Chapter One: “I Had a Nightmare You Were Gone”

Midnight in the village of Tesara was almost ethereal. The shadows of two massive trees
stretched across the land for what seemed like infinity, darkening the cool blue of the
night. Stars reflected off of the village’s hot springs, filling the mist with sparkling
lights. Even before the reformation of the planet, Tesara was one of the more scenic
locations in the wasteland.

It had taken some time to build up a new village from the remains of the old. While many
of the society’s leaders had insisted on staying within the united camp until a site for
New Atero was found, it was Vastus, Tesara’s old Second Glatorian, who called for the
construction of a makeshift village to replace the old. In the recent times of chaos, he
reasoned that it would be beneficial for the Agori and Matoran to have a place that felt
like home.

Now, after several days of construction, the village was paradise; a small slice of Bota
Magna in a now much more abundant forest.

From within his quaint hut in the North Tree, Vican sat in silence as he admired the
beautiful night. While Tesara slept, he remained wide awake, taking in the sights of the
empty village. If he were to be asked why he stayed up, he would simply say that he
couldn’t bear not to see the scenery at midnight.

That would be a lie, of course.

In truth, the Le-Matoran had recently been plagued by a string of nightmares. Every
night he tried to sleep, his heartlight raced while his mind was trapped in dark visions
of alternate histories. Some nights, he would see the Brotherhood of Makuta making their
return, claiming all Matoran in their grasp. Other nights, he saw a disgruntled Takanuva
tearing through Shadow Matoran, before slowly falling to the clutches of darkness.

In each scenario, he was bitterly reminded of his past, having once been mutated into a
Shadow Matoran to serve Makuta. He had kept his physical deformities gained as a result
of this fact, and his fellow Matoran had been cautious around him as a result of his
past service to Makuta. But these visions were far worse than the occasional glare or
cold shoulder, and they painted a fear he couldn’t bear to confront in his mind.

Vican stayed awake to stave off the nightmares, avoid the trauma they resurfaced. With
his extra time, he tried to help out around the village when he could, assisting in
reconstruction and going on supply runs. But he never felt more at home than when he
spent time with the Av-Matoran from the Codrex, finding some solace with others who were
also corrupted by Makuta.

So when Gavla came to his door in the dead of night asking to speak, Vican was more than
happy to help. After all, he didn’t have anything better to do.

“So, Gavla,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “What did you want to talk about?”

Gavla smiled awkwardly. “I can’t just come by to say hello?”

Vican chuckled. “You’re more than welcome to. You’ve just never said hello to me
before…”

Her eyes widened, before shutting as she spoke. “I’m sorry for that. I knew the others
in Karda Nui, and so it’s been easier to talk to them after… y’know.”

Vican knew all too well. While he hadn’t lived in Karda Nui, he had been transformed
into a Shadow Matoran just as those living there had been, and he bore witness to it
when Makuta Mutran had taken him there. But now, he and all the other former Shadow
Matoran had been cured of their afflictions, and were free to live their own lives.

“But they don’t look like you,” Gavla added. “Why?”

Looking at his wings and claws, Vican already knew what she meant. The others had their
physical mutations reversed since landing on Spherus Magna, but he still retained his
more twisted appearance. “I wanted to,” he said. “I wanted to never forget the mistakes
that led me down that path.”

Gavla nodded. “The Makuta hurt all of us. They used us. You’re not their weapon
anymore.” She paused for a moment, lost in thought, before looking back to him. “Are
you… happy, Vican?”

Vican raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve seen how they look at us,” she said. “The Matoran don’t trust someone
who served the Makuta, willingly or not. Even the others in Karda Nui distrust me, I can
tell by the way they whisper whenever I enter the room. It’s like I’m tainted. And if
it’s bad for me, I can’t imagine how bad it is for you.”

Vican sighed, gently brushing his claws together. “It is. I can’t ignore the whispers
and glares forever, especially not in this form. I know that I won’t ever really be
trusted again.”

“Would you go back?”

Vican nearly shot back in his seat. “What?!”

“Would you go back,” she repeated. “We were powerful back then, we could do things the
average Matoran couldn’t. If we’re going to be treated differently anyway, why not act
the part?”

A frown colored Vican’s mask. “We were slaves to the Makuta–”

“The Makuta are dead,” she said, leaning forward in her seat. “We serve the shadows
alone, now. We can serve a greater purpose.” She extended an open hand to him. “We can
make anyone who’s ever wronged us pay. Every last one of them.”

Vican looked down at her palm, unsure of how to reply. He knew that Gavla had felt more
at home among the Shadow Matoran, that much she made clear upon being healed. But he
also knew just how traumatizing and painful it was to be conscripted into the Makuta’s
service. He knew which dark parts of himself he was comfortable leaving behind.

“No, Gavla,” he said with a heavy exhale. “I’m never going back to that.”

Leaning back in her seat, Gavla’s expression became one of disappointment. “What a pity.
I really hoped I could bring you in willingly.” She snapped her fingers, seemingly
looking to something just above Vican’s head.

Before Vican could react, a fist struck him square in the mask, knocking him out cold.

Gavla sighed, rising from her seat. She looked down at Vican’s unconscious figure,
feeling a twinge of regret. She was instructed to sway another being to her cause, and
Vican wasn’t exactly willing, but she figured she could convince him with enough time.

Looking back up, she came to face the Dark Hunter responsible for knocking him out.

“Thank you, Dweller,” Gavla said. “Our decision to come back for you was clearly a sound
one. Even if you disagreed with it.”

Dweller shot her a glare, before turning away silently.

Gavla cringed. She and Roodaka had found Dweller’s body at the site of the caravan
battle, nearly lifeless but still hanging on. Gavla’s instinct had been to kill him, but
Roodaka insisted on putting his dream manipulation abilities to use. After a rigorous
process of torture, Roodaka was able to convince Dweller to serve her needs.

She could’ve lived without hearing his screams. It was so much easier to ignore the
suffering of one’s enemy when they died fast.

It was because of this that Gavla resented being partnered up with the Dark Hunter. He
was a living reminder of the atrocity she had aided in, an example of the harm she
brought to the world around her. That, and she suspected that he still had some hard
feelings after being left for dead.

“The rest of the village may have heard,” Dweller said plainly. “I advise we start
making our way towards the exit.”

Gavla nodded slowly, before looking down at Vican’s unconscious form. She lifted up the
Le-Matoran with a grunt, and the duo sneakily made their way out of the hut.

Deep within the darkness, in a place long since abandoned by the people of the Matoran
Universe, someone sat alone amidst the rubble of an old Matoran village. This place was
once an insignificant speck, situated in the middle of nowhere on an island barely
noteworthy enough to be recorded on any map. Now, it was little more than a catacomb of
stone and fallen monuments in a decrepit world that had those in excess. But soon, it
would be so much more than that. Soon, it would be remembered as the place where the new
ruler of Spherus Magna began her conquest.

She had borne many titles in the past. Viceroy, Diplomat, Queen. Her name had become
notorious throughout the world, as a scheming and cutthroat Vortixx willing to do
whatever it would take to meet her ends. She was powerful and cunning, and one of the
few outside the Makuta themselves who had mastered control over her inner element of
shadow. It was these abilities that made her such an invaluable asset to the Brotherhood
of Makuta.

“And now, the last of the Makuta have fallen,” Roodaka mused, scraping her claws against
the domed Suva she sat atop. “It serves them right. It was my power that freed Teridax
from his prison, my strength that allowed him to fulfill his plan. And how did he repay
me?” She felt a growl rising in her throat as she spoke. “I rotted in the Pit when he
took power. How quick he was to abandon those who gave him his throne.”

She snarled lightly, turning over her bitter feelings for her old master in her head.
Whatever resentment she held for him, one thing was certain; Makuta Teridax was dead.
This meant that Roodaka’s sway and influence the Brotherhood lended her was gone. And
with the Shadowed One rotting in prison, she could no longer rely on the Dark Hunters
for support. The web of lies and deceit she once spun had finally caught up to her, and
she was left alone. A lesser being may have given up hope.

But Roodaka always found a way to slither upwards toward victory.

Something rustled behind where she was roosted, and Roodaka turned to see Gavla
returning from her mission, leading a disoriented Le-Matoran behind her.

“The job is done,” Gavla announced, letting go of Vican’s hand as she knelt down before
her master. “As you’ve asked, I have betrayed an ally, and brought him to our cause. In
time, he will serve us greatly.”

“Excellent work, Gavla,” Roodaka replied. “Go ahead and guide him to the waiting room.
Ahkmou’s recruit will be happy to have the company.”

As Roodaka watched the Matoran leave, she thought about her new allies. Ahkmou and Gavla
had helped her fake her death and escape the Order of Mata Nui, at a cost. By their
bargain, she was to train the two Matoran in the ways of Shadow, and teach them to tap
into their inner darkness.

She stuck by her word, of course. Corrupting another was an important step in the
process, one she had undergone long ago on Xia. The two Matoran had completed this task,
and were now further on their way towards their dream. But Roodaka never did say what
would be in store for them after their training was complete.

She glanced down at the Suva beneath her feet. Six slots for Toa Stones were present, as
was traditional for the design found in Matoran villages. Once upon a time, she nearly
had a young Toa Vakama within her grasp as a loyal enforcer. And now, she was up to four
prospective Shadow Matoran waiting to serve her.

“Almost a full set,” she mused aloud.