Dislcaimer: I don't own BIONICLE, but I do own all the OCs here. Versuva and its inhabitants belong of ChickenBond2.
Chapter 10: Welcoming Committee
Moments after the last chapter…
Below the streets of Versuva…
The road down wasn't exactly a walk in the park, as one might expect. Then again, underground caverns rarely look like anything from the surface. Sogido guided the trio through the tunnels, lightstone in hand. While the Mersions had no trouble with the dark, almost everyone else does.
Tiruhk, being an Onu-Matoran, didn't have that much difficulty. However, he couldn't agree for his present company. Kenod kept casting glances everywhere, as if he expected someone to jump them. Jismal didn't seem to as concerned, though she did keep her spear close.
"Exactly how deep are we?" Asked the Bo-Matoran.
"Right now? Maybe half a Kio," Replied the Kiril bearer.
"And how much deeper does it go?"
"Hmm, maybe about five Kio,"
"Five!?"
Jismal was just as astonished as the tribal. She knew the Mersions were geniuses in a lot of fields, but this… she just couldn't believe it.
"Roughly around that," Admitted the Ko-Matoran. "Still, have to hand it to them. At this rate, we might as well be building spaceships in the next decade."
Jismal chucked at the remark. "At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised."
The party laughed at the remark. She had almost forgotten what laugher sounded like. Not the kind you'd hear from a psychopath, mind you. Genuine laugher, between friends having a good time. She wished that she'd hear such a sound more often, but she knew that it wasn't always welcome in this world.
The cart rocked, shaking her back into reality. She blinked, rubbing her crystalline eyes. For a brief second, though, she thought she was still lost in her thoughts. A quiet gasp from the sailors suggested otherwise.
Before them was an underground metropolis. Lights of various colors flickered behind massive windows. Buildings were being carved into the walls and ceiling, bearing shapes blurring between natural and artificial. Workers of various species moved about, with machines unlike anything else in this world.
Tiruhk whistled. "How're supposed to find Midekos in all of this?"
Sogido turned to the Onu-Matoran. "Midekos? That's who you're visiting?"
Something about how the Ko-Matoran said the sentence aloud caught Jismal's attention. "You know of him?" She inquired.
"'Course," Confirmed their guide. "He's been running an office done here. Been doing that ever since that accident."
"Accident?"
"Not really sure exactly what happen. Just somekinda big explosion, lotta people hurt."
"And where would his office be?"
"Right there," Pointed the Kiril-bearer, towards a building carved into the farthest wall.
Jismal smiled. "I think you know what to do."
The Ko-Matoran grinned, steering the Ussal crab toward their destination. If anyone on the cart turn looked back, though, they would've noticed three cloaked figures. Two of them were about four or five feet tall, with the remaining member around the height of a Toa. The short ones carried staffs, each different from the other. The hooded trio followed the cart, glowing eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Location: Metru Nui
Winter groaned as she awoke. Her vision was blurred, her ears ringing. She remembered sailing away in one of the Brotherhood's ships. The next thing anybody knew, some storm came out of nowhere and wiped out the entire fleet. She remembered clinging onto some debris, but everything after that was blank. She must've lost consciousness in the chaos.
But even in her condition, she knew that she wasn't in the Silver Sea anymore. She was laying on something made of stone, a bed perhaps. She could make out what appeared to be torches alongside one of the walls as well. Someone had rescued her.
And her saviors were coming this way. Footsteps echoed in the distance, bouncing off the walls of (From what she could tell) a narrow tunnel. Her vision and hearing cleared by that point, and she was in for a surprise. Her rescuers were short figures, bearing faces similar to those reptilian creatures. Behind them was a towering Cyclops, clan in orange-yellow armor.
One of them, a being in white, approached her. He made a series of strange noises, mainly clicks and whistles. She tilted her head, confused. One of the others, a blue-armored one, came forward. He -or rather she, given the tone of her voice- spoke in another dialect. This time, the girl could understand the words (partially).
"Are, you, alright?" The azure one asked slowly.
Winter paused. The language the being spoke in clearly wasn't English, yet somehow she understood it.
Another gift from our benefactor. She figured.
"Y-yeh-yes… I, am…" She replied in kind, though slowly. This was her first time speaking in this odd tongue. It would take some time for her to get adjusted to using it.
One of the others, a brown one, let out a short laugh at the first entity. He snarled something back at the third, and the two quickly got into an alien argument. A short, crimson-colored being got between the two, speaking with the strange words as well. Judging from the tone he used, he must've been the leader.
"You don't speak this language often, do you?" Asked the one in emerald, using some more complicated words.
The human only shook her head. He let a short "Hmm", placing a hand on his chin.
"You don't look like any being that we've ever seen before," The speaker remarked. "Let me guess; Roodaka used you as target practice and casted you aside once she got bored." H514 could sense a trace of venom at the word "Roodaka".
She tilted her head again. "Roodaka?" She asked.
An ebony-armored being stepped forward. "Not familiar with the name? I'm not surprised. She's a Vortixx that disappeared a while back. The Brotherhood of Makuta and Dark Hunters have been hunting her after she played with both sides."
Winter held up her hands. "Hold up. Vortixx, Dark Hunters, Brotherhood? Who the hell are they?"
Both of the short ones turned towards each other, each bearing a look that practically said "WTF?"
"Has this… thing been sleeping under a rock or something?" Wondered the green one.
She swallowed. Should she tell them? "…in a manner of speaking." She replied meekly.
The leader and the titan began conversing with each other, the latter speaking in an even stranger tongue. The others were listening to them, as if they were in a trance. When they were through, everyone turned back to her.
"Whatever you are, you're no friend of the Brotherhood. That much we could tell from your escape," Said the red one.
So they did rescue me. She thought.
"You were a prisoner of theirs, were you not?"
She nodded.
"And you never heard of the Dark Hunters?"
"Nope. They somekinda cult?"
"Not really," Said the brown one. "Just a group of mercenaries and bounty hunters. They have a thing for theft, murder, and the like if it pays."
Winter gulped. Already, she wasn't liking them.
"So… what're you then?" She asked. "If you're not with the Brotherhood, Roodaka, or Dark Hunters, then who are you?"
The six turned to gaze at one another, then back toward her. "We're… kind of a band of misfits," Said the emerald one.
"Most people know us as 'Rahaga' these days," the blue one added. "As for the meaning of the word, we'd rather not get into the details. And I presume that you feel the same?"
The blonde nodded. "What about him?" She noted, pointing toward the titan.
"That would be Keetongu," Answered the crimson one. "And who and what might you be?"
The human paused. "…Winter," She finally said.
The emerald one crossed his arms. "Winter? You sure that's your real name"
"Hey, it runs in the family," She said.
The last word left a puzzled mark on her saviors' faces. "Family? As a in a clan?" Asked the white one.
"Kinda," Winter replied.
"You wouldn't happen to be from Stelt, would you?" Asked the brown one.
"Stelt?"
The green one slapped his hand on his Rahkshi-esc face. "How oblivious is this being?" He muttered.
"Isolation tends to have that effect on prisoners," Whispered the leader. "You of all beings should know that, Iruini."
"Do these bodies count as a prison then?" Iruini snapped back in a hiss.
"Oh do be quiet," Hushed the azure one. "Just be glad you're still alive after all we went through."
An hour or two later below Keadrah…
The building wasn't by any means the most spectacular of designs. The architecture of the Mersions tended to lean more towards functionality more than design. Still, it managed to radiate some form of awe towards its spectators. And as much as the four wanted to admire the carvings on the outside, they had a doctor to meet.
The place was swarming with workers, scrambling to reach their places. She make out Matoran of various types, many of them being construction works and healers. A quick mental scan of the area revealed the location of their friend. And from what she saw in their minds, he's been quite busy. It might be a bit difficult to convince him and his collages to let the medic leave the island.
Moving her way down the many halls, she eventually came across a door bearing the mark J-117. She knocked on it a couple of times, waiting for a response. She jumped when she heard static buzzing near her. The Toa turned to see a metallic box attached to the wall, right next to the door.
~Yes, is there something I can help you with? ~ Came a voice. Even through the electric currents, she could still recognize it.
"Yes, I need to borrow that Tablet of yours again," She replied wittingly. "You know, the star chart from during the Matoran Civil War."
There was a brief pause on the other side. ~…Jismal?~
She smiled. "The one and only."
The chamber's door opened with a mechanical whir. The Matoran were surprised to find no one opening it. They were even more so when they entered the room and noticed some machinery attached to the barrier. The door closed back with a hiss as the party casted their gazes on the doctor.
The being was another Mersion, clad in his kind's typical silver-and-black armor. What made him from the rest of his kinsmen was his customized Mask of Healing. It bore a number of scopes and devices attached to it, with each acting on its own account. He was busy healing an Onu-Matoran, whose organic tissue appears to have suffered some considerable damage.
"Sorry about the mess, but I am rather busy at the moment," Midekos apologized, though not bothering to glance back at his guess. Considering the fact that someone's life could've been at stake, though, that was easily forgivable.
"Things must be pretty bad if you're this busy then," Noted Kenod.
He didn't exactly reply, still tending to the patient. He didn't need to, as he allowed the Toa of Psionics search for his response. From what she saw, the crew were having some technical issues with some of their equipment. Every time one of them was on the fritz, someone would end up being sent to him.
"Not quite," Jismal observed. "But they are something of a nuisance. They don't really have a mechanic among them at the moment."
The Mersion nodded as he worked. "One's already arrived here, from the southern side of the universe. However, he vanished after leaving a hotel. I'd search for him myself, but as you can see..."
Jismal was about to open her mouth, but the scientist interrupted her. "And before you go volunteering for anything, you might want to learn a little more about the job."
Jismal put up a playful frown. She had forgotten that his kind possessed Telepathy. Just as the realization hit her, something else followed suit. A wave of information flooded her mind, images and sounds flashing within the back of her head. She clutched it in pain, holding it even as the pain subsided.
"Now if you excuse, I have some work to do," He finished, shooing the trio off.
The mechanical door opened once more, with the visitors flowing out of it. "Well, his bedside manners are certainly impeccable." Snorted the Bo-Matoran.
Jismal just motioned for the two Matoran to follow. "Come on, we have an engineer to rescue."
"What makes you think he's in danger?" Noted Tiruhk.
The Toa didn't bother to turn her head. "Plenty…" She simply replied.
Meanwhile on Stelt…
James awoke with a groan, vision blurred. The first thing he noted was that something was wrapped around each of his wrists. When his sight returned, he saw the chains clamped onto him. He was in a prison of some kind.
He spotted a tall figure in the other side of the cell. It was about eight feet tall, and bore black-and-silver armor. He could see its fiery red eyes and sharp claws, though the latter don't seem to be of much use. Much like him, it was chained to the wall.
It muttered something under its breath, turning toward the African. When it spoke again, he could hear it. What surprised him even more was that he could understand it.
"So, they bought you too?" Asked the titan in an alien tongue.
The man gave him a puzzled face, glancing around the chamber. "Where am I? And who're 'they'?"
The figure mimicked his look. "Hmm, guess you were unconscious when they found you. As for who 'they' are, look to your left."
The human complied. He spotted a barred opening above, a makeshift window. Beyond it were tall figures, most of them bearing crimson armor. They were arguing and bickering with one another.
"Those guys?" He noted.
"Indeed," Replied the ebony-colored being. "The highest members of Steltian society. Well, if you don't mind the constant war and the endless wave of crime."
"Who're they fighting?"
"Who else? Themselves. The clan-leaders often go to war over the tiniest of things. Anytime someone manages to do some considerable effort towards something, everyone else tears down his work. The only thing they can agree on is the arena."
"Arena? You mean as in ones with gladiators?"
"Yep. And they're always a fight to the death. Kill or be killed."
A sound from the right caught their attention. Two large blue-and-white beings stepped into the room, glaring at the organic entity with their crimson eyes. One of them held him down while the other undid the chains. The bruisers then guided him out of the room, with each one restraining his arm.
They met up with another member of their kind, handing the human a spear and some armor. "Trust me, you'll need these," He said.
Once he was suited up, H37 was tossed into the ring outside. Stepping of the other side was a being with large jaw and a spiked spine. His head and upper arms were covered in some organic material, the former bearing a smile or scowl. He bore yellow and burnt-brown armor, and wielded a massive axe.
The creature charged towards him, weapon above his head. The man dodged the first attack, sidestepping as it hit the ground. The entity spun around, this time hitting the target. The impact sent his prey skidding over some distance, but he was quick to recover. He blocked another assault with his spear, pushing the being back.
The man went on the offensive, slashing with his own weapon. He managed to chip off a bit of the organic tissue an upper arm, but the alien shrugged it off. Two thin lights burst from the creature's eyes, colliding with the human. He froze in place, unable to move. The being tossed him into one of the walls, the crowd roaring in delight.
The impact knocked out Masterson out of his statis field, though it did daze him some. He barely had time to duck under another slash, rolling around the barbarian as he did so. Countering with one of his own, he sliced off one of the spikes on the fleshy spine. The beast roared, grabbing him by the throat as it spun around.
A strange light emerged from the warrior, coating the two combatants. For some reason, the man suddenly felt himself growing weaker. He could hardly even move his limbs, let alone his own head. It didn't take a genius to deduce why.
The entity tossed him to the other side of the ring, laughing in his own tongue. He slowly strode his way toward his prey, axe over his shoulder. With his back towards the enemy, James tried to reach out for something, anything. As he did so, he noticed that his hand was glowing.
"Any last words before I send ya to your makers?" The being laughed in a twisted tone.
The human paused, waiting for his power to build up. Once it was, he smiled.
"Yeah," He replied. "Tell them that I'll be late!"
He slammed his hand into the ground, flowing it with power. The stone beneath them rocked, tossing the enemy around. An explosion knocked him into the air, giving the African some breathing space. Before the creature hit the ground, a spike appeared beneath him. It rammed its way through him, impaling him through the chest.
The crowd gasped, their eyes nearly popping out. The barbarian uttered something foul in his people's words, before the lights in his eyes faded. Once the body went limb, the stone thorn sank back into place. Masterson rose, barely able to stand. For a brief moment, silence hang in the air.
Then there was a roar around him. The spectators cheered, apparently awed by his show of power. He noticed some of the crimson titans clapping their hands, a smug look on their faces. The laborers showed up, guiding him back to his cell. His fellow inmate was relieved of his chains, though his face was stitched with shock.
"How…" He could barely finish his question.
"It's a… bit of a curse I received," Replied the otherworlder.
"Curse? Seems more a like gift back there. I haven't really seen anyone impale a Skakdi with their Elemental force."
"Skakdi? That's what that guy's kind are called?"
"Yep. And doubt the rest of them will go easy on you."
The man crossed his arms. "I figured. Hey, how much you know about this place. This world, I mean."
The tall one chuckled. "About as much as most beings. Why, does your kind follow an isolationist policy?"
"…something like that," The man hinted. He wasn't so sure if he should tell the full truth to an alien. Then again, everyone has their own share of secrets.
His comrade-in-arms (or chains, rather) laughed. "Very well, what do you wish to know?"
Meanwhile, in a certain wasteland…
If the boy hadn't known any better right now, he'd consider himself a madman by now.
The area was encased within an inverted dome, something similar to a bowl. The palce was a barren wasteland, devoid of life. And whatever life wandered this place was hardly alive to begin with. He remembered something from his captors, something they implanted into that brain of his. They were more of this world's inhabitants, quite possibly the dominant species. Considering their similar sizes and design to his armor, he presumed them to be the "Matoran".
They were all different from one another in some way. The masks they wore, the colors of their armor, the design and style of them, and countless more factors. In a way, they were like humanity. They are different, yet they are of the same people. And much like them, they can be broken.
Two things stood out to him. One was the furnaces, towering pass the highest mountains of the canyon. Their fires bellowed from massive chimneys, smoke raining down on everyone. The other was a massive fortress, or what was left of one. It was a charred ruin, a shadow of its former self. And he found himself being forced through its jagged doors.
The creatures shoved him pass the obsidian giants, the latter closing right behind him. He spun around as he regained his footing, racing back towards the gates. He tried prying them open, bashing at them, but none of it did any good. He cursed under his breath, falling to his knees. He heard metallic footsteps behind, coming closer and closer. The boy turned his head, coming face-to-face with the host of the domain.
The being before him was a living nightmare. He was a towering figure, adorn in ebony-and-gold armor. Its luster has long since faded, the spikes on it having become dull and blunt. His gauntlets crackled with a sinister energy, his haunting eyes gazed into the boy's own. But what stood out was his mask. It was twisted and warped, just like the land and ruler themselves. It seemed to be a combination of several other masks, stitched and welded together.
"A Matoran…." Said the being, almost in a ghostly whisper. "It has been a long time since one came to my land, let alone any being."
He glanced down, examining the outsider. "Hmm, you armor is a little dusty, but nothing seems to be broken." He noted. "So what reason would you come here for then? Discipline issues? Failing health? Lack of strength?"
The figure knelt down before the alien, placing a clawed hand on the little one's shoulder. "Whatever the problem is, we can fix that."
H1 just stared at him, bug-eyed. Beneath his mask, his was stuttering, unable to utter a sound. If the host had looked into the outsider's eyes, he would've the terror in them. The Makuta were a bunch of monsters, but this entity… this one was fear incarnate.
The custodian rose back up, guiding the outsider down the main hall. Numerous torches were lit up against the walls, giving off a fading orange-red. And yet, rather than giving off any warmth, they produced a deathly chill. He spotted a streak of lightning out one of the windows, yet no thunder followed. At last, they found themselves before a crumbling throne, of which the ruler quickly sat upon.
"Before we speak any further, I believe an introduction is needed," He said. "My name is Karzahni, and I am the lord of this humble domain."
The madman leaned forward, staring down into the outsider's eyes once more. "And who might you be?"
A/N: Welp, here it is. I'm not really satisfied with how this chapter ended, but I was kidna on a stump. :/ Not much to say, apart from that the next chapter might be the last ones detailing the aftermath of the breakout (at least, in mere days). Speaking of days, did you know that a day on Spherus Magna and the Matoran Universe is about 36 hours long? Seems like H1 and crew might need to readjust their sleeping schedules a bit.