hum.