Chapter One

Hydraxon stood tall on the roof of the caravan, watching the sun break over the horizon as he traveled over the sands. He had chosen the first watch of the day, wanting to be alone with his thoughts, and to serve as a self imposed punishment for his failure.

When the Matoran Universe’s population had made its way to Spherus Magna, it was not only heroes that it took to the new world. The criminals, scum, and lowlife villains needed a place in the new home as well. The Toa were quick to organize a prison, and any captives that had previously been held in the Pit were transported there. Hydraxon, being the jailer of the Pit for centuries, naturally took command of the newly made prison, and was assigned a legion of Maxilos robots and Glatorian fighters to guard the prisoners.

He hadn’t expected anything to occur so soon. An unidentified fire Glatorian had staged a breakout, murdering many of the guards and escaping before anyone could be recaptured. Hydraxon had little memory of the night it had happened, his earliest recollection of the day being waking up stranded in the middle of the desert. By the time he had returned, he had been much too late.

While he didn’t know what had caused his lapse in memory, he blamed his own oversight for the mistake. He had grown careless, confused by the new world he found himself in, and it left him susceptible to attack. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Wasting no time, he was quick to move out, but he had been halted by Turaga Onewa, who requested he take along two treacherous Matoran to aid him. The jailer was hesitant, not wanting to take along additional baggage, but he knew arguing with a Turaga was useless. Whether the Turaga wanted to offer these Matoran a chance at redemption, or simply wanted to get rid of them, he did not know.

What he did know was that Matoran were very rarely taken as prisoners. It wasn’t often that he had to interact with them, but he knew well that the Matoran’s safety was the responsibility of all members of the Order. Begrudgingly, he agreed to the Turaga’s terms. Taking them, as well as the two remaining Maxilos guards, he departed into the desert, vowing to recapture the missing prisoners.

It was my error, he thought to himself as he watched the morning sky shift from orange to blue, I will correct it.

✴        ✴        ✴

Resting within the cylindrical cargo hold of the caravan, Ahkmou had almost drifted off to sleep before his dreams were interrupted. The hatch on the ceiling opened with a mechanical hiss, and the silver and black armored Hydraxon entered the hull of the vehicle.

“You’re up,” the jailer said, halfway between a question and a statement, “Good. Morning’s come, go wake her up.” After descending the final steps of the ladder, he made his way to the back wall of the vehicle, and placed a hand on the metal. With a slight push, the wall moved out of the way, revealing a stash of weapons mounted behind it. He retrieved a launcher, as well as a bag of Thornax fruit, and slung both over his shoulder.

Ahkmou sighed. “You know,” he spoke up, “we’ve just been sitting in here, twiddling our thumbs for days. I’d be more helpful if you’d let me in on the action.”

Hydraxon paused for a moment. “You’re lucky I let you come this far,” he said grimly, not turning to face Ahkmou. “It wasn’t my idea to take two Matoran along, much less traitors. You will provide me with information on any Makuta allies I capture, and that will be the extent of your contributions.”

“Come on, you know I can do more than that.”

“I do,” Hydraxon replied. “That’s why I’m keeping you here.”

Ahkmou frowned as Hydraxon exited the cabin.

“Well,” came Gavla’s voice from behind him, yawning as she awoke, “what did you expect? He made it clear from the get go. We’re not trustworthy, we’re a liability.”

The Po-Matoran turned. “Whatever,” he huffed, storming back to his seat. “Let’s just hope we can get home soon.”

Gavla smiled sadly. “Home,” was all she said.

✴        ✴        ✴

Once again on top of the transport, Hydraxon stood as the morning breeze passed by. Looking off into the distance, a spot had suddenly appeared on the horizon, one that he had not noticed before.

“This could be something,” the jailer said aloud. Walking forward, he made his way to the vehicle’s cockpit and knelt down. He leaned into the cockpit’s view, and peered next to the Maxilos robot piloting the vehicle.

“Maxilos,” he demanded, “what do you see up ahead?”

The drone was silent for a moment, seemingly unaffected by Hydraxon’s words. Then, at last, a robotic voice emanated from its speaker. “Prototype Vahki Transport class. Nynrah design. Armed. Two biomechs inside.”

Hydraxon took a moment to run through the information in his head, before he rose back to his feet. Sure enough, the spot on the horizon had grown closer, and he could begin to make out the legs of the transport. Like most of the vehicles in Metru Nui, the Vahki transports were equipped with mechanical legs for transportation. During the Great Cataclysm, as Hydraxon had later learned, the transports had been utilized to move the Matoran pods, in accordance with Makuta Teridax’s wishes.

What if I had been there? He found himself wondering. The Order of Mata Nui could have prevented the Great Cataclysm. But I did my duty in the Pit. When the quakes struck, I-

He paused, as if paralyzed.

I-

The vision came again.

He saw his own body, lifeless as it drifted to the depths.

I can’t-

He saw the Barraki Takadox standing over him, dagger in hand.

He saw the Mask of Life, the one bright spot in a sea of darkness.

It’s not-

He saw a Matoran, clinging to the mask for dear life as the Black Water consumed him.

I am-

And he saw himself, the jailer of the Pit, returned to his station to wage war on the Barraki.

His own thoughts interrupted, his head raced as he tried to make sense of the images that flashed before his mind’s eye. He tried to fight it back, reminding himself of the mission at hand, but a phrase kept echoing through his mind.

Who am I?

At that, he rose to his feet once more.

I am Hydraxon, he reminded himself, jailer of the Pit. I have been assigned to recapture these runners and return them to their cells.

As the vehicle drew ever closer, the Vahki transport came into clearer view. The jailer could now make out the turrets that had been added onto the hull. He didn’t know the intent of the transport’s pilot, but he knew it could be nothing good.

✴        ✴        ✴

Gavla and Ahkmou sat across from each other in bitter silence. Avoiding each other’s eye contact, they remained in their place as they had for days now, as the vehicle carried on through the desert.

Despite their shared status as traitors, they had not grown close together in the slightest. On the contrary, their time together had only made them realize how much they hated each other.

To Gavla, Ahkmou was a coward. Makuta had planted him as the “Turaga” of Metru Nui, but he was no leader. Watching the city from above, he was helpless to quell the Toa’s rebellion, and it baffled her that he was granted such a powerful position. She took it upon herself to show him how a true servant of the Makuta fought, and pledged herself to his side, on one condition: that he would return her to her former state, a Shadow Matoran. But Ahkmou had refused to fulfill his end of the bargain.

For Ahkmou’s part, his decision to force Gavla to remain an Av-Matoran was a purely tactical one. As an Av-Matoran, she would be able to disguise herself using light rays, an ability that she would lose upon turning back. Her personal feelings were irrelevant.

Now, with Makuta Teridax dead and the Matoran Universe destroyed, Ahkmou and Gavla found themselves with no one left to run to. As much as they each hated it, they were stuck with each other.

And so, they had nothing to say to each other as they waited in the empty cabin.

That was, until the cabin suddenly shook, jolting the two to the side. They both slammed into the wall in unison, as the vehicle straightened itself back out.

Ahkmou rubbed his mask and groaned. “What… what was that?”

✴        ✴        ✴

Hydraxon clutched onto the roof of the vehicle as a ball of fire suddenly shot past. The Maxilos pilot did its best to avoid the projectile fired from the nearby transport, and no damage had come to the vehicle.

The jailer glared at the Vahki transport once more, and watched as a figure emerged from the vehicle’s hatch, and hauled another explosive round into the launcher.

Not a runner I recognize, he thought to himself as he tried to discern the figure’s identity. He raised his Thornax blaster, but quickly put it back down. Not close enough.

“Bear left!” He shouted, and the Maxilos brought the caravan towards the left. As it began to move in a semi circle around the desert, Hydraxon watched patiently for the opponent’s next move.

The transport carried on, its clawed legs pulling it forward through the sand. After a moment, it swung wide to the left, eventually traveling in the same direction as Hydraxon's caravan.

Not great at turning quickly, he thought to himself. Time to exploit that.

Hydraxon stood tall, aiming his Thornax launcher at the Vahki transport. “Slow down,” he shouted to the Maxilos, and the caravan decreased in speed. Almost there, he said to himself, just a little closer.

As the enemy drew near, Hydraxon spotted an armored figure emerging from the cockpit, carrying a heavy looking blade in his right hand.

“Got you,” Hydraxon smirked, and fired the Thornax fruit at the exposed figure.

The fruit traveled through the air, shooting forward at blistering speed. As it neared its target, the figure wound back his blade and swung forward. With perfect timing, the blade struck the Thornax fruit.. It reversed its course, sailing back towards the caravan.

As Hydraxon watched, he had no time to react before the fruit struck the front of his vehicle and exploded in a ball of fire.

✴        ✴        ✴

“Don’t be an idiot,” Gavla snapped.

“Relax, I’m not,” Ahkmou shot back, taking another step on the ladder. “I’m just going to see what’s going on.”

“You’ll be killed.” As she spoke, her expression suddenly lightened. “Actually, please do go out there.”

Ahkmou rolled his eyes, and grabbed onto the next rung of the ladder. Suddenly, the vehicle shook violently, tumbling rapidly, and sending the two Matoran into a chaotic spiral. The Po-Matoran did his best to hold on, but his grip quickly loosened, and he collapsed to the shaking and tumbling floor.

✴        ✴        ✴

Hydraxon awoke, his vision blurred from the crash. A few feet away, he could see the downed caravan. The front had been caved in, and smoke and ash billowed out of the hatch. He dug his fingers into the sand, and attempted to pull himself forward. He needed to ensure the Matoran’s safety. They weren’t a responsibility he chose, but they were his responsibility all the same.

Before he had made any progress, he felt a metal boot stomp on his chest. Looking up, he came face to face with the pilot of the Vahki transport. The being was quite large, covered in many mismatched pieces of armor, and with a wide variety of weapons strapped to his back. A Kanoka disk launcher was mounted on his shoulder, aimed straight at Hydraxon’s head.

Just looking at the figure above him, Hydraxon knew how he would take him down. His opponent’s heavy armor would make him far too slow. He could use his speed to his advantage, flanking him with quick, light attacks, until he fell.

But Hydraxon had been taken off guard. With the enemy’s foot on his chest, he had nowhere to run.

“Who… who are you?” he managed to say.

The figure paused for a moment, then smiled. “Just a gatherer of lost things. And you, my friend, seem to be very, very lost.”

Frowning, Hydraxon prepared to strike, but stopped in his tracks. Beside the mysterious figure, a more familiar one approached, one he hadn’t seen in several millennia.

“You?!” he stammered, unsure of what to make of it.

“I take it you’ve already met Shadow Stealer,” Gatherer smirked, gesturing to his diminutive companion. “When he heard that you were on the prowl, he was eager to pursue.”

Hydraxon’s eyes remained fixed on Shadow Stealer. “We fought together once. You don’t need to do this.”

Shadow Stealer simply shrugged. “No. But I really want to.”

Before Hydraxon could think of a reply, Gatherer fired a Kanoka disk at him. His senses quickly gave way, and he could no longer feel his limbs. His mind screamed, begging himself to move, but to no avail. His thoughts blurred, losing their ability to distinguish thought from reality.

Within moments, he slipped away into unconsciousness.