No one had spoken a word since they had entered the Black Water. Defilak piloted the craft with a grim focus, navigation being even more of a challenge as the darkness around them only let the light illuminate about a half a bio ahead of them. It unnerved Dekar like nothing else, as he prefered to know what he was getting himself into.

They had been in a constant descent for what had to be at least an hour but had found nothing but jagged walls and sickly black water. He was on the verge of calling off the mission, he felt closed in, claustrophobic in the cramped interior of the submersible. He wanted out.

Sarda's words cut him off before he could give the order. "What are we supposed to be seeing?"

Defilak did not bother to look back at him to answer. "How am I supposed to know?" he snapped back irritably. "I've never been down here before either."

"I thought you were supposed to be our tour guide."

"No. I'm here to pilot-drive my ship. No more, no less."

Sarda's mouth opened, and Dekar knew he had to intervene. Being cooped up in this submersible for so long, with absolutely nothing to show for it had taken a toll on them all. He should've known Sarda would crack first, the Ta-Matoran had always been impatient and bad at handling stress.

"Shut it, both of you," he ordered, wincing at his own tone. By intervening he was more likely to worsen the situation, but he had to try before Sarda murdered the only one who could pilot them home. "There's no call for this kind of petty arguing. I'm just as frustrated as you are, but yelling at each other won't do anything to help."

He quickly shot a glance at Feton, looking for some form of support from the Fe-Matoran. But he remained silent, watching the scene indifferently for his side of the craft. "We need to stay focused on our objective. The fate of our world could be at stake right now, and no matter how crappy it is, it's all we've got."

He stared intensely at the pair of them, hoping they would get the message. They could not afford to be fighting amongst themselves down here.

Sarda simply scowled in response, but sat back in his seat obediently. Defilak simply shut up, wise enough to know when silence was necessary, a trait that Dekar had found most Le-Matoran lacked.

He turned back to the viewport, staring out at the inky blackness, wishing for what had to be the umpteenth time that it was clearer. He hated going in blind, and this mission was blind enough as it was. If he was honest with himself, he was waiting for something to happen, waiting for a squid to dare and attack them so he could vent his frustrations on it.

"There's something out there," said a voice from behind him.

Dekar jumped to his feet, hitting his head on the low roof. Wincing in pain, his hand went to the electro-blade on his belt. The Fe-Matoran had not spoken the entire trip; he had assumed it had something to do with nerves. But their was no fear in Feton's voice as he announced the presence of something else in the water. No, the Matoran's Kanohi Ruru was pressed against the small, circular viewport without any indication of fear.

Dekar walked over to the orange-clad inventor, who moved over to make room for him. The Po-Matoran squinted as he peered through the glass, seeking to reaffirm what he was seeing. How could it be, this deep and far away from air? It just wasn't possible.

He muttered a colorful vulgarity under his breath as he realized it was indeed possible, and that his mission had just become a hell of a lot harder.

There was a Toa floating out in the depths of the Black Water.

Lemiddus stared blankly out at the vast expanse of water that was the Voya Nui bay. He had just been released from Kiara's hut by its owner an hour ago, after he woke the irritable Ce-Matoran from her slumber with his restless pacing. He was glad to be free of the rank structure, though it had required an excessive amount of persuasion to convince Idris, Dekar's second in command, that he was fit for duty. Once he had done so, she had placed him out here on the very edge of what little civilization they had, though he suspected that she had done it simply to get him out of the way.

In reality he felt Hydruka scat. His limbs were weak, his balance off-kilter and vision fuzzy. But he was not in the mood to sit around and wait for himself to heal. He had spent all of yesterday blaming himself for what had happened to Kyrehx, and he had resolved that he would do everything in his power to keep it from happening to anyone else. And so here he was, just inside the air dome as he kept watch over the village of Mahri Nui.

He wasn't sure if Kyrehx would find it ironic or sickening that he was early for duty instead of late the morning after the attack. It had been his tardiness for duty that had sent her into her comatose state, and he knew he would never forgive himself if she never recovered, or worse, died. But he had no idea if she would forgive him for it, if and when she woke. He clung to the hope that he would be able to redeem himself, if not to Kyrehx then at least to himself.

Out here on the fringes of Mahri Nui he wasn't doing much in that respect. But it still felt good to be up and doing something after spending all of yesterday cooped up in Kiara's hut. He had never felt more useless in his life then he had there.

The ocean in front of him was dead, as it always was. Nothing stirred, the airweed the only sign of life and movement. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed a Onu-Matoran leading the Hydruka out to the fields to begin their daily harvest. Lemiddus waved to the Matoran, most likely the usual keeper Reysa, the resident rahi expert in Mahri Nui. He appeared to nod back in Lemiddus' direction, a tad unusual as Reysa had always been a light hearted and friendly fellow. But the entire village had been in a rather gloomy state since Kyrehx had fallen, so Lemiddus paid the lack of enthusiasm no mind.

No sooner had he returned his gaze to the sea something else caught his eye, a yellow-gold colored object floating down from the surface. He cocked his head in confusion, staring at the rapidly sinking object as he tried to discern its shape. The monthly gifts from the surface had already been received, the next ones weren't due for weeks. So why was there something floating down towards the Black Water?

Then the object passed through a sunbeam, and Lemiddus finally determined what it was: a Kanohi mask.

If Lemiddus had been wondering if he should retrieve the object, all doubts were now gone from his head. Kanohi were more valuable than gold in Mahri Nui. If a Matoran's mask cracked, they had no ready way to construct a replacement in time. Raw materials such as protodermis were in short supply and used for other things, and the few Kanoka disks they had were used to arm the Guard. Any spare Kanohi could be a lifesaver for a Matoran, and Lemiddus intended to be sure that this one would be put to good use.

He threw himself out into the water for the second time in two days. The cold closed around him, but he forged ahead. Cutting through the dank waters, he kept his eyes focused on the mask. It had nearly reached the edge now, dangerously close to vanishing into the darkness. Lemiddus strained, kicking fiercely in an attempt to reach it.

The mask disappeared into the darkness. A second later Lemiddus' hand followed it in.

The Fa-Matoran's hand closed around something cold, like metal. He pulled. It wouldn't come free.

He rooted himself on the edge of the abyss, planting his feet firmly on the sea floor. The object in his hand refused to come free, and he continued to pull at it. He felt his arms begin to tire, already weakened from his mad dash through the depths of the bay. Then what he prayed was the mask came loose.

Lemiddus fell backwards, the mask slipping out of his hands and flying back behind him, where it floated onto the sea floor behind him.

He scrambled to his feet and over to the mask. One look was enough to tell him that this was no ordinary Kanohi. The material from which it was made let off a faint golden glow, and he could feel it's power in the water around him. Tentatively, he reached down and touched it. Nothing happened.

He smiled and plucked the mask from the sand. He'd keep it in his pack for the rest of his watch, then turn it over to Idris to take care of. She'd put it in the right place until it was ready for use.

Turning, he swam gently back towards the dome, his thoughts considerably brighter. The Fa-Matoran had finally done something right.

So absorbed was he in his optimism that he didn't notice the strange, blue and yellow lights flashing from where the mask had just been. Nor did he notice the monster that emerged from them.

"What in Karzahni is he doing out there?" Sarda asked.

Defilak shrugged. He had been on the verge of asking the same question himself. What was this white-armored warrior doing down in the Black Water. Nothing was down there but monsters, nothing that would pose a threat to any village besides Mahri Nui, and everyone thought they were dead. There was no reason for a Toa to be here.

Right?

"Defilak," Dekar called from the viewport, never taking his eyes of the Toa, "is there an airlock on this thing?"

The Le-Matoran winced. "Not quite-exactly," he answered. "But the floor hatch-door will work just as fine, as long as the ship-craft remains stable. Water won't move up through it, because the air has nowhere else to go. Like the pool in my workshop."

Dekar nodded. "Good. Even if he's dead, it would be disrespectful to leave his corpse floating out there. Let's get him."

Defilak leveled the submersible and activated his automatic stabilizers. Dekar and Sarda had already opened the hatch and were staring into the black water. It sloshed around, retaining its color even when it splashed onto the silver floor.

Sarda uttered a colorful oath under his breath. "That stuff is nasty."

Dekar shrugged, then prepared to dive in.

"Hey," Defilak interrupted, stopping Dekar just before he dived. The Le-Matoran held out a pair of small air canisters with a breather connected by a cord. "The pressure's probably too strong-heavy for our air bubbles. These'll help."

Dekar nodded, taking the two devices and passing one to Sarda before realizing that Defilak has a third strapped to his back and was placing the breather over his mouth. "No, you can't come," he said. "You need to be in here to keep the ship steady."

Defilak pulled the breather away from his face so his words could be understood. "No, I'm coming," he said flatly. "Feton can handle things if the craft-ship destabilizes. This is my mission-quest as much as yours, and it looks like it'll take more than two to haul that Toa-Hero in."

The Po-Matoran scowled but made no further protest. "At the first sign of trouble I want you back inside the sub, understood?"

Defilak nodded. He knew better than to push his luck any farther. Dekar fixed the canister of air onto his back and dove into the murky blackness. Sarda followed.

The Le-Matoran stood alone in the belly of the submersible, staring at the water where the two Matoran had just vanished. It felt like the Black Water had just swallowed them whole, without a trace.

"Having second thoughts?" Feton called from the front.

"No," Defilak said, "I had those before we left."

He replaced the breather in his mouth and dove in after the others.

The cold water wrapped around him like a blanket of snow, sending shivers all along his body. The water was just as dark out here as it was through the viewports, and the small lightstone he drew from his pack did little to illuminate his surroundings. He suddenly felt lonely, cut off from the world. Like he would never see light again.

Then two little tiny spots of light caught in his peripheral vision. Sarda and Dekar, over to his right. Obviously with lightstones of their own. He began to swim towards them, focusing on the two spots of light. For a few tense seconds it looked like he wasn't making any progress. Then his two companions suddenly materialized beside him.

They were treading water on either side of the Toa, each holding an arm and trying to drag him back towards the sub, which Feton had turned so that the lights were directed towards them. Dekar made a frantic gesture towards the Toa's legs, and Defilak nodded his understanding. He grabbed the massive warrior's legs and began to help drag him through the water.

Now that the Le-Matoran had arrived progress seemed to come more quickly. The lights of the sub grew steadily closer and brighter, enough so that Defilak could see the Toa more clearly. He gasped. The Toa was changing, mutating in their hands. His organic tissue fluctuated, growing, his mechanical components rusting and falling away. He must have swallowed some of the mutagenic water.

Defilak waved frantically at Dekar and Sarda, hoping to catch their attention. When the two Matoran cast him odd looks, he pointed at the Toa's rapidly altering body. Dekar's eyes grew wide, and he looked back at Defilak for help. The Le-Matoran tapped his breather, and pointed at the Toa's half-open mouth. Dekar nodded, gingerly removing his own breather and slipping it into the Toa's. The convulsing slowed, but did not stop. There was still water in the Toa's system.

They were under the sub now, the cockpit's light shining down on them through the hatch. Defilak swam underneath the Toa and began to push him up into the craft. Dekar and Sarda lifted from their end, and he thought he could see Feton pulling from within. With great effort the four got the Toa inside, then climbed wearily onto the deck.

Dekar took in a long breath and pulled the breather from the Toa's mouth. The white-clad figure barely fit inside the craft, and his bulk forced Sarda to slip his legs back into the water while they examine him.

"Mata Nui, he's still breathing," the Ta-Matoran muttered under his breath.

Dekar placed his hands on the Toa's stomach and began to pump the water out of his system. The warrior coughed, spewing black water all over his saviors. Then the convulsions stopped. The cabin went silent.

Feton was the first to speak. "What now?"

He had point. They had just saved the life of a being twice their size and brought him into their craft. Their oxygen would deplete itself considerably faster with him onboard, and he took up a large amount of the space in the cabin. The time they could spend down here had been cut in half, and their options down to a third.

"We head back," Dekar replied, his tone defeated. "We can't stay down here much longer with him onboard, and we can't just leave him down here to whatever fate awaits him. We take the Toa back and proceed from there."

Defilak nodded his agreement, happy to be done with the dark murky waters of the Abyss. It was eerie, unnatural down here; it set him on edge. The Black Water made the lifeless waters of the bay look cozy.

The Le-Matoran pulled the air canister from his back and tossed it to the side then turned towards the front of the cabin. "Sarda, close the-"

A scream of terror slammed into Defilak's eardrums, interrupting him mid-sentence. He spun, just in time to see the Ta-Matoran disappear into the water. As soon as his face submerged the scream cut off abruptly, leaving a strong ringing in the other three's ears.

"SARDA!" Dekar yelled, throwing his arms into the blackness, fishing for the Matoran's body. Defilak vaulted over the Toa's unconscious form and grabbed Dekar, pulling him away from the hatch. The Po-Matoran strained against him, trying to dive into the water after Sarda.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dekar growled.

"I'm saving your life," Defilak replied. "Something grab-snatched Sarda; diving in will likely result in your own demise."

"But he could still be alive!"

"Or he could be half way inside of a Takea Shark."

Silence. Then bubbles in the water. Sarda's scarlet Kanohi Huna appeared in the jet-black water. There was no face beneath it.

Dekar surged against Defilak's hold, and this time the Le-Matoran obliged him. Dekar fell to his knees beside the hatch, lifting the Huna from the water. He stared at it, not saying anything. Defilak worried he might stay there forever if nobody did anything.

"We have to leave-go," he said.

Dekar nodded, closing the hatch and holding the Huna close to his chest. "Fine. Let's get out of this hellhole."

As soon as the words left his mouth the entire submersible shook. Defilak was thrown to the floor as they began to roll onto their side. "Feton! What in blazes was that?"

The Fe-Matoran had somehow managed to stay in his seat and was now struggling with the controls, trying to stabilize them. "My best guess would be that whatever got Sarda decided it liked the taste of Matoran," he said bluntly.

Defilak grunted in response as he lifted himself to his feet. Feton's reasoning was sound, though that didn't make the situation any less grim. "Take the other chair-seat," he said as he reached the front of the cabin. "I'll pilot-drive us out."

For once Feton did not reply with a snide remark or sarcastic insult, simply moving out of the chair into the one next to it. Defilak dropped onto the cold steel and found in was nice to be sitting normally again.

"Strap in," he called back. "This could be a rough ride."