Part 1

“Brutaka!”

The unfortunate owner of the name grimaced as he felt himself pulled from his sleep and yanked to awareness once again. The light of the room pierced his dream like a knife, and he was left with no choice but to open his eyes to the sterile white of the Daxia facilities.

He grumbled something inaudible, rolled off of his sleep mat, and was instantly met by the face of Hydraxon.

“Oh… what sort of dream have I fallen into to see such a lovely face?” the gold warrior groused, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Enough,” Hydraxon growled. “You’re needed in the ready room.”

Brutaka rose to his feet, summoning his wits about him, and the two started for the main operations room of the Order’s higher command.

There was no denying that, as species of the universe went, Hydraxon was fairly tall. He conducted himself, however, as if he were even taller than he actually was. Despite being shorter than Brutaka, Hydraxon carried about himself an air of superiority, haughtiness, and subtle menace. Having not so long ago left the employment of the Brotherhood of Makuta, Brutaka had more than his share of experience with such individuals.

He also knew how to deal with intimidation.

“So remind me,” Brutaka grunted. “What are you doing here?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Because last I checked,” Brutaka glanced at him. “You were supposed to be on permanent assignment. In the Pit, if memory serves.”

“Astute observation,” Hydraxon remarked acidly.

“Get delayed again?”

“For the last time, I’m informed. But I’m told this operation demands my attention.”

“I’m sure all those inmates will miss your sunny demeanor.”

“It’s the only sun they’ll be getting in a very long time,” Hydraxon said briskly, pushing open the doors to Daxia’s underground war room.

Brutaka glanced around, noting the inhabitants, recognizing some of the usual faces. Helryx was at the center, surrounded by a train of lieutenants who today included a female commander with antlers who was slightly shorter but far bulkier than Helryx, and a male tactical officer with four arms and a gnarled axe.

Brutaka still had difficulty remembering names, being only a recent recruit himself, but at least he had the important one, anyway. If you knew one name, you had to remember Helryx. As the first Toa in existence and the recognized leader of the Order of Mata Nui, she was easily the most pivotal of all the members.

The Toa of Water glanced up as the two warriors stepped in.

“Welcome, Brutaka,” she said, raising herself to her full height. She cocked her head slightly. “How’s that Olmak fitting you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Brutaka unconsciously adjusted his new mask. “I’m humbled by the gesture, and will make good use of it.”

“Good,” Helryx nodded. “You’ll be needing it. As you’ve probably guessed, you’ve been brought here due to your expertise in the southern islands. You know the lands better than many in the Order, and your work down there has been invaluable.”

“Glad to know I’m of some use,” Brutaka noted wryly.

“Yes. Your capabilities have been tools that have proven indispensable. But today we don’t need a tool. We need a weapon.”

The tactical officer gestured at the table which bore a map of an angular island covered in mountains and foothills. Brutaka knew it well; it was an island home to four-legged, light-armored creatures that specialized in polearms and staffs. Very tribal—the residents fought a lot among themselves.

“You and Hydraxon will be deployed here,” the officer glanced up. “An island I’m sure you know well. As you may be aware, a critical situation has been developing in this region. A ragtag barraki has struck out on his own, hoping to make a name for himself. Most of the islands in the middle region of the chains have submitted, and once he adds this to his collection, he will have a launching point to proceed south.”

“None of those lands could sustain an assault like this,” Brutaka mused. “They’d fall faster than dishonest Steltian scales.”

“That is our concern, yes.”

Helryx jumped in. “Trust me. This warlord is incredibly powerful, trained by some of the best. Our understanding is that he believes he has been set aside by Mata Nui to rule over the Matoran universe and restore order.”

She folded her arms. “But last I checked, the Great Spirit didn’t destine jumped-up warlords the responsibility of ruling the universe. Given his current… philosophies, do not be surprised if you have to terminate him.”

“Hydraxon will lead the operation,” the tactical officer added. “And once he is reassigned to the Pit, you will fully take on his responsibilities as a troubleshooter. Between the two of you, there should be more than enough raw power and tactical prowess to take him down.”

Brutaka turned to look at Hydraxon, who had been standing at attention. Hydraxon didn’t move his head when the golden warrior glanced at him, but his eyes met Brutaka’s, and he gave a wolfish smile.

The golden warrior returned his attention to Helryx.

“So, who is he?” he finally asked.

The ghost of a smile drifted across Helryx’s face. “Let’s just say… he’s someone many in the Order have a history with.”

✴        ✴        ✴

The sun flashed bright across the mighty axe as it crashed to the ground in a terrifying display of strength. The whole island shook, even as Axonn raised himself back to his full height, flexing his shoulders back and lowering his head.

“‘Me and what army’?” he mocked. “Who needs an army?”

The quaking of the island ceased, yet the four-legged, white-armored envoy before him continued to tremble.

“That is, what I mean to ask is—is, how do you intend to enforce your will upon uh, us—”

With his right hand still resting on the hilt of his axe, Axonn placed his left on the shoulder of the diplomat. “Do not worry yourself with these concerns,” he murmured flatly. “They are the matters of those who have been sentient far longer than you. Go back to your people,” the silver barraki gestured to the people of the village behind the envoy, who waited anxiously. “Tell them that they now answer to me. My word is law here. Disobey and you will suffer the penalty of justice.”

“B-but what of the other tribes?” the envoy stammered out. “This is an island of tribes—unite with us and you will turn the rest against you. Dirmack will not take kindly—”

Axonn’s left hand squeezed, and the envoy winced at the pain.

“I am already in communication with the other tribes,” Axonn lied. “Each of them has already sworn fealty to me. This island was never united, not even in the dark age. It shall be now.”

The conqueror released him and turned to leave. Behind him, the envoy rubbed his shoulder where it had been painfully gripped, wisely remaining silent.

✴        ✴        ✴

Perhaps one of the most notable distinctions of this particular island is that much of the population was concentrated on the north side of the island, within the bowl-shaped canyon not far inland. Much of the land was overgrown with dense, dangerous wildlife that, while habitable, was not worth the effort of setting down permanent residences. Instead, many of the villages had settled into the winding canyon on the north, dividing up the region between them.

On a plateau close enough to view to the village, but far enough to be inaccessible to most, Axonn threw down his axe and slumped to the ground. After reviewing the small tripwires at the entrance to the cave to ensure they were intact, he allowed himself to relax slightly.

Although he was not tired, he closed his eyes and feigned sleep for some time, waiting to see if any assassins were looking for an opportune moment to strike. Unfortunately, it was as Axonn really was starting to drift off, that he heard a small noise at the entrance to the cave.

Keeping his eyes shut, he listened to determine if it was worth rousing himself or not. But when the sound repeated, he was snapped to full awareness.

His hand twitched, anxious for its axe.

A small ‘twing’ could be heard from the trip wire, and a pile of boulders crashed down on the unwelcome intruder. At the same time, Axonn leaped to his feet. Seizing his axe, he hurled it at the intruder, who was rising, stunned. The axe hit him square in the torso, sending him flying out of the cave and over the edge of the mountain’s cliff. A string of curses followed him as he flew down the mountain.

As the axe flew back into Axonn’s hands, the titan started after him.

By the time Axonn reached the base of the mountain, his golden visitor was starting to rise again. Now that Axonn saw him in the light of the setting sun, he realized he was another of the southern island’s races. His armor gleaned golden and blue, and his eyes flashed crimson. Reaching down, the visitor picked up a giant warhammer that had fallen from his grasp in his tumble to earth.

“Sister of the Great Spirit,” he gasped, the wind knocked out of him by Axonn’s axe. “Remind me to never tickle you when you sleep, by the Great Beings!”

“Let me guess,” Axonn smiled, pointing the axe at the golden warrior. “You and your kind realize you’re coming up on my list, so you figured you’d come here and submit early.”

The golden warrior chuckled. “Never been good about submitting things on time, much less early. Name’s Brutaka, by the way. I already know the name you’ve given yourself, ‘Axonn the Conqueror.’”

“Brutaka,” Axonn repeated. “Another obstacle on this path to establish order in this universe. Albeit a short-lived one.”

The silver warrior whirled and slashed his axe at Brutaka, who narrowly jumped back. Axonn wasted no time, following up with a blast of electricity lancing from his outstretched arm. Brutaka attempted to dodge, but was too slow. The lightning clipped his shoulder, hurtling him into a nearby rock edifice and causing the ground to tremble.

Axonn shook his head. These things always ended the same way.

He turned and started back to the cave, only to hear a small ding as something small bounced off his right shoulder blade.

He whirled.

Brutaka was throwing pebbles at him.

“Short-lived, eh?” he laughed. “Better than short. You always been this dwarfish? Or have people had to cut you down to size?”

Axonn’s eyes narrowed. With a mighty roar, he leaped at Brutaka, bringing his axe down with a crash like thunder, Brutaka dodged again, swinging his leg midair to kick a knee out from under Axonn. Axonn grunted in surprise, rolling with the blow, but losing his axe as he rolled.

Brutaka started toward him, but saw in a split-second the axe lying between them. This hesitation cost him, for it was all Axonn needed to form a stasis field around his attacker.

“That’s better,” he said, picking up his weapon. “I could do this all day, of course, but I have more important things to attend—”

His voice trailed off. Brutaka’s face contorted with exertion, and for the first time in his life, Axonn saw a stasis field begin to fail.

Against all odds, the golden warrior’s arm cut through the bond of the field, and Brutaka erupted from the bonds with a mighty roar. Its hold shattered, the stasis field dispersed.

Brutaka grinned, and for the first time Axonn realized his opponent was legitimately enjoying himself.

Frankly, he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Please,” Brutaka scoffed. “I’m offended if you think that’s all it will take.”

With that, he lunged for Axonn, even as the latter batted him away with the flat side of his axe. Brutaka responded with an upward thrust, which nicked Axonn’s mask.

The two exchanged blows, too evenly matched to gain a significant edge and each too proud to back down. No sooner would Axonn gain leverage over Brutaka than Brutaka would throw his weight into Axonn. Brutaka would maneuver around Axonn only for Axonn to hurl Brutaka over his shoulder. As the battle progressed, both ceased using their powers, as if some strange understanding had emerged between them regarding the nature of this duel.

After what felt like an eternity, Axonn flung his axe at Brutaka just a little too clumsily. Within the split second it took for Axonn to stop his axe’s momentum, Brutaka brought his hammer down on the conqueror’s back and a snapping noise could be heard. Axonn shouted, taken by surprise. Before Brutaka could follow up, Axonn stumbled backward. Brutaka was prepared to take advantage of this, only for the warlord to do something truly unexpected.

Axonn lowered his axe.

“You have ball joints, my friend,” the barraki smiled, cracking his back. “More than most. It’s been a while since I encountered anyone that could meet me in battle. So… convince me. Say what you came here to say, before we truly contest to see who is the mightier.”

Brutaka’s eyes narrowed, startled and alarmed. This was not at all what he’d been told to expect. The Conqueror, it had been said, was too far gone to be worth convincing. Was this a trick?

Or was it worth a shot?

Yes, he decided.

He lowered his hammer as well, and began solemnly. “You may remember once—”

“Oh, not here,” Axonn laughed, starting back up the mountain. “In the cave. We have a few jobs to do before nightfall.”

Now Brutaka looked even more perplexed. Nevertheless, he started after Axonn.

“Jobs? What kind of jobs?” he asked suspiciously.

“Your task will be to clean up your rock mess and ready the traps for the next person who disturbs my rest,” Axonn smiled.

“What will you be doing?”

“Deciding if I should kill you once you’re done.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Nightfall found Brutaka leaning against the mouth of the cave, catching his breath. The daylight had faded, but the conqueror was still making him drag boulders up from the valley below to rebuild the stone trap. As he did, the warlord sat where he could watch the gold warrior at all times, even as he sharpened his axe.

Brutaka frowned. He was fairly confident he could defend himself or escape if he needed to. If things went really bad, he could certainly count on Hydraxon to come after him. But somehow he had a peculiar suspicion about this warlord.

Seeing Brutaka relaxing, Axonn looked up.

“Didn’t say you could take a break,” the conqueror murmured.

“Didn’t say I couldn’t either,” Brutaka retorted.

Axonn’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he simply resumed grinding at his axe.

Brutaka turned and slumped against the cave entrance. Much deeper in the cave, protected by various mechanisms and tripwires, was a cache of Axonn’s weapons. Placed square at the center of this collection as if to taunt Brutaka, was his own black warhammer.

He looked again at the warlord.

“For a creature with only two arms, you’ve sure got a lot of weapons,” he remarked.

“Yes.”

“Did you make them yourself? Or earn them in combat?”

“Made some. Earned others.”

“Any good stories behind any of them?”

“Nope.”

Brutaka frowned and stared at the conqueror. Clearly he would have to try something else. But what?

“Why are you doing it?” he blurted out finally. “Why are you conquering all these lands?”

The silver-armored warrior shrugged.

“Glory. Power. Wealth. The opportunity to lay waste to civilizations and grind my opponents to dust beneath my heel. And because I can.”

“I don’t believe you.”

This got Axonn’s attention. He looked up.

“Oh?” he snorted. “Why’s that?”

“I’m good at reading people.”

“And what exactly do you read?”

Brutaka inhaled slowly. Here went nothing.

“Your heart isn’t in it,” he guessed. “Probably you’re disillusioned. I… I’m not sure what motivated you to start this, but you’re beginning to doubt yourself… And this isn’t the first time. Now you’re holding on to your current course in the hopes you’ll find what you were originally looking for, but you grow increasingly doubtful.”

Axonn’s head lowered, casting a shadow across his eyes. “And the all-seeing eye of Brutaka sees this how?”

A flash of triumph lit briefly through Brutaka’s head. His gamble had paid off. Now he just had to stick the landing. He breathed deeply, continuing.

“I was once the same way.”

Far below the cave, the chirping of Kirikori Nui rang out into the night, somehow more noticeable than before. Brutaka’s eyes attempted to penetrate the shadows lining the conqueror’s Rode, attempting to discern truth. The conqueror’s face held its disinterest, but it had tilted slightly. This was going nothing like the original plan, but Brutaka had smelled opportunity and now he was too far along to go back.

He continued. “I was once part of an organization too,” he said. “Far north of here, a group of scientists and warriors called the Brotherhood of Makuta. I was brought in as a lieutenant. I loved it at first… but then I grew to hate it.”

“What made you hate it?”

Brutaka shrugged. “Too strict. Too… regimented, I guess. Not satisfying. Also… no one can say they aren’t devoted to Mata Nui or anything, but something about them… felt off. Some of them acted superior to everyone else, and some didn’t respect us servants. Doesn’t invite loyalty, does it?”

The conqueror nodded slowly, but he said nothing. An all-engulfing silence thick with memory and emotion permeated the lair. The Kirikori Nui, oblivious to this, were making no secret of their presence.

Finally Axonn spoke.

“Your guesses were very close to the mark,” he said carefully. “The organization I served operated far and wide. The Hand of Artakha. For a time it united the world and served the Great Spirit. For many years, their intentions were noble and their actions just. But… long after its founding, cultural and civil renaissances took place, and civilization came into its own. The dark ages were concluded.”

Axonn inhaled deeply. “When this happened, the Hand was left behind. Many of its members had grown haughty and overbearing toward those it was supposed to protect. Many caused more problems than they solved. When its leaders tried to reform it for the new age, they were divided on how it should be reformed, and most members resisted what changes they did enact. Seeing just how pathetic the group had become, I felt directionless. Lost. And it soon collapsed.”

The conqueror looked at Brutaka. “But now there’s nothing. No organization that enforces the will of Mata Nui. No uniting power in the universe. I set out to fix that by might and by axe. Unite the world, integrate it, and modernize it in the name of Mata Nui. If I don’t do it, someone else will rise to fill the power gap—perhaps one with truly malevolent designs.”

“A noble endeavor,” Brutaka observed.

Axonn heaved a sigh. “But as you say, I am realizing the pitfalls of such an endeavor. Firstly, one conqueror could not possibly hope to conquer the whole of the universe; one would need a team of conquerors to have a hope of succeeding. Secondly, as I campaign, I feel certain that I am losing sight of my original purpose. I am caught up in the bureaucracy and politics of fools who insist on infighting rather than realizing the unity of the Great Spirit.”

“Have you ever considered simply quitting?”

Axonn laughed hollowly. “After everything, give up?”

He hesitated.

“Well, I can’t say I especially have interest in continuing an empty cause,” he added. “But what would become of my kingdom?”

He gestured to the valley below the cave, which was now illuminated only by starlight. “Take these people, for example. No island I have ever conquered has needed a guiding hand more than these—a tribal realm that has in-fought for as long as they have existed.”

Axonn pointed to the largest of the walled villages that, unlike those surrounding it, appeared to be more like a city.

“That city below is ruled by the chieftain named Dirmack. He is a prime example of the bureaucratic foolishness that plagues the island. He rules over the smallest population, but his warriors are powerful, and they have staked out the greatest number of resources. The other villages have sought to work with him and to unite under him, but because they have far fewer trade goods to bring to the table, Dirmack refuses to let them participate in his wealth. Instead, he leaves them to fight among themselves for whatever resources remain.”

“What an unpleasant individual.”

“He is conceited and vain. In conquering this land, I would have united them under myself and the Great Spirit. They would have been brought together in unity. If I were to quit, what would become of them then? And what power could possibly fill the role that I am abandoning?”

Brutaka considered this. Was now the time for truth? After everything this conqueror had said, in full honesty, could Brutaka now afford to be honest? Would he have interest in joining the Hand’s true successor organization? How would the Order respond to Brutaka’s attempt at recruitment? Would Axonn react bitterly at learning that the Hand had reformed in this way and left him behind? And how much could he disclose about the secret organization before it was no longer secret?

He took a sharp breath. Realized it wasn’t worth the risk.

Yet he didn’t quite expect what he said next.

✴        ✴        ✴

“You promised him what?!”

Brutaka shifted on his feet. Hydraxon’s reaction wasn’t unexpected. The two had made their camp in a forest to the south of Axonn’s mountain where Hydraxon now paced.

“How do you expect to have the island united in a day?”

“I don’t know,” Brutaka shrugged. “But if we can pull it off, the Conqueror will agree to end his conquests. Perhaps he can even come work for us.”

“Brutaka,” Hydraxon sighed. “This island has been splintered in tribal factions since it came into being. Now you think you’ll fix that and unite them in a matter of hours—all while keeping the existence of the Order secret.”

“I can figure it out,” Brutaka replied—not that he had the faintest idea where to begin. “But as both a handler and trainer, you have the authority to recruit new agents, don’t you? Couldn’t you just recruit him?”

Hydraxon stared intently at the agent, who met his gaze and held it.

“I should not tell you this,” the handler said slowly, “But the reason I have been sent on this mission is because the Order is gravely concerned about this individual, and not without reason. This Axonn—”

“He told me he served in the Hand—”

“He quit the Hand. He wasn’t even there when it was broken up. He gave up long before, and so Helryx never even considered asking him back for the Order. Now, agent, we see where his heart truly was all along. The whole reason they wanted me here for this was so I could take him with me to the Pit. But Helryx expects that to be an impossible task. You’re here in case we have to terminate him.”

Brutaka’s eyes were wide.

“I… wish I’d known that before,” he shook his head.

“You should have followed the orders you’d been given,” Hydraxon responded tersely. “Sometimes, Brutaka, I think you are too opportunistic for your own good. The Order does not trust Axonn. He failed the Hand before, and now he has taken it upon himself to follow a path of conquest—all based on some heretical dogma claiming that Mata Nui has preordained him to rule. One way or another, he must be subdued.”

“I’ve talked to him,” frowned Brutaka. “There’s more to this than the Order realizes, and I think I can get this right.”

“I hope you can,” Hydraxon replied. “Because if you can’t, it’s your mask on the line.”