Chapter Twenty-Four: Breaking Point

Note: Journey's End Chapter 5, 6 section 1 can be read here.

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Inside the robot body Makuta controlled, a violent earthquake rocked every land mass. Buildings toppled, trees were hurled into the air, tidal waves smashed into coastlines and the inhabitants of countless islands fled in panic. They had known something like this once before, a little over 1000 years ago, and called it the Great Cataclysm.

Tahu had been standing beside Takanuva, Toa of Light, when the quake hit. Both were knocked off their feet from the quake. Tahu glanced up to see a mass of metal falling right toward them. He unleashed his power of flame, vaporizing the solid iron.

“What… what was that?” asked Takanuva. “An attack by Makuta?”

“I don’t think so,” Tahu said, struggling back to his feet. “I think our old enemy just ran into someone who knows how to throw a punch.”

The Toa of Fire pointed up ahead. The Rahkshi had been scattered like leaves in the wind by the tremors. They were only now regaining their feet and continuing their journey south.

“Are they ever going to get where they’re going?” asked Takanuva. “We’ve been traveling for days.”

“And picking up Toa as we go,” Tahu reminded him. “Let them keep going. By the time they stop, we’ll be ready for them.”

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Pridak picked himself up off the ground, seething with rage.

His deal with the Shadowed One had been struck. He, Kalmah and Mantax had rebuilt their legions, while Ehlek had returned to the sea to gather his own troops. Of Carapar, there had been no sign for some time. They were poised to strike as soon as the Shadowed One unleashed the viruses on Makuta Teridax. The universe would be theirs to rule once more.

Then… nothing. The appointed time had come and gone, with only a violent earth tremor to mark it. At first, Pridak thought that quake was a sign that the Shadowed One had succeeded. But it rapidly became obvious that nothing had changed. Teridax was still in control.

Now Pridak had a choice. March on Metru Nui, and risk destruction at the hands of the Makuta, or stay put and risk rebellion by his legions. He had been a fool to rely on anyone else, he decided. The Shadowed One was, to use an old saying of his people, “either dead or fled.”

Pridak looked around. His legion was armed and ready. He was a warrior, a conqueror. He had lived his whole life awaiting this moment: the conquest of Metru Nui and the downfall of the Great Spirit. It was the destiny for which he’d been fated. He had been here once before, only stopped by Teridax and the Brotherhood. Now the Brotherhood was no more, and Teridax himself was the Great Spirit that would fall now. Destiny had been generous, and the taste of revenge was already in his mouth.

There was no other choice.

“We march!” he yelled, to the cheers of his troops.

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In a chamber on the island of Xia, the stone floor was littered with the shattered remains of precious vials. Of their contents — and of the Shadowed One — there was no trace. No one would look very hard for him. They were too busy trying to determine why every Vortixx in a kio radius had met a horrible death… and just what on their island could possibly have pulverized living beings into fragments, without leaving any sign of its presence.

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Lariska’s last dagger arced gently across the room and sank effortlessly into the wall. With a mighty sigh, she dropped her throwing stance and stalked over to retrieve her daggers. Trinuma had failed to give her a new mission for weeks now. If this keeps up, I’ll start using civilians as target practice. Maybe then I can stop listening to all their useless gossip.

“A Nui-Rama doesn’t buzz on the Tren Krom Peninsula without Stelt hearing about it.” Even under Makuta’s reign, that saying held true. She had heard them whispering behind her back since she arrived. Haven’t you heard? The Shadowed One is dead. Makuta finally got him. Took out half of Xia to kill him; the whole island’s a wasteland.

Everyone seemed to expect Lariska to have some sort of reaction to this news. They must have been terribly disappointed when she simply nodded and returned to her room to practice her aim. If he’s dead - which I very much doubt - then what’s it to me? she mused. Makuta’s reign has changed things. It’s every Dark Hunter for themselves now. She yanked a dagger out of the wall, then whirled around and buried it up to its hilt, as if the wood were her enemy’s flesh. If he’s dead, then Makuta’s only saved me the trouble of killing him!

That was enough practice for the night; time to go up and see what miserable food the shopkeep had been able to smuggle down to the rebels. Lariska sheathed her daggers and darted up the stairs, looking for Trinuma. If there had been a supply shipment, he’d be the first to know.

Something moved in the corner of her eye. She whirled, a dagger already in her fingers, and a terrified Fa-Matoran screamed and ducked. Behind him, there were only the shadows behind the weapon racks, stretched and distorted by the base’s dim light. Lariska scowled at the Matoran and turned away, stalking through the base.

Again! This time, Lariska caught a glimpse: there was a figure moving in the shadows, hugging the wall, moving towards the staircase and the hidden door to the street. As she watched, the silhouette slithered up the stairs and disappeared through the closed door.

Trinuma had forbidden anyone to use that door without clearance, but he was a fool if he thought Lariska was bound by his orders. She slipped it open and crept into the alleys of Stelt, shutting it tight behind her. There - the figure was at the alley’s end, drifting around the corner. Quickly, quietly, Lariska followed, trailing the shadow through the midnight streets.

No small part of her was enjoying this. She hadn’t had such an elusive quarry since that night in Metru Nui… She put that memory out of her mind and darted behind an empty vendor stand, even as the shadow slipped up the street, towards the hill district.

She followed the shadow to one of Stelt’s great mansions. Not a single lightstone was lit; the house was a looming silhouette. The building towered over the garden of stones in its lawn, looking over the market district down below.

Standing on its lawn was the shadow. Now that he stood still, Lariska recognized him, and realized she had known all along. “You could have just spoken to me,” she growled, sheathing her daggers and following Darkness into the mansion. “He ordered you to toy with me, didn’t he? Another one of his little games.”

They moved up a long, sprawling staircase, along a cold, empty hallway, and through a heavy door into a darkened room; a study, perhaps. Darkness melted away as soon as she entered. Though she saw nothing, Lariska could feel a thick carpet beneath her feet, a wooden desk a few steps before her… and the calm, quiet breathing of a figure behind that desk.

“Welcome back, Lariska,” came the Shadowed One’s voice. “I’m sure my return comes as no surprise to you.”

“No pleasure, either,” said Lariska, pacing, as she always did, across the carpet. She stopped when she stepped in a pile of ash. “Why drag me out here in the dead of night?”

“I have a mission for you,” said the Shadowed One. “Perhaps your most difficult yet.”

“I’ve managed everything you’ve thrown at me,” said Lariska. Her pacing had taken her to the side of the room. There was a shelf there, hard and long, filled with stone tablets. “What’s one more mission?”

The Shadowed One laughed softly. “Let me give you a history lesson, Lariska. When Makuta Teridax struck down Mata Nui, he did so from a specific location… from which a single virus could throw the Great Spirit into a deep slumber. But he didn’t find that place himself.”

Lariska crisscrossed the carpet, avoiding the pile of ash, as the Shadowed One continued. “He sought the counsel of Makuta Mutran, who told him where to go, and how to poison the Great Spirit.” Somehow, she could sense the Shadowed One grinning. “Do you know how Makuta Mutran came by that information?”

“If I had to guess,” said Lariska, stretching her arms, “I’d say he tortured one of his subjects for it. But that seems too simple for one of your tales.” She had finished stretching, and now paced up to the front of the desk. “So go ahead… how did Mutran know where it was?”

“Two words,” said the Shadowed One. “Tren Krom.”

Lariska froze. “No.” The darkness seemed to close in around her as she realized what the Shadowed One wanted. “No! You’re not going to get any help from me,” she said, backing away.

“Why, Lariska,” said the Shadowed One, “I’m not asking for much. I just want you to think back, and remember.”

“Find Brutaka. He was there - he’ll know where you need to go.”

“But Brutaka isn’t here,” came the Shadowed One’s voice, echoing through the gloom. “For a precious few moments, Lariska, you had access to all the secrets of the universe.”

Images, feelings, memories were coming back, memories that she had locked away the moment she was off that island. “He saw into your mind, and you saw into his.” Now she could feel the stinging slime where the tendril had grabbed her, and the feeling - the feeling as if the edges of her mind were being burned away…

“I can’t imagine why you would let all of that go to waste,” he insisted, keeping his voice soft. “What are you afraid of, Lariska?”

Lariska cried out and lunged, slamming her dagger into the desk. “You don’t know what I went through!” she hissed. “I don’t think about that island. I’ll go mad if I do.”

She took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t risk your best operative for a fleeting chance of knowledge. You need me. We both know that.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I do need you, Lariska.”

When he spoke again, his voice was deathly soft. “Seize her.”

Four strong arms appeared out of the darkness and grabbed her. She whirled, yanking her good arm free and plunging a dagger into the creature behind her - and again - and again. Three lethal strikes to the torso, but he only grabbed her harder, almost crushing her within his arms. Even now, she couldn’t sense him breathing.

“Your daggers won’t do much against Sentrakh, my dear,” said the Shadowed One. His chair scraped the floorboards as he rose. Somewhere in the shadows, there was the sound of crackling energy. “You’re not familiar with my rhotuka power, are you, Lariska? I do prefer not to use it, but sometimes, circumstances force my hand.”

She struggled, thrashing and kicking with enough force to topple most giants, but Sentrakh held her tight. She felt him dragging her forwards, and latched her foot onto the shelf, trying to resist, but to no avail. Desperately, she sank her teeth into his arm, but he didn’t flinch.

“You’ve made it quite clear that you won’t willingly call on those memories,” said the Shadowed One. “Perhaps you’ll be more forthcoming in an… altered… state of mind.”

The rhotuka spinner let off a flickering orange glow, just enough to see the Shadowed One stepping towards her. Strange shadows danced across his face as he grinned down at her. “Lights out,” he hissed, and the rhotuka struck.