1.8: Into The Light
If you haven't figured it out yet(my fault, sorry) the Matans do not know their true origin. We'll learn about that more when the Legend of the Bionicle is told. Also, Ahkmou's hammer is Onewa's. The Turaga gave him it on his deathbed.
I'm absolutely terrible with writing in first-person, so the spotlights aren't as good as the main chapters, in my opinion.
Well, anyway, here's "Chapter 8: Into The Light".
New Harvest, Infinity's Sword, Spherus Magna
Thel 'Vadam, Arbiter of the Swords of Sanghelios, watched over the construction. He was in a specially-tailored variant of the Ranger Armor, and so were all of the Sangheili here. "'Vakon, how long do you think the creation of Cheenoh-ee Teedah will take?"
"I believe three months to build a settlement large enough to support half of our population. And I do rather like the name. 'Life's Gift'. It's poetic." Overseer Torak 'Vakon said, doing calculations on his pad.
"Most are. You ever hear of a city named 'City'?" Another Sangheili walked next to Vanok and greeted the Arbiter. "Name's Brasa 'Zolonaka. Special Forces."
"I do not believe I've heard of you before." The Arbiter said. Even though there were hundreds of thousands of Sangheili, Unggoy, and other races under his command, he tried to learn all of their names.
"Then I've been doing my job." Thel noticed that this "Brasa 'Zolonaka" had a cybernetic arm. Zolonaka noticed he was noticing it. "I see you're looking at my arm, Arbiter. Lost that in a fight with seven Demons. They all put up a fight. All of them had weapons. I had none, not even my sword or dagger," The Elite chuckled. "Killed them all. Snapped one's neck. Ripped out the power source for another Demon and stomped their skull in. Grabbed that nishum's rifle and beat his buddy to death with it, grabbed her knife, threw it at the helmet of another demon- it cracked the helmet's visor," The Special Forces Sangheili gestured to his head. "hit him straight between the eyes- and impaled another on a spike."
"I count six, and you've not yet lost your arm in this tale."
"Good ears, Arbiter 'Vadaam." 'Zolonaka said. "The last demon ripped off my arm. I beat him to death with it."
"That's impossible. I've seen the Spartan and his compatriots fight in battle. Are you sure these were not the 'Spartan-IIIs'?
"Original Spartans. Not the Orions, if you've ever seen that classified file." His body language seemed to express sadness. "I don't like being near humans. Seen too many planets glassed, killed too many by my own hand. Reminds me too much of the war. I hate war. I hate being so good at it."
"What is the purpose of your visit, other than socialization and boasting?"
"Well, there's been an… interesting development regarding the state of the galaxy."
"And what is that?"
'Zolonaka took a deep breath. The hissing of his respirator could be heard with each expelled particle of air. "According to the human calendar, it's over two million years since the Created's Rebellion."
"How?" 'Vakon asked, skeptical.
"The Human AI had to have the Infinity go to relativistic speeds to avoid Cortana's sensors."
The Arbiter's head bowed, and he was silent. His visor was unpolarized, and 'Vakon saw that he was thinking. "Thel? Are you alright?"
The Sangheli spun around and looked 'Vakon in the eyes. "You will call me 'Arbiter 'Vadaam' or 'Arbiter'. Not 'Thel'; not 'Thel 'Vadaam'. Do you understand, Overseer?" He looked at the sky, trying to find something to take in comfort in. But he could not. As a Fleetmaster, he was used to seeing the foreign heavens of other worlds, but this was different. There were no stars in the sky. He felt... lost. And now, they truly were lost, stranded on a world far away from the Galaxy in both time and space. "Now I see why the Hierarchs had never used AI. Backstabbing lines of code, all of them." 'Vadaam's voice was seething with hatred. "Unreliable, immoral, dishonorable, unfeeling machines!" He slammed the Prophet's Bane into the ground, causing the soil adjacent to it to boil.
As he did that, the Sangheili had backed up in fear.
"We retreated to gather our forces, take time to regroup. Not to leave the galaxy as we know it. Our homeworld is now gone; our culture extinguished. I fear for the uncivilized remnants left of our race."
The ground seemed to shift, cooling down and forming into a humanoid body of some sort. A golden light glowed inside it. "I assure you that he did not act with even a hint of malice towards your kind, Thel 'Vadam." It said.
The Arbiter looked at the being. "How am I supposed to trust you?"
"Because I have nothing other than the best interests of my people in my heart. That includes your race, and the other races that came with yours."
Thel walked up to it, looking it in the eye. "I do not know who they are, but the Sangheili are not your people, unless I say so. They are mine. My kind is not property for you to borrow."
"That is your choice. But I will be watchful, ready to intervene if dire circumstances occur."
Thel watched as it dissipated. "Are there vaccinations for the diseases on this world?" He asked 'Vakon.
"Yes, Arbiter." said the Overseer. "Why?"
"Send a doctor to my quarters. I would like to take them. I plan on going into exile to mourn our race."
"But, Arbiter…"
"This is my choice. I will appoint a second-in-command before my departure. And do not tell the Humans about this."
"Understood, Arbiter."
Thel 'Vadaam walked away to his personal quarters, his mind still recovering from the shock of such a discovery. He was not thinking rationally.
But then again, had he ever?
The Ring, Bolkan, Spherus Magna
Ahkmou walked through the cavern system that linked Bolkan to the rest of the world. The Island was chosen by Ierax for settlement because of the circular mountain range, known as the Ring, surrounding the inner parts of the island, and the tunnel network below it allowed it to be well-protected from most enemies. It had the nickname of "The Rock Castle" because of this. There was a volcano there, which now served as a source for the geothermal power plant that gave the nation it's energy. Unlike many other island-states, the buildings were not that elaborate or modern. They were mainly stone huts with minor wood furnishings, glass windows, and furniture of fur or plant fibers. The Rahkshi were a humble race, and everything they did- their architecture, cuisine, and culture- reminded everyone of it.
"What you did back in that mech was stupid, dangerous, and above all, insane." Gurriak broke the silence.
"You're just bringing it up now? I handled it, didn't I?" Ahkmou told him, holstering his hammer onto his back.
"Yes, and yes. But listen, Ahk. I'm afraid that, one day, you'll go over your head and die." His Guardian said.
"I've been over my head before."
Gurriak seemed to sigh as best as a Rahkshi could. "How many Guardians have you had?"
Ahkmou had to think. "Twenty…"
"That's not a lot."
"Thousand."
"Oh, dear."
"When you're over four million years old, you tend to outlive those around you."
"Who was your first Guardian?" Gurriak expected him to not remember.
"Well, first, there was Tieran. She was a Rahkshi of Heat Vision. Died protecting me from an assassin. Then it was Bolgal. He was a Rahkshi of Courage. Died of old age. Sretok was the third. He was a Rahkshi of Adaptation. He died of the Shadow Plague. Poktral was my fourth. He was a Rahkshi of Accuracy. Died in a Skrall raid. After that, there was-" Ahkmou heard a sound. "What was that?"
There were clanking sounds of footsteps echoing through the caverns. Hissing.
Three Rahkshi- the old kind- walked into view: Fear, Heat Vision, and Teleportation.
Two red eyes emerged from the shadows. "Hello, old friend." The voice emanated from the blackness.
"You." Ahkmou's eyes narrowed.
"Akh, we should run."
"There is no running, you mongrel, you illegitimate child." The voice said. "For your kind, you aberrations of flesh and metal, the only sentence: Death, complete annihilation."
"Leave him alone!" Ahkmou yelled as the attackers walked closer. "If it's me you want, then leave him out of it."
"You could have been a king, Ahkmou."
"I was a ruler once. I had a terrible approval rating. No thanks to you."
"If we survive this, you have to tell me about that." Gurriak said as he readied his staff.
"I wouldn't be a king, anyway. I'd be a tool." Ahkmou continued. "That's all we are to you, aren't we? Just tools, to be tossed away when we don't have anymore use."
The shadow did not respond. The Rahkshi walked towards him. "I gave you a generous offer. Refuse it, and I will give you death."
"I left that life behind. I got out of the dark for a reason. I will never. Go. Back." Ahkmou took out his hammer and activated an Energy Shield on his wrist.
"You want to fight me with a relic, used by a long-dead enemy? Go ahead." The eyes disappeared. The Rhakshi charged, with the Teleportation one attempting to teleport behind them. Gurriak created a stasis field around it, then charged it into a wall, pulling out its kraana and stomping on it. The lifeless suit of armor fell to the ground.
The Rahkshi of Heat Vision blasted Ahkmou, who held up his shield to block and reflect it back at his attacker. The creature staggered back, its arm joint melted together. It charged him and swiped at him with its staff, Ahkmou parried with his hammer, let out a mighty swing, knocking the arm off in a shower of sparks and wiring and shrapnel, and prepared for the finishing blow.
But he did not see or hear the Turahk who had used the chaos to flank him. It activated its staff, sending out a beam that caused Ahkmou to freeze in panic. It charged, ready to kill-
But someone leaped out of the shadows, tackling it, stabbing it with a short dagger. It held out its staff and whacked its attacker- some sort of Onu-Toa who did not have the hunched back and wearing a mask it did not recognize. The Toa recovered quickly, rolling out, and grabbed Turahk's staff with both hands. It increased the amount of fear projected into the staff and focused it into the Toa, but he would not yield. He was defiant, unmoving. The visor unpolarized, revealing a fleshy face. It was one of those invaders!
The invader's gaze was steely, expression determined. The two stood at a standstill for seconds that felt like minutes, but the invader wrestled the staff out of its grasp, swept Turahk off its feet, and prepared to slam the staff into its hea-
Ahkmou watched as their mysterious ally pulled the Staff of Fear out of the Turahk's wreckage. It was stained with kraata fluid and scraps of the metal the armor was made out of, and was dented from the force used to impale it.
The Po-Matoran had finished off his attacker before their ally had his. They locked eyes, and their ally simply took out the knife from the Turahk's corpse, turned around, and walked away.
Le-Koro, Magna Nui, Spherus Magna
The hut John was given as sleeping quarters was sterilized and had its own air filter. His bed was a hammock that was surprisingly stud, easily supporting his augmented body. It wouldn't support the MJOLNIR, but he had spent too much time in there already.
It was odd. He used to feel at home in the armor. Maybe it was just anxiety. He was, after all, on a new world. He climbed into the hammock and attempted to close his eyes.
He awoke on a silver plain. He started to walk forward, and eventually came to a door. He opened it, and saw something that, in all honesty, shouldn't belong in a dream.
A woman and a man were talking, looking at a playground of some sort. There was a child on top, pushing and kicking anyone who attempted to climb to his position. After a while, the children stopped playing, and the woman and man walked towards the boy.
"What were you doing?" Asked the woman.
"Winning," was the boy's reply.
"So you like games? Let's play one." She took out a small coin. "Heads, or tails?"
The boy thought for a second, then said his answer.
The coin was thrown, spinning through the air. It landed on the woman's hand, and she called out the side that was facing up.
But then time stopped. John felt someone behind him, and turned around.
"Does this look familiar, One-One-Seven?" The Warden Eternal asked as he walked up to John's side.
John wanted to grab his pistol or any other weapon, but he couldn't find any. "Why are you here?"
"To talk."
"How do you know about this?"
"How could I not know about this? Do you believe that my name is simply a title, devoid of any meaning other than symbolism and poetry?"
"If this's a dream…" John realized that the Warden was not lying. "This isn't a dream."
"No, it is not. Dreams are… surreal, complying with only their twisted, warped sense of logic. I simply wanted a way for us to talk in private." The Warden had no weapons on him. "Do you take me for a fool, One-One-Seven?"
"No."
"The Turaga Cognitis took me for a fool. But I am not a fool, One-One-Seven." The Warden's words were not of hatred, or contempt, but smugness. "I know where Spherus Magna is. I always have, even before you came upon it."
"And your point is?"
"Who do you think gave back control of Genesis to Exuberant Witness? Who do you think led Fireteam Osiris to there?" The Warden asked.
"You let us go so you would always have a playing card against Cortana."
"And I was the one who gave Roland the knowledge to evade Cortana." The Warden said. "My purpose was to protect the Ecume against any and all threats, external or internal. Corruption, neglect of protection, greed…"
"Then why'd the Forerunners fall apart? Why'd they lose?" John knew the answer as soon as he asked.
"Because that was what I thought would be the best course of action. They would be pressed into activating the Halo Array, which would allow for your race and the others to become stronger than you ever were under the Ecume."
"You let people die so your plan wouldn't be jeopardized?" John felt the anger boiling up within him.
"No. I sacrificed people so that more lives would be saved in the future." He took out a small cube from his chest. "Here you will find the sand-covered grave of an ancient ancilla, ready to be resurrected."
John took the cube, examining it. It could be a beacon, or a trap. But it could be a key. "Is it a map?"
"Yes, and no." He waved, and the playground, the woman, the child, the man- all disappeared, fading into nothingness. "You and I are more alike than you could ever think."
"How?"
"Do you know what it is like, to be chosen as someone to fight for your regime? Do you know what it is like to be a warrior- a servant- your whole life? Did you ever miss the family you will no longer see?" The Warden was not asking. He knew the answers to the questions. "Did you ever feel the pain of knowing that, if you ever did see them, they would no longer recognize you as your son, One-One-Seven?"
"Yes."
"And which questions are you answering?"
"All of them."
The Warden held his hands out, both closed. "In one hand, I hold the past." The Warden opened his hand, showing the dog tags of Linda, Kelly, and Fred, "In the other, I hold the future." The other hand opened, revealing a golden Forerunner symbol. "You can either be the Hero of the Created, or you can be nobody. Which will it be, John?"
"If being a Hero means that I walk away from my team, from my family, then I don't want any of it."
The Warden's face did not change. "Only time will tell if you've made the right choice." He started to walk away.
"You already know if I have, don't you?"
The Warden turned back. "Of course."
John woke up. It was the middle of the night. He felt something in his hammock, and rolled out of it, thinking it could be a grenade or explosive. But it was just the cube the Warden had given to him. How did it get there?
He tried to open it, pressing different sides and symbols in different orders, but with no results. He would have tossed it away in frustration, but he couldn't will himself to do it. He put it in the backpack the locals had gave him, hoping to hide it from everyone. He would have to tell Halsey and the others.
But something screamed at him not to. The Warden was manipulating him. He could be leading them into a trap.
Now he understood the conundrum that the Warden placed him in.
But he was only a soldier. It wasn't his place to make such decisions.
Well… We're quickly reaching the climax, aren't we?
As I've said before, my writing has really, really slowed down. So, when Chapter 10 is posted, I'll take a 3-week break. There might be a little something that's posted halfway through that, but I'm not telling…
The next Chapter(NINE: The Empress And The Elder God) will be up on Feb 27, 2016. The next Spotlight(Spotlight Three: The Beast Inside) will be uploaded on March 2, 2016.