Part Two

As a slow wind blew over the desert sands, Takanuva, Toa of Light, was forced to consider whether this would be his last battle.

Every Skrall in the platoon in front of him had risen back to their feet — evidently, it took more than a few well-timed blasts of light to take down the warriors of this world. A short conversation with Kiina and Gresh had taught him that when the only things between you and death are a sword and a shield, you fight quick, you fight dirty… and you don’t stay down if you can help it.

The platoon leader threw down the melted slag of his weapon, which cooled to a dim red in the sand. “So there is some fight in you servitors,” he spat. “That’s new. A measure more spine than a Glatorian, at least. But no matter. A few petty light shows are nothing compared to Skrall steel in the end.”

His fellow bandits let out a fierce roar.

“You fought bravely,” the foot soldier in front of Takanuva added, lunging to the side to retrieve his sword, “but we need that water to survive.”

Ironic, a familiar voice echoed in the Toa of Light’s mind.

As the platoon leader raised his Thornax launcher and prepared to fire, the assembled warriors heard a rumbling in the distance — and the next instant, Takanuva was greeted by the sight of a torrential wave of liquid protodermis crashing over the dunes. The silvery deluge parted ways around the Toa, leaving him untouched as the entire Skrall platoon was swept away into the desert.

Moments later, a blue mask rose over the sands — a Kaukau Nuva, now sporting a visor right above the eyeline. The Ga-Matoran cheered, running out from behind their boulder to greet their newfound savior.

“Very impressive, sister,” Takanuva called out, “but I think I could have handled that.”

Gali Nuva leapt down from the dune to the now-soaked ground below, observing her handiwork. “Maybe the ones in front of you, brother, but there were three more creeping up from behind. It can’t hurt to be more careful every now and then.”

Takanuva sighed, as the Toa of Water sent the Matoran to finish gathering water the Agori could drink. “Come on, Gali, give me some credit. I could have taken them.”

“Of course. I imagine you also ‘could have taken’ Makuta Bitil in the Swamp of Secrets.” She smirked. “If Kopaka hadn’t been there, I think you’d be… ‘swamp-bones’ by now?”

Takanuva smiled. “Yes, well… Thank you. Aren’t you needed in the Silver Seas, sister? I thought you were helping rescue the native Rahi.”

“I’m on a special assignment from Tahu,” she said, kneeling down to inspect a drenched Skrall halberd stuck deep into the sand. “He’s calling all the Toa Nuva together for a meeting. As for what he wants to discuss, I cannot say.”

“Then I guess we’d best be on our way. The Matoran have what they came for,” he said, motioning to their amphorae filled to the brim with clear, sparkling water.

As the pair of Toa and their Matoran companions trekked up the side of the protodermis-soaked dune, Takanuva once again thought about their question — what did it mean to be a Toa of Light? And what good was being such a thing if he couldn’t even help the desperate and thirsty out of the dark?

✴        ✴        ✴

The blasted sands around Takanuva and Gali and the harsh sun above soon gave way to a cool oasis, overflowing with life. With what little power he had left, the Great Spirit had converted much of the Bara Magna desert into such landscapes, where he hoped the beings of both worlds could thrive. Organic creatures — similar in shape to the biomechanical Rahi they had always known, yet still quite unfamiliar — flew and galloped all around the two Toa.

“All this… All this, and it still isn’t enough? All the power the Great Spirit had wasn’t enough for everyone?” the Toa of Light wondered aloud.

“It may not be as simple as whether there’s enough, brother,” Gali answered. “The people of Spherus Magna have had to fight for everything they had for thousands of years — they don’t know any other way of life. And the people of our universe…”

“The Matoran of Metru Nui had to abandon our home, and couldn’t go back for a thousand years,” Takanuva continued for her, “and now everyone under the Great Spirit’s watch is living that same fate.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” asked Pohatu, Toa Nuva of Stone, seeming to appear out of nowhere and wrap his arm around Takanuva’s shoulders. The Toa of Light leapt up into the air with a frightened yelp, as Pohatu and Photok burst out laughing.

“Stop doing that, brother,” Gali snapped. “Onua nearly died of shock yesterday.”

“Surely there’s a better use for traveling at the speed of light…” Takanuva complained.

“No doubt,” the Av-Matoran on Pohatu’s back replied, “but we can have a little fun every once in a while, can’t we?”

“Tahu sent me to see if you’d gotten lost, sister,” Pohatu explained.

“Not lost. Takanuva and these Matoran had a run-in with a band of Skrall, and were delayed.”

“Well, I’m sure the two of you being a few minutes late is no problem,” the Toa of Stone replied, “but you know how Tahu can be.”

“Quite well,” Takanuva confirmed, “and given what we just experienced… Well, we have a lot of work to do on this world. Let’s keep moving.”

As the Toa and Matoran reached the top of the last hill between them and their destination, Takanuva and Gali couldn’t help but be freshly surprised by everything before them. Not far ahead was a wall of metallic protodermis, seeming to stretch from one end of the world to the other, standing higher even than the clouds. Between the remains of the Matoran Universe and the Toa was a makeshift village at least the size of Ta-Metru — and thousands of refugees working tirelessly to dismantle their old home.

“A year ago, I never could’ve dreamed there were this many Matoran,” Gali commented. “And to think this is just the people of the Northern Continent…”

“It’s quite a sight,” Pohatu responded, using his power over stone to flatten an easy path down the hill. He motioned over to a low valley, covered peak-to-peak with stone hexagons. “See over there? I’ve been at work all day raising houses out of the ground for them. Lots of people, all of them anxious. Not enough time.”

“Then let’s not waste another minute,” replied Takanuva. “How fast can we get down there?”

Pohatu grinned, his Kakama Nuva glowing with power. “How fast can you count to three?”

✴        ✴        ✴

With the power of Pohatu’s Kakama Nuva, the group reached the edge of the camp in a fraction of an instant. In front of them, a fight appeared to be breaking out between a Steltian and a smaller, slimmer being over a basket of Vuata Maca fruit, with a disinterested Glatorian watching on the sidelines.

Vastus sized up the Steltian bruiser in seconds, barely turning his head at the arrival of the Toa. “The big one throws around his weight too easily,” the Jungle Glatorian critiqued. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Takanuva glared at the veteran warrior in disbelief. “What, you’re going to let this go on? You can see they’re not holding back — someone could die here today.”

Vastus sighed deeply. “You remind me of a Glatorian named Gresh, Toa… Always leaping into danger for another’s sake. You don’t get how things work around here, do you? If you want something, you need to be able to defend it. That’s the rule around here. It’s why I agreed to the arena system, all those years ago.”

“That’s absurd,” interjected Pohatu. “You can’t just expect a fight to decide who deserves to eat, and who deserves to starve. If somebody needs something that badly, it’s our duty as Toa to help them get it.”

“My brother is right,” Gali affirmed. “If we did things your way, what would stop the powerful from simply taking whatever they want? Isn’t that what happened to your people, when the Skrall came south? I’m going to speak to these two, and see for myself who that basket belongs to.”

“I wouldn’t get in the middle of that right this second,” advised Vastus, as the Steltian brought down a titanic blow. His opponent dodged easily, scampering up the bruiser’s back and covering his eyes. The giant stumbled around for a moment, the smaller being showing off as the crowd laughed.

Vastus’ voice hushed down to a desert wisp. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Toa — everyone around here ‘deserves’ to eat. Everyone deserves to drink. But when there’s not enough to go around, you can’t play favorites. When resources are as scarce as they are now, it stops being about ‘deserving,’ or ‘belonging,’ and starts being about ‘owning.’”

Takanuva contemplated Vastus’ words for barely a moment, then huffed in disapproval. “I’ve had enough of this,” the Toa of Light insisted. Before any of the others could react, he fired a bolt of light towards the pair of combatants — it struck the smaller being head-on, searing a streak of black into his blue-colored armor. The nimble warrior fell to the ground and moaned in pain.

“See? Crisis averted. Now we can continue on our way.”

Rather than abandon the fight, the Steltian gleefully took the opportunity to stomp his fallen opponent into the ground, making off with several of the fruits from the basket. The crowd broke into a frenzy to seize what was left for themselves.

“Crisis averted, huh?” mocked Vastus.

The Toa simply glared.

“Fine,” Vastus conceded, rolling his eyes as he drew his Venom Talon. The Glatorian blasted a wave of powerful wind into the crowd, calling everyone’s attention to him. “Listen up! Scavenging like sand dogs serves none of us. If you have some food, take it — if you don’t, go home. Fighting like this will only make us weaker. Now, break it up!”

The mob of Matoran and Agori grumbled briefly before filtering out through the camp’s dusty alleyways. Moments later, the fighter Takanuva burned stood up, limping away with nothing to show for his efforts.

“Look, this is a new world for you,” Vastus said, putting away his weapon. “We have a different philosophy here, and you’re going to have to adapt. I know I did, when I first had to fend for myself. But we’re adapting together, you Toa and us Glatorian. And it may not be pretty right now, but… I’m sure someday, we’ll make something work — together.”

“I hope so,” said Takanuva. Although he couldn’t see it, some part of him swore that the sun shone just a bit dimmer.