Chapter Five

Clean it all…

It must be cleaned…

These tunnels must be filled… it will help clean.

The bright, peaceful lightstones in an Onu-Wahi tunnel were knocked askew and blotted out as jets of water poured through the tunnel, flooding it entirely. On the heels of the waves, Gahlok glided through the water, past the dying stones.

Clean it all…

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Mamoru ran next to the other Matoran fleeing Onu-Koro, pausing only for a moment to look over his shoulder at the ruins of his home. With no other option, he pushed himself to keep up with the rest, lest he fall behind.

“Keep moving!” Onepu called from up ahead, directing traffic from atop his Ussal crab. Beside him, Taipu held up a rock pillar supporting a cave exit.

“Go! Make for the surface!” Onepu barked.

Taipu staggered under the weight of the rock, even his mighty strength starting to fail him. But he rallied himself and hefted it up once more.

Onepu noticed Taipu’s strength failing him and shook his head. “Curse these monsters…” he muttered furiously. If he’d had it his way, they would never have yielded ground. But when Onua and Whenua had ordered a retreat after the first Nuhvok onslaught, the Onu-Matoran had been forced to give up one tunnel system after another. And now they yielded their very homes…

A flash of orange disrupted his thoughts. One final Matoran with an orange Pakari was sprinting in his direction, with a giant tidal wave closing in on him. But the Matoran was too slow — he was swept up in the wave that now surged toward Onepu and Taipu.

“Taipu! Look out!” he shouted.

Taipu was frozen at the sight of the wave, even as his arms finally started giving out. Onepu spurred his Ussal crab forward, racing toward him and tackling him, even as the flood lurched at them. The two Matoran were thrown into the dark recesses of a collapsed tunnel.

Without Taipu to support it, the pillar collapsed and plugged the cave. As consciousness faded to black, Onepu realized they had just sealed their very tomb.

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It took Onepu a few minutes to realize he hadn’t lost consciousness. Or if he had, he’d awakened some time ago — there was no way to tell without a lightsource.

He sat upright, feeling around with his hands. As far as he could tell, he was alright, and so was his crab. He looked around, a futile endeavor in pitch black. “Taipu?” he called. He whirled. “Taipu!?” he called louder.

From behind him, something stirred in the dark.

“Onepu?”

Onepu squinted and reached, feeling Taipu’s arm. In the dark light he could barely make out his friend’s eyes and heartlight, even as an Onu-Matoran. “Taipu! You’re okay!”

Taipu glanced around, his head still ringing from the crash. He’d heard of Onu-Matoran falling into chasms many kio deep, splitting open their heads and losing their sight forever. With sudden realization, he realized what had happened.

“Blind…” he uttered, horror filling his voice. “I’m blind!”

“No, you’re not blind,” Onepu snapped. He looked around, taking stock of the situation. “The tunnel collapsed. It’s dark, that’s all.”

“Oh… okay!” Taipu exhaled in relief. If anyone knew about these things, it would be Onepu, after all. “Did they all get out?”

Onepu turned back. The sights of the orange Pakari-bearer flashed before his mind’s eye. “Yes, all except one. I don’t know where he is.”

“Hello?”

Onepu and Taipu jumped.

“Who goes there?” Onepu demanded. “Show your—er—” He grimaced as he realized the Turaga or Toa could have arrived. “Who are you?” he asked feebly.

“Nuparu. Tunnel Engineer 2nd Class. Marn Tunnel 12, Sector 4,” the Matoran answered, shuffling in what sounded like a salute. “Who are you?”

Onepu’s chest puffed. “I am Onepu, High Commander of the Ussalry, Veteran of the Makuta Wars, Right Hand of Turaga Whenua of Onu-Koro… Oh… and Taipu’s here, too.”

Nuparu elevated himself on his tiptoes to look to see another pair of eyes behind Onepu’s. He started to wave… then didn’t bother. “Oh… sorry, sir. I didn’t recognize you. I’m… still a little shaken.”

“No need to apologize,” Onepu replied. “Do you have any light?”

Nuparu started. “Oh, I forgot! Yes, I have a lightstone…” He rumaged through his equipment. “Somewhere… ah!”

Nuparu pulled out a lightstone, its luminance seeming all the brighter from the surrounding darkness, nearly blinding the Onu-Matoran. But as their sight cleared, they saw—

Bohrok!

Mouth agape right and looking right at them! Onepu and Nuparu jumped back with a shout, as Taipu stumbled and fell backward.

Yet it did not advance upon them.

In fact, it did not move at all.

Nuparu courageously stepped closer, moving the light over the thing again. The Bohrok was in what appeared to be suspended animation, its headplate lowered.

“It’s alright. It’s disabled,” Onepu informed. “Look, there’s no krana.”

Taipu sat back up. “Krana?”

“Its brain,” Onepu explained. “They eject from the host body to attack.” He gestured to the motionless machine. “With no brain, the body shuts down.”

The other two Matoran looked quizzically at him.

He shrugged. “Whenua told me.” After a moment, he added. “Well, if we’re going to get out of here, I guess we’d better start digging. Nuparu, you’re an engineer—maybe you can think of something to help us.”

Onepu and Taipu shuffled off to begin moving rubble, Nuparu watched them go, but then looked again at the Bohrok, gears turning in his mind. He cocked his head, thoughtfully…

“Nuparu!”

Onepu’s voice startled him. Nuparu looked over.

“It would be better if you think and dig at the same time.” Onepu finished. Already, his crab was pushing boulders aside in the dim light, while behind him Taipu did the same.

“Wait, sir,” Nuparu replied. He looked again at the Bohrok.

“I have an idea…”

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With an assortment of drills, axes, and other tools from his satchel, Nuparu set to work disassembling the Bohrok under the illumination of his lightstone. He worked diligently and with passion; this kind of occupation was what he enjoyed, but now, he was sure it would benefit his people—not just Onu-Matoran, but Matoran all across the island.

Beside him, Bohrok headplate hopped around the cave. Confused, he squinted through the darkness, seeing Taipu run around, playing with it like a giant mask. He and Onepu were “helping” to disassemble the Bohrok for parts. Shaking his head, he focused again on his work.

Nuparu pulled out a modular launcher that could be adapted for several purposes. He quickly configured it for use with a heatstone by concentrated magnification, using the combination to weld on his forming creation. The sparks of his arc-welding tool were so bright they lit the cave farther than the light stone did, as the tool haphazardly welded and twinkled luminance throughout the cave. For some time, the engineer continued to work in secret in a far corner of the tunnel…

When at last he was done, Nuparu took a few steps backward, in awe of his handiwork. Some Matoran sculpted stone, others sculpted ice. But Nuparu’s art was another altogether. Grinning at Onepu, then at Taipu, he knew they saw that as well.

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In the now-flooded village of Onu-Koro, the Gahlok swarm continued their destructive work, as two more shot streams of water to fill the cave. They swept their aim, washing more huts under water.

Rummmmmble…

The Gahlok stopped, seeking to identify the source of the noise. The sound hadn’t come from a Bohrok. Two Gahlok moved to the side of the village, where a pile of rubble had evidently collapsed, stopping the flood.

As the Bohrok took a step closer to the pile of rocks, the mound exploded apart from the other side, sending debris flying in toward the village. In the gaping hole, there was a lightstone on the ground, illuminating the hulking silhouette of an imposing machine that alarmed even the mechanical Bohrok. They tensed in anticipation.

With whirring and clomping steps, the mechanical suit came closer, revealing Nuparu in the operating seat in the center of the exo-suit. He was flanked by Onepu on his Ussal and Taipu wielding a drill and hammer respectively.

“I’m an engineer, not a poet,” Nuparu said with a grim smile. “Besides, a practical name will be easiest for you monsters to remember. I’ll call it…” he piloted the suit’s long arms, ending in hooks to stretch out into an offensive position. “…BOXOR!”