Mazeka: Chapter One

In the darkness of Spherus Magna’s now-moonless night, Teridax’s eyes gleamed for a fraction of a second before igniting. Twin beams of heat vision blazed toward a piece of scrap metal he had found in the former sands of Bara Magna.

As the Makuta welded his armor shut, Mazeka prodded a small slug with a stick. It was a rather bizarre creature, and a disgusting one at that. The gelatinous creature was unlike any he’d seen, as it lacked any sort of mechanical components, and it was difficult to understand how it didn’t just dissolve into a puddle. It was only the assurance of Makuta, as well as the fact Mazeka had visited a Spherus Magna before, that prevented him from thinking he had shifted dimensions again.

“So, the Toa once again prove themselves capable of melding this planet back together,” Teridax mused. “The only difference is that the ‘Matoran’ here are the Toa of my world.”

“A handful of Toa,” Mazeka murmured. “Against scores of enemies they should have killed long ago.”

“Indeed.”

Mazeka frowned, staring into the flames.

“And now we have lost our universe.”

“It seems you have.”

Mazeka sighed. Months had passed since the day he and Vultraz had been whisked away to another dimension, and during that time, so much had changed. Mazeka had found new help in the form of an alternate Makuta Teridax that had never gone rogue, but he quickly realized it might not be enough — during his absence, his own universe’s Makuta had usurped Mata Nui as Great Spirit, spreading his shadows across the Matoran universe and reigning supreme over even nature itself. Then, mere days after he and his friend had returned, Makuta had been defeated, and the entire universe was left in ruins.

Now they were refugees on an alien planet, alone and abandoned. Even the Order of Mata Nui was scattered far and wide, and by what Mazeka had come to understand, Helryx herself had vanished. Those few Toa still alive were working to bridge the cultural divide between Spherus Magna’s old residents and the new, but fresh threats were quickly rising to take Makuta’s place.

“It is a wonder there are any Toa left,” Mazeka added. “Only a thousand years ago, there were several hundred. Ten thousand years ago, there were a few thousand. Now… less than fifty.”

Makuta said nothing.

“So many Matoran view the Toa as being like deities — sons and daughters of Mata Nui himself, living embodiments of the elements themselves. But I never understood that, and few Matoran south of Metru Nui did either. The Tren Krom Peninsula rarely saw any Toa. Only time they paid us any attention was when the region was caught up in a big war fifteen thousand years ago — and even then, they only stayed long enough to clean up their own mess. They’ve just gone out and died, leaving us Matoran to fend for ourselves.”

“The Toa here have failed you.”

“What?” Mazeka asked, startled. He hadn’t quite expected Makuta to share his sentiment. He’d actually expected to argue the point.

“You are a Matoran. You are that which the Toa are sworn to protect. But your universe fell into ruin because the Toa did not possess the mettle to do what was necessary. That is why my counterpart and those like him won. He did not lose sight of the ends of his Plan. The Toa, in their naïveté, failed to recognize what they had to do to win. Their complacency fostered their own downfall.”

“Yes. The Order, at least, was willing to take more practical measures, if they had to.”

Makuta magnetically pulled the last of the softened metal together. He glanced up at Mazeka, then at some of the village lights in the distance.

“My armor is as good as it is going to get under the circumstances. Let us rest tonight and tomorrow head for Bota Magna. If we find threats to peace before we reach the Great Beings of this world, we will eliminate them as we go. Locating the Great Beings is paramount, however.”

Threats to peace…

“Mazeka.”

The Matoran roused, then looked up at the pearl-white-armored Makuta. “What?”

“Have you taken life?”

“Sure. I leave people to die all the time.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

For a moment, Mazeka was taken aback — then he snorted.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? I was in the Order, for Mata Nui’s sake. We didn’t impose the same rudimentary restrictions on ourselves that the Toa loved so much.”

Makuta said nothing for a while, and as the flickering light danced across his lustrous armor, Mazeka’s indignance dissipated. He was transfixed by the sight.

“The time is approaching when we will be forced to take lives if we are to restore order and justice to this world. When that time comes, I cannot afford any hesitation on your part. Understood?”

“Of course,” Mazeka shook his head as he laughed loudly. “But let’s not forget that I chose you for this very purpose.”

“Perhaps you chose me because I could do the things you could not. Be the thing you could not.”

Mazeka squinted. In the darkness, he couldn’t tell if the soft-speaking Makuta was joking or not.

“I never failed the Order,” the Matoran said slowly. “I will not fail you. I am trained to be merciless.”

“Then tell me of your first kill.”

Mazeka stared absently into the flames, his mind’s eye returning to a day four years ago, when the vacuum of darkness was as oppressive as it was tonight. Mazeka’s own dagger poised over the fallen form of a Brotherhood spy… The voice of a De-Matoran pleading with him to stop…

And Mazeka’s unforgiving wrath pushing him to the precipice…

“Let me hear the story of the very first time you took life.”

Mazeka lowered his eyes and began his tale.

“It was a Shadow Matoran four years ago. I had only just been recruited into the Order of Mata Nui, around the time Vultraz attacked a village of De-Matoran on the Tren Krom Peninsula. It was my hope that I could hunt him down then and there, before he escaped the continent. But my quarry proved elusive…”