The hidden passage led to a hidden door. The hidden door revealed a welcome sight— a Chozo statue crouching in a shadowed, musty room. Its long stone talons offered a dimly-glowing capsule, a worthy prize to whomever discovered this secret. Samus approached without hesitation.
Before her fingers so much as brushed the capsule, the talons closed over it in an unprecedented act of defiance.
Moving wasn't unusual for Chozo statues. Samus had seen them sitting, standing, and even walking as she grew up, and during her zero mission, many eagerly lifted helping hands to assist her. While they did not possess souls, their gentle, passive demeanors made them seem very much alive.
The ones that could walk were sentries who guarded, patrolled, and even fought on behalf of the Chozo and their secrets. With these duties came more aggressive personalities. After all, they were not merely sentient statues, but living machines. Warrior automatons.
Torizo.
A faint light radiated from its hands; the capsule lit up and dissolved. The statue had claimed the item's power for its own.
The hollow stone eyes burned with yellow fire as it roared to life. Shedding its ancient stone casing, the mechanical creature rose to full height. Easily twelve feet, it towered over the Hunter, who backed up slowly, training her cannon upon its face.
If it recognized her Chozo armor, it betrayed no sign of friendliness. In fact, the reverse seemed more fitting— it was prepared to kill, and to emphasize, the door locked behind Samus.
Fine. She would not have fled anyhow.
Just one problem— the Baby had been hovering outside the room, and now they were separated. It shrieked an alarm—Samus heard a weak, frantic thumping against the door— but nothing changed the situation. To reunite with it, she needed to slay this rogue automaton.
She unleashed her new missiles, pounding the Torizo's head and torso. Cracks formed in its face and chest, but it bore down on her with unwavering drive. Its long arms, reinforced with deadly talons, slashed with inhuman speed, leaving little room to dodge in the room's tight quarters.
A sharp blow connected with Samus's shoulder, slicing a chunk off her pauldron but leaving her otherwise unharmed. Gritting her teeth, she fired missile after missile into the beast, forcing it back.
Giving it distance turned out to be a terrible idea. Opening its beak wide, a slew of round projectiles launched everywhere into the air. Nowhere to dodge. Samus had no choice but to brace herself.
They rained down like meteors, exploding on contact with deafening BOOMS. The ringing in her ears and the blinding flashes flooded her senses, leaving her unable to distinguish her surroundings. With her disoriented, the Torizo charged, claws blazing with energy bright as sunlight.
She saw the attack just in time. A missile shattered its eye before it could strike. Smoke billowed and sparks popped erratically as its color dulled and faded into the blackness of its socket. Unbalanced, the Torizo staggered dangerously. Samus rolled between its legs before it toppled into the door.
The impact shook the room, blowing a hole through the wall, creating a storm of dust and debris in its wake— Samus jumped back as a boulder-sized chunk fell from the ceiling.
She couldn't see a thing— even her visor's light couldn't penetrate the opaque wall of dust— but she heard something. A high-pitched scree, careening toward her like a runaway freight train. Without warning, something smacked her in the face. It took a moment to recognize the larva's cry, desperate as it sought reunion with Samus. It clung dumbly to her visor so all she could see were its rows of tiny, partially-formed teeth. She gave it a pat to let it know it was safe; it released its grip and hovered beside her, still wary.
An unearthly roar at the opposite end snapped them back into focus. Samus still couldn't see, but she could hear the Torizo rising, armored claws scraping harshly against the floor. As the dust began to settle, the glow of its single remaining eye cut through like a searchlight. The light flickered and died, then returned blue. The same blue burning in the eyes of the pirate. The same blue seeking out the Baby's life.
Its talons scraped closer, closer, as it advanced on her. Samus fired into the cloud, aiming straight for where its head was, but missed. Confused— she was certain her aim was dead-on— she fired again, only to realize, upon coming into light, why it didn't work.
Half its face was blown off. A strange fluid leaked out of the hole as it swung around, trying to see its target with its one good eye. Out of control, the Torizo half-charged, half-stumbled, blind with rage, towards the Hunter, who deliberately placed herself between it and the Baby.
"No closer," she threatened in the tongue she knew it would recognize.
The Torizo faltered, even lowered its arm. But the blue fire burned with renewed intensity, coursing through not only its brain but its body. It charged again, and Samus dealt the final blow with one last missile to its central core. The remains crumbled to ash at her feet, while the capsule it absorbed hovered before her, as if waiting for her to claim ownership. Nothing stood in her way now. Yet, she got the distinct impression someone still watched her; she could still sense that blue eye's fire searing the back of her head.
No one's there. She shook her head and stretched out her hand.
MORPH BALL BOMB OBTAINED.
As the pair continued on, descending further and further underground, an odd, bitter sense of regret haunted the back of the Hunter's mind. Not of simply destroying the Torizo, but of how she spoke Chozodian to it, and how it listened, if only for the briefest moment, before she destroyed it. Of how many years had passed since she last spoke her second language to anybody who understood. Of how many years had come and gone without a hint of a living Chozo.
She glanced sideways at the Metroid larva floating cheerfully along as usual, not a care in the world. Were they really the last ones left?
Samus realized she didn't want an answer. She may be used to being alone, but for the first time in a long time, even with the larva beside her, she felt alone. And, unlike the Torizo, you couldn't just blast that feeling away.
Upon arriving at a new environment, those haunting notions wiped themselves from her mind. Her first thought was they'd somehow returned to the surface. The world around her brimmed with verdant overgrowth, with lush moss for grass and twisted, thorny vines weaving in and out of every surface. Despite being miles underground, the air smelled fresh and sweet, for flowers burst out of every corner in rainbows of red, violet, and white blooms.
Was this truly Brinstar? Never in Samus's memory had the flora been so abundant here, not even when she called this place home. Strangely as it struck her to think, it was beautiful. More than once, she had to hold the Baby back from smelling the flowers, because she remembered their pollen was poisonous, even though she herself was resisting temptation.
The single path sprawled and twisted into many branches, all leading deeper into the jungle. Trusting her instincts, Samus took off at a sprint. Maybe it was the clean air, or maybe the pollen had gone to her head after all, but running full-out was downright exhilarating. It felt so good to run without pursuing or being pursued, to leap over huge gaps that weren't bottomless pits or lava lakes. It was fun, and a welcome break from the stress of battle. She knew it wouldn't last, but hey, no sense in not making the most of it while it did.
Running from tangled barrages of thorny vines wasn't exactly how she envisioned it ending.
They came out of nowhere, exploding out of the walls like battering rams, attempting to crush her into a pancake. First they pursued from behind, but then they began cutting off branching paths, forcing her down a singular route. It was like they had minds of their own. The Reaper Vines of Tallon IV had them, but these were just…vines. Vines bent on her demise.
It came to a head when she reached— you guessed it— a pit with no bottom in sight. She skidded to a halt at the edge, only for the Baby to crash into her as it, too, had been fleeing at top speed. Samus frantically windmilled her arms in an attempt to regain balance, the Baby latched onto her back and pulled with all its might, and the vines ignored their feeble attempts and attacked with a vengeance. One last wallop and down they went.
Samus righted herself with a short boost from her thrusters and managed to stick the landing. The blow had stunned the Baby, preventing it from correcting itself, so Samus caught it in her arms before it hit the ground. It shook itself out, chirped its thanks, and turned its gaze skyward.
They'd fallen a long way. Samus couldn't see herself climbing out easily, but there weren't many other options. The pit's perimeter was sealed by the rampaging vines, who'd suddenly converted to pacifism and merely stood guard at the edges.
She blasted them over and over with everything she had, but they hardly reacted. In fact, they pressed together even more tightly, filling in the tiniest gaps in their defenses, and for good measure, released clouds of green spores in her face. Coughing, she took the hint and backed off.
Whoever or whatever controlled these things did so with an iron grip. The whole environment reminded her of sand traps some predators constructed. The prey would fall down a slippery slope they couldn't climb out of. The only way was down, down, into the jaws of whatever awaited at the bottom.
Clusters of spores wafted around her as she paced, ready to shoot at the predator's first sign of emergence from below.
"Get out of here," she told the Baby, jerking her chin up. "Fly high and stay out of reach while I deal with this." She stepped away, then added over her shoulder, "And don't touch that stuff."
Away it flew, higher and higher until it vanished into the dark shadows clouding the ceiling. Samus resumed focusing on the earth, ready for the slightest tremor shifting its crust.
A screech of terror split the silence. Samus cursed herself, for it rang out not from the earth but the sky. The Baby!
The darkness above swallowed its cry instantly, but it echoed in her ears and iced her blood.
No, no, no!
Like heavy snowfall, the spores littered the air now, and despite her suit's protection, they were starting to get to her. Her throat felt dry as sand and did nothing to hinder an outbreak of uncontrollable coughing; she could barely draw breath in-between.
To make matters worse, subverting the Hunter's expectations of an enemy below, the shadowed predator descended from above.
A hideous, wriggling, hulking mass of vomitous green, swaying under the weight of its own bulk, slid down into the pit at a crawl. The mass was the end of a chain of similar orbicular structures, acting as a neck of sorts for this thing to lower itself into its trap and feed on whatever poor creatures unfortunate enough to fall in.
Despite her familiarity with Zebes' creatures, she'd never seen anything like this. Only Mother Brain could have bioengineered such a sophisticated nightmare. Swathed in sharp spikes and stumpy tendrils, which released more potent, poisonous spores, it bore neither eyes nor mouth that Samus could see. Its bulk was no bluff, either. Like the vines, Samus's Power Beam failed to penetrate its thick shell. The shots bounced off like rubber balls and did nothing to slow its complacent, unhurried pace. Not a single meal had escaped its pit in its entire lifetime— why should this gaudy yellow insect turn out any differently?
Once, it paused its descent and thrashed about violently, banging against the vine walls, which layered over themselves to form some cushioning, but did not prevent the release of tens of thousands more spores.
The spores had different functions, Samus realized as she fought back another hacking fit. Some, like the ones from the vines, were for defense and only mildly irritating. The predator possessed the truly dangerous varieties; spores to disable, to kill, and, most likely, to break down the prey for digestion once it died. If it weren't for the suit, she would've been long dead by now.
Even more interestingly, the monster's sickly green color had turned an even ghastlier shade after its odd fit. It recovered and resumed its steady pace towards Samus, only for another full-body spasm to seize it. Its thrashing was wilder, yet tapered off more quickly this time, tiring it out to a stand-still. Nearly all color was drained from its body.
Rushing to their parent's protection, scores upon scores of new vines shot up wherever the spores landed. Inheriting their elders' innate, hiveminded instinct for murder, they ensnared her legs, rooting her in place. No matter how many she blasted, hundreds more took their place.
This called for new strategy. Morphing, she easily slipped out and rolled to a new position, where new vines repeated the attack. It was an odd dance of sorts, constantly dodging, jumping, and rolling out of reach of an endless onslaught.
She could beat back the vines, but could not destroy them all any more than the monster. Nothing she threw at it hurt it, but something was killing it…
…from the inside.
The foolish mistake of sending the Baby away may very well have saved her life.
She stopped dodging the vines and stood upright. Even as they wrapped around her legs, she ignored them, focusing only on the monster, who recovered and, with reckless abandon, whipped back and forth in a furious frenzy. The last swing sailed mere feet over her head.
She'd only get one shot, but one shot was all she needed.
Come on! Come get me!
Its spikes skimmed the ground as it came level with her. One last pass and it would claim its next meal.
There! A split in the exact middle of its shell betrayed the tiniest flash of orange— a brain, sacs of digestive fluid, a cluster of nerves, or all of the above— entrenched in sinewy vines holding the body together. Morphing, Samus dove inside the gap.
To the orange core clung none other than the Baby, confirming that it was the one causing the monster's uncontrollable spasms. The monster had snapped it up, but the Baby had turned the tide in the blink of an eye, absorbing all the energy it could stomach. Samus joined in by laying bombs around the pulsating core. When they detonated, a rumbling, gruesome roar rocked the monster's body. Translucent fluid leaked from the inner walls. Teetering on the brink of death, the mouth began to close.
Samus unmorphed directly under the mouth, thrusting her shoulders against the upper piece. The pressure was unimaginable. Lazy as the monster was, its jaws equaled the power of a shark's bite. Opening its mouth took far more strength than shutting it. When it snapped closed, it would not reopen.
It took all of Samus's concentration to force it open. She couldn't speak, let alone breathe. It felt like the weight of the world upon her shoulders. She managed to meet the larva's gaze, who backed up deliberately.
What…are you…doing?! Fragmented pieces of thought dripped down her brain, which felt like it was short-circuiting from the strain. "GO!" she bellowed at it.
It obeyed, but instead of passing her, it slammed into her gut with all its might, shoving her away from the monster. Where there was agony of the pressure came an instant, blissful numbness as she was released from its hold. She'd forgotten all feeling but pain in the last few moments.
She and the larva tumbled across the mossy ground as the monster's life finally gave out. As its mouth closed forever, the core's light faded. Flat on her back, Samus watched as the body and chain, instead of falling down, retracted upward into the ceiling like an anchor being pulled into a ship. Like ripples in a pond, beginning with the creature, all green life around them withered and died. An eerie hush settled over the pit, leaving Samus listening to the sound of herself breathing. And, of course, the Baby, chirping incessantly as it hovered over her like a concerned mother hen.
She tried to sit up, wincing as her shoulders throbbed in protest. She flopped back down; her energy was completely sapped. The Baby might as well have drained her instead of the monster. Luckily, she was otherwise unhurt.
Tiny pieces began breaking off the shriveled plant life, lightly dusting the air like dull, golden brown petals. Even without life, something still had to fall down here. At least they could find a way out now.
The Baby tentatively nudged her helmet, trilling softly. She patted it, then made another attempt to sit up. Her shoulders still ached, but she managed.
On her feet again, she easily blasted the skeletal husks of the vines out of her way, revealing a hole just big enough for her to roll through in the Morph Ball. And the Baby, smaller than the Ball, trailed behind her happily.
As lovely as the green side of Brinstar was, Samus was ready to leave it behind. Perhaps the hole would lead to a new environment, one the opposite of green. So much had changed in Brinstar alone, she was not sure where each path would lead.
This one, it turned out, led straight to the entrance of a pirate stronghold.
A small cliffhanger— hope you liked! I probably won't get a new chapter out this month, so Merry Christmas! (And a late Happy Hanukkah.)