(A/N): Hey everyone, Joey245 here! Let's address the Kikanalo in the room first - no, this is NOT the sequel to Destiny's Divide, nor is it anything nearly as ambitious as either story. Rather, this and any other one-shots are just little character vignettes within my RWBY/BIONICLE crossover 'verse that I wrote either because I thought it would be fun, or as a coping mechanism for things happening in the show.
This one is definitely the former. One of the most fun parts about writing a crossover fic between two things (which, in my view, counts as an alternate universe to both works being crossed) is imagining what else might be different beyond the scope of the story itself. For this one, I decided to take a deep dive into BIONICLE lore and ask the question: instead of Voya Nui breaking away from the Southern Continent during the Great Cataclysm and going up to the surface…what if it was the other way around? What if the Southern Continent broke away from Voya Nui instead? The result is this chapter, which pulls double-duty as both a self-contained tale within the Matoran Universe and serves to sow the seeds for a minor plot point for the story as a whole. (Oh, but don't worry RWBY fans - there's a reveal in this chapter that I think you'll find very interesting…)
In any case, hope you enjoy!
It was a perfectly ordinary day on the Southern Continent…or what was left of it, at any rate.
Garan's eyes strained to see under the dim glow of the dull-gold sky as he made his way on a familiar patrol route, which took him along one reaching peninsula of the landmass and brought him near to the icy beach and the endless ocean beyond it. As he walked he found himself fondly remembering a time over a thousand years ago, when the skies were brighter and full of color. It was times like these that he wished his Kanohi Ruru actually worked, and wasn't just a powerless copy - night vision may have seemed redundant on an Onu-Matoran, but even they needed at least some light to see through the omnipresent darkness that settled around the corner of their shattered world.
Of course, he also wished a lot of things were different.
Like his body, for instance. His fully-robotic arms and mostly-mechanical legs clicked and clacked with servos long past the point of disrepair, straining and struggling to carry his own weight and the pulse bolt generators that were "gifted" to him as an apology for a shoddy repair job. He was far from the only one who'd been fixed in such a way, nor did he doubt he'd be the last - for someone who prided himself on being his brother's equal, Karzahni was certainly terrible at actually fixing broken-down Matoran, and he was certainly quick to ship them to this fractured continent so that he'd never have to look at his failures again.
Still, Garan supposed, things could be worse. Their little island could be floating up on the surface of an unknown world.
"Garan! Garan! I found something incredible!"
He let out a mental sigh as a familiar voice reached his audio receptors. The loud shout was followed by the sound of a rather infamous Le-Matoran scrambling up the ice-covered cliff-side, using the shredder claws built to replace his hands to scale the near-vertical surface. Sure enough, the top half of Piruk's Mahiki appeared next to his heels, eyes brimming with excitement, fear, and everything in between.
"What is it this time, Piruk?" Garan let out an actual sigh. "No wait, let me guess. The Mask of Light? The Staff of Artakha? A very, very shiny rock?" If he had any widgets, he'd put all of them on that last one.
The would-be treasure hunter shook his head fervently. "No! I'm serious! I really did find something this time!"
"Uh huh," said the very unconvinced Onu-Matoran. "And I should care because…?"
"Because I'm not just crying Kavinika! Come on, follow me - I'll take you right to her!"
…her?
Garan didn't have time to ask more questions before Piruk started sliding down the cliff once again, leaving long trails in the ice as he descended. With a groan he snapped his own bladed tools into place and moved to do the same, eventually touching down behind the Le-Matoran as he hobbled forward on legs too big for his tiny little body. Despite his attempts to keep his expectations lowered, he couldn't help but idly wonder what the treasure hunter had actually found - in all likelihood, it was just another Gafni having her pups or his tamed Desert Burnak performing some new trick. Sometimes he envied the younger Matoran's sense of adventure and whimsy. The rest of the time he hated how it almost always got him into trouble.
But when Piruk finally came to a stop at the edge of the island, where the frozen shore met the sea of protodermis, Garan wasn't sure which one was appropriate.
His eyes widened as he took in the sight of a two-bio-tall being of metal and muscle sprawled out along the shore, lying on its back with its crimson Kanohi Hau facing the sky. Its long, lightly-armored legs were still halfway in the sea, while its arms were folded over its golden-bronze chest. There was nothing nearby to suggest how it had come here, or where it had come from - and curiously enough, the stranger had glowing green eyes that pulsed faintly while staring at nothing.
"A…a Toa?" Garan breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Here, of all places?…"
"I told you I found something," said Piruk smugly.
The Onu-Matoran's optics nearly fell through his mask with how hard he rolled them. "Yes yes, your delusions about this blasted rock containing priceless treasure have finally been validated. Now go fetch Turaga Jovan already! I'll try to pull her out of the sea…"
His unlikely friend snapped a salute with a grin, then started scaling the cliffs to get their village elder. Confident for once that the little Le-Matoran wouldn't get distracted, Garan nearly stumbled over his own two feet as he approached the motionless Toa. Pulling her stiff hands away from her chest revealed a heartlight that faintly pulsed an unsteady amber, along with an odd symbol stamped into the surrounding golden metal.
A polearm of some kind piercing a circle.
"Excuse me…Toa?" he asked as he tried and failed to move her with his lackluster motor strength. "Are you hurt? Are you alive? Are you - "
"No!"
The Toa suddenly rolled to her feet and rose to her full height, stretching a hand out towards Garan as the air began to hum. He let out a yelp as he suddenly found himself lifted into the air, the plates of his body creaking and crunching as they started to fold in on themselves. Garan's eyes widened as he realized just what element the Toa wielded - and that was followed by a pit forming in his rapidly-collapsing chest.
Not just a Toa…he thought through the pain. A Toa of Iron!
Just before he could fully bend over backwards in a way he was never meant to, the Toa suddenly seemed aware of what she was doing. She released her grip with a sharp gasp and dropped to her knees, letting the Onu-Matoran fall to the icy ground with a painful thump. Groaning as he sat up, Garan spent a moment silently watching the Toa examine herself, and though he couldn't read the thoughts that were surely racing through her mind he didn't need a Suletu to know how scared and confused she was.
"Well, I suppose that answers that," he said after a long moment. "Though I'd appreciate a warning next time you decide to mask-handle me."
"I'm sorry…" said the Toa in a soft, gentle voice. "I…don't know why I did that…or how I did that…"
"Well, then let's start with what you do know," said Garan. "What's your name?"
The Toa hesitated, then shrugged. "I…don't know that either…I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. A Toa with memory issues is hardly uncommon."
Garan's gaze snapped overhead to see a hunched figure wearing steel-gray robes float over the side of the cliff, floating gently and gracefully down towards the pair of them. Though the Kanohi Kadin he wore no longer afforded him true aerial freedom, even a Noble Mask of Flight still let the Turaga of Magnetism hover across the difficult landscape at rapid speeds. Turaga Jovan set himself down in front of the Toa, examining them from heel to head with eyes that shone with eighty thousand years' worth of wisdom and experience.
"Fascinating…" mused the former master of Magnetism. "You're here on our shores without a Toa Canister or transport in sight, with nothing to call your own - not even your memories. And a Toa of Iron, on top of that…hmm…"
The nameless Toa tilted her head. "That is…unusual?"
A sharp chortle escaped the elder's throat. "For any other element, no. But for yours…let's just say that some very powerful people feel threatened by your mere existence, to the point that they target Fe-Matoran just to make sure they never become Toa. And the Makuta would have us believe that they're all so fearless, so powerful…but the moment you awaken to a power that can rip their armored shells to shreds, they start fearing for their blackened souls…"
Piercing green eyes blinked slowly.
"…ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself," muttered the Turaga as he gestured with a small smile. "Come. Our village is safer than the edge of the sea. Not by much, of course…but any port in a storm, right?"
Something flashed in the Toa's gaze. "…yes. Yes, I think I would like that. Thank you."
As Jovan led them back on a path Garan himself had taken thousands of times, he flashed a grin beneath his spiky mask.
"Welcome to Voya Nui, stranger…or, as some like to call it, the daggers of death."
It had been one week since the new Toa's arrival, and Axonn's curiosity nearly overpowered him.
He stood there at the village's edge as he'd done so many times before, watching as she went through a variety of practice combat stances with some of the local Matoran in the central square. While Kazi and Balta struggled to match her movements with their dual-wielded repellers and echo forks, Dalu and Velika had no such difficulty - the former wielded her crescent-shaped charge blades with the grace and balance of the Ga-Matoran she once was, while the latter's flexible arms allowed him to effortlessly lift his drill-like power carvers. As for the nameless Toa herself, she wielded a short sword in one hand and a circular shield in the other, though her hands never strayed far from the shaft of the spear slung across her back.
"What do you make of this, Brutaka?" he asked his gold-and-blue counterpart, looking over to see his oldest friend twirling his double-bladed weapon pensively.
"I don't know what to make of this, and that worries me," grumbled the lanky warrior. "You're sure that mask of yours is working right, and she's not just lying about her missing memories?"
"If she was concealing the truth, I would have seen it," countered Axonn, fingers tapping against the shaft of his axe as he rested its head against the ground. "Sometimes a Toa forgets their time as a Matoran, if their transformation was traumatic enough, but to forget that they even were Matoran at the start…"
"It's unheard of," agreed Brutaka. "Which just begs the question - what is she? What kind of Toa doesn't even remember their own name?"
"Perhaps she was never given one as a Matoran," he postulated. "Or perhaps she never was a Matoran to begin with. We know such a thing is possible - the Toa Mata exist, after all, as does Helryx."
"That's Kraata slime and you know it, Axonn," snarled his fellow Order member. "Those are all special cases, and we know where all of them can be found. Our boss never sets foot outside of our home base, and the Toa Mata are all fast asleep in their canisters. None of them would have any reason to come to this Spirit-forsaken place, and none of them would have had the element of Iron."
"We can rule nothing out, my friend. Our task is to carry out the will of the Great Spirit, however strange it may seem. Perhaps this nameless Toa plays into that will, somehow."
"Maybe…" grumbled Brutaka. "Or maybe he's not as smart and all-powerful as everyone says he is."
Axonn shot a warning glance at his partner. "Careful, old friend…that's a dangerous line of thinking. Especially whenever Botar is nearby."
"He's always nearby," shot back Brutaka. "Can't say two words without him catching the wrong one and shipping you off to the Pit to rot with all the other freaks. Didn't that place flood with seawater during the Great Cataclysm? How's he still delivering prisoners if the whole jail's underwater?"
"Perhaps he simply holds his breath," said Axonn with a sharp chuckle. "And if you are still uncertain about the Toa of Iron…you simply need to talk to her to understand her better."
"See, there's your problem. Assuming I want to talk and make friends with the villagers like you."
"Then perhaps I should drag you down there myself."
"…you wouldn't dare."
"Would I?"
That was all Axonn said before he grabbed his protesting partner by the arm, using his natural strength to pull him along as he marched to the center of the village square. Brutaka squirmed and dug his heels into the dirt to avoid being publicly ridiculed, but eventually relented and settled for spearing his friend with a venomous glare instead. Most beings would have fled or dropped their masks at the sight of two four-bio-tall armored warriors - one red and silver, the other blue and gold - making their approach with weapons in hand. The nameless Toa was clearly not like most beings, because all she did when she heard them coming was spin on her heel, smile behind her crimson Hau, and wave with a single hand.
"Hello again!" she said cheerfully as she greeted the axe-wielding warrior. Then she tilted her head as she regarded his friend. "Who's this?"
"Greetings, Toa," regarded Axonn with a nod (which was his own equivalent of a warm and friendly welcome) before releasing his grip on his ally. "This is Brutaka, my partner and longtime friend. We protect these lands in the absence of Toa such as yourself, to cull the dangerous Rahi that the Matoran cannot hunt themselves."
"Not for lack of trying…" mumbled Dalu.
Of course, that was a lie and Axonn knew it - their actual reason for being there was to guard the Kanohi Ignika, the legendary Mask of Life and the only thing that could restore the Great Spirit should his health begin failing. But no one besides Jovan - the leader of the last Toa team who had come to use it, who'd stayed behind and given up his Toa Power to become a Turaga - needed to know that. Not yet, at least.
The Toa, meanwhile, had a pensive expression. "Partner…?"
Brutaka's brow furrowed beneath his Kanohi Olmek. "Yes, partner. Someone you work and fight alongside, no matter how annoyingly sanctimonious they get." He shot a playful glare at Axonn, who returned it with a wry smile.
"I…see…" In stark contrast to how she acted moments earlier, the Toa of Iron's gaze fell to her golden-plated feet.
That got Axonn's attention, prompting him to subtly pulse the power of his Kanohi Rode.
"Do you remember something?" he asked.
"Only…a feeling," intoned the mysterious Toa, an odd longing slipping into her words. "A warmth, but also a bitter cold…a taste of something soft…and a sense of regret. Of shame. Of sorrow. And yet…there's an echo of satisfaction as well. Of resolve. Of…finality."
She shook her head. "I don't remember anything else. I'm sorry."
Axonn frowned. His Mask of Truth hadn't picked up on any deceptions, conscious or otherwise. But that wasn't nearly as curious as the way that feeling had been described. Did the Toa have a partner of her own at some point? Perhaps even someone she'd pair-bonded with?
"The Muaka may be a solo hunter in lean times," said Velika, "but even it knows the pain of loneliness."
Kazi's optics rolled in their sockets. "Insightful as always, carver. Very helpful."
The odd little Matoran - who was somehow even odder than the rest of his peers - merely smirked. "Thorny as the cactus fruit may be, the struggle makes its juices all the sweeter."
"I'm going to be thorny if you don't start talking normally!" growled Dalu.
The nameless Toa started giggling, clearly grateful that the focus was no longer on her. "I think that is enough combat practice for today. Are there any other chores that need doing? I could try to un-mangle that gate along the southern wall…I think I'm getting a better hold of my powers."
"We would appreciate that," said Balta with a curt nod before looking over the two guardians. "If that works for our taller guests?"
"Yes, that will suffice," said Axonn with a slow nod. "Thank you, Toa."
With a smile behind her Hau and a salute, the nameless Toa turned and left alongside the badly-repaired Matoran. Axonn watched them leave for a moment, then gave a quick tilt of his head to the village exterior. Brutaka scowled beneath his mask, but moved to follow him all the same.
"Well that was a waste of time," grumbled his fellow Order member. "We didn't learn anything else about her."
"Or perhaps we did."
Brutaka turned and looked at Axonn as if he'd finally snapped. "What's that supposed to mean? She clearly said she didn't remember."
"Her mind may not have remembered, but the soul rarely forgets," clarified the axe-wielding warrior. "Even if she cannot recall them, the memories still exist within her heartstone - perhaps, then, they are not so much 'missing' as they are 'sealed away.' We saw her appearing nostalgic for something in her past when we were discussing partners - given time, other things could trigger long-lost feelings and sensations associated with those events."
"So what are we supposed to do? Just wait around for her to smell the trees and remember everything? Babysit an amnesiac Toa while also guarding the Mask of Life?"
"There's not much else we can do for her, unless we want Krakua to take a look at her mind." Axonn smirked. "And try not to be so dour, friend. You always said how much you wanted something different to do around here."
Brutaka opened his mouth to protest, then clearly decided against it before settling for a scowl behind his golden Olmek.
"We never would've gotten these boring assignments back in the Hands of Artakha," he grumbled.
For once, Axonn didn't disagree…though he did hope that the nameless Toa would rediscover herself soon.
It had been two years since she washed ashore upon Voya Nui, and still she remembered nothing.
She sat on the frozen shores she'd once arrived on, busying her mind and her hands by throwing her spear and pulling it back with her elemental power. The motion felt…familiar, somehow, as if it was something she'd done all her life, but when she tried to recall where she'd learned that trick she came up with nothing. Though the village was stronger than it had ever been, and though the relationships she'd formed with the Matoran of this island warmed her heart, the fact that she still didn't even know her own name was endlessly frustrating.
Why can't I remember? Her brow furrowed and her gaze narrowed. Why do I still feel so…broken? Incomplete? …lost?
Her brooding was interrupted by the sky suddenly growing several shades darker.
The Toa looked up in alarm as her spear instinctively returned to her hand, pulling herself to her feet and drawing her shield. According to Turaga Jovan, the skies hadn't changed for a thousand years - not since the Great Spirit Mata Nui fell into a deep slumber, struck down by the hands of a treacherous Makuta with delusions of ruling the universe. So for the pale, dull-gold expanse above to get even dimmer…it could only mean one thing.
Shadows are on the move.
Sure enough, in the dim light she caught a glimpse of several massive winged figures soaring overhead, each one flanked by over a dozen armored drones flying in a V-shaped formation. The Toa narrowed her eyes as she crouched behind a nearby glacier to conceal herself. Her gut told her to fight, but her mind remained calm: launching herself at an unknown foe would yield nothing but her own death. For now, she would track the foes and study them, learn their weaknesses before engaging.
Glowing green eyes watched as the aerial adversaries made their descent, her golden-armored frame already on the move to keep up with them while staying out of sight. The slate-gray bipedal figures were the first to touch down with flaps of blackened wings, landing on thick armored legs and regarding the world around them with striking crimson eyes. After them came the pale yellow drones, which the Toa could only describe as a cross between a Toa and a serpent: strange creatures bearing long armored limbs of the former and the body and face of the latter. The walking serpents hissed with mouths that opened up like the petals of the ugliest flowers in existence, revealing organic slugs within their helmets that writhed with each screech. If the larger bipeds were annoyed or afraid, they didn't show it - their only reaction was to keep searching for possible threats, which prompted the Toa to duck back behind an icy rock before they could spot her.
"No sign of it so far," growled one. "Should we have the Rahkshi fan out and start tearing this island apart?"
Another shook their head. "Keep them together and head for the village. I don't care how brave these broken little freaks are, they'll fold upon seeing an army of their worst nightmare marching on their gates. And there's no need to look for it when we can have that old scrap-head take us there himself."
"You really think that Turaga'll play nice with a bunch of Makuta like us?" asked a third with a doubtful snarl.
"He will if you let me do the talking like we agreed," hissed the second. "This path looks well-worn. It must be one the Matoran use a lot…and where else would it lead if not to their cute little settlements? Come on - and keep an eye out for those brutes."
With something resembling agreement among the group, the squabbling Makuta made their way up the path, followed by their…Rahkshi. The nameless Toa narrowed her eyes and followed quietly, darting between rocky outcroppings as the icy shores gave way to stone flat-lands. Though her frame was built for strength, not stealth, she still managed to move almost soundlessly from one cover to another - and as tempted as she was to use her elemental powers to pick off foes one by one, caution stayed her hand.
So these are Makuta, she thought with a silent pensive hum. Clearly they are here seeking…something. But what are they after? And where are Axonn and Brutaka? Surely they would have seen the darkening skies and known what's wrong…
Her mental questions would have to be answered later as the village came into view, and her heartstone shattered when she saw her smaller friends leaping atop the steel walls to protect themselves.
The Matoran put up a valiant defense, all things considered. Their tools flew into their mechanical hands and fired bolts of energy at the advancing war party, and would have struck true if their opponents didn't have thick wings to block the shots. Unfortunately, these Makuta had those and much more - with a wave of their hands, Garan and Balta and all the others floated in the air for a brief moment, before slamming down with enough force to rattle the dozen defenders. Before anyone else could move, however, Jovan hovered into sight and landed in front of the village gates, narrowing his eyes behind his spiky mask and barely flinching as one of the intruders marched up and glowered at him.
"Turaga!"
"Take everyone and get inside my office, Garan," ordered Jovan. "Wait there for me."
"But -"
"Now."
The Onu-Matoran nodded numbly as he and his friends scrambled and scurried to the most fortified hut in the village, while the hunched elder kept glaring daggers at the figure that towered over him.
Then the most haunting sound came from the Makuta.
Laughter.
"…you know, I still find it hard to believe that the Ignika would be hidden on such a worthless pile of rocks and rubble," gloated the lead winged figure with a sinister smile, once he'd regained his composure. "And what's this? No annoyingly vigilant brutes in sight to protect it? How…delightfully…perfect."
If Jovan looked intimidated, he did a very good job of hiding it.
"I was wondering how long it'd take the Brotherhood to finally visit our little shattered corner of the world," said the Turaga with a wry grin. "You certainly showed up a few centuries later than expected - then again, I suppose it is hard to navigate when your mask is shoved so firmly up your -"
"Finish that sentence and we will end your miserable little existence," growled another Makuta.
A sharp laugh escaped the elder's throat. "Oh you will, will you? I'll have you know my existence is quite pleasant - compared to that Dume upstart over in Metru Nui, I like to think I've been handed a decent lot in life. Unlike you, I'd say."
Despite the lead Makuta's attempts to silence his fellow titans with a glare, the angry one continued to glower. "And what's that supposed to mean, you feeble little has-been?"
"Well since you asked…" Jovan's smirk never faltered. "Judging by how pristine and shiny your protosteel frames are, I'd wager that you're no more than a few centuries old? A couple thousand years, at most? Icarax must be desperate for troops if he's sending junior members like you to fetch his worthless trinkets. I still remember when the Brotherhood of Makuta was sworn to protect the Matoran…I wonder if they still teach you that part of history to little Kraata like you?"
If the angry Makuta was enraged before, he was seething now. He crouched down to attack, but the claws of the leader clamping around his wing kept him back. The other three Makuta's reactions were mixed - one looked bored, another looked impatient, and the fifth was stoic and silent.
Finally, the lead Makuta grinned beneath his blackened mask. "I wonder, Turaga…you must have seen a great many things when you were a Toa. Tell me, have you ever seen four dozen Rahkshi of Heat Vision using their power all at once?"
"I never had the pleasure, no," countered the Turaga.
"Then allow me to show you what you've been missing. Watch closely - you may find this quite illuminating."
The lead Makuta snapped his claws and pointed at a section of the wall, prompting every yellow-armored serpent to whirl around in formation and train their gaze on the patch of steel. Eight dozen eyes began to glow with ominous orange light, thermal energy spilling out the sides before a burning laser fired out of each and every one. The Toa suppressed a gasp as the barrage of beams struck the metal plate, creating a nearly-blinding flash of light that persisted until the Rahkshi finally stopped at their master's command. In the scant few seconds they had been using their power, the wall hadn't merely melted away.
It had evaporated.
Jovan did his best to mask his growing unease.
"The same fate awaits every single one of your precious little Matoran unless you take us to the Mask of Life," snarled the lead Makuta, dropping all pretense of pleasantries. "You know how to get it…after all, you've been there before, haven't you?"
The Toa frowned behind her Hau. Wise elders keeping secrets…a treasure laying in plain sight…a shadowy menace that desperately wanted that power…
Why did all of that feel so familiar?
She shook her head to clear it. Now was not the time to think about her missing past. She needed to keep her gaze trained on the present danger.
The Turaga was silent for a long while before his grin finally dropped. "I would sooner be melted into slag than ever let your kind get their claws on it."
Now it was the leader's turn to be angry and pithy as he stepped back, one claw already raised to give the signal his troops were waiting for.
"…as you wish."
When the Rahkshi turned their gaze on a defiant Jovan, the nameless Toa finally acted.
She leapt out from behind her boulder and threw her shield with honed reflexes, imbuing its metal with her elemental energy and sending it bouncing between the armored helmets of the Rahkshi. With each face plate it struck it warped the steel, sharpening the edges into pointed barbs and digging them into the energizing eyes of the serpentine soldiers. Muffled hisses rang out as entire groups of slugs screamed into helmets that would not open, until their energies cooked them alive in their own suits. By the time the Makuta finally noticed what was happening to their shock troops, a quarter of them had already self-destructed - and that was all the time she needed to catch her shield, scoop Jovan into her arms, dart through the village gate, and reach out with her hands to crumple the steel around the doorway and slam it shut.
"Toa…" breathed the Turaga as she set him down. "Thank you." His brow furrowed. "Um…how much of that did you hear?"
The Toa frowned as questions bubbled up within her mind, before she shook her head to clear it. "Enough to know that these Makuta cannot get whatever's hidden here. Where are Axonn and Brutaka?"
Jovan's reluctant silence was answer enough.
She sighed and narrowed her eyes, training her gaze on a growing spot of red within the steel-gray wall around the village. The Makuta had managed to save enough of their Rahkshi from the elemental disruption. Time was getting short.
"There are caves below the village, yes? Places where you can hide?"
The Turaga nodded. "The entrance is directly beneath my office."
"Then gather any Matoran unaware of the attack and get them - and yourself - to safety." Her voice carried certainty and authority behind every word. "I'll hold off the Makuta."
Jovan furrowed his brow and nodded, though his gaze was pleading. "I will, Toa…but why do this? You've done more than enough for us already…you don't need to die for us, too."
A fearless smirk spread behind her mask. "Who said anything about dying? After all, I believe that my Destiny doesn't end here…and of the Three Virtues, I believe the most in Destiny."
As soon as her own words reached her audio receptors, as soon as the Turaga took his leave to do as she asked, memories came flooding to her mind.
The hissing steel of the melting gate suddenly became an elevator straining to ascend, fighting her for every inch she forced it to climb. When it reached the topmost floor she kicked off the back, drawing her weapons off her back to engage the fire-wielding woman gloating in her assured victory. The battle that ensued was fierce but brief. Aerial slashes flowed into midair tackles. The finest steel melted under her burning touch. Enormous gears and twisted metal wreckage flew through the air to crush and bury the wicked witch, only for a fiery explosion to send the pieces flying - and one of them crashed against her shield, shattering her soul-forged armor. A desperate throw of her final weapon nearly knocked a glass arrow off course, but it somehow flowed around the spinning disk and buried itself into - and through - her ankle.
"It's unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours," droned the witch, as if the previous pitched battle was nothing more than a dull exercise. "But take comfort in knowing that I will use it in ways you could have never imagined."
She rejected the opponent's pity and narrowed her eyes. "…do you believe in Destiny?" she asked with a tightening throat.
The woman just smirked as she stepped back and drew her bow for one final time. "Yes."
And from there the floodgates well and truly opened, and who she'd been before came pouring into her mind. It was nearly overwhelming, and it felt like she was going to drown so far from the sea, but she steadied her footing and willed her hands to stop shaking. She didn't know how it was possible…or why…but in that moment, she understood one thing.
She had never been a Matoran before becoming a Toa.
She had once been so much more.
The five Makuta finally stepped through the molten hole in the gate, annoyance building in their eyes before they fell upon her. Three pairs of crimson daggers widened in shock, another narrowed even further, and the last pair seemed to hold amusement and intrigue more than fear.
"Well well well…" drawled the foremost shadowy figure. "Seems this village isn't completely defenseless, after all."
The Toa barely wavered as she drew her spear and shield, willing her sword to float nearby under her power. "Your reign of terror stops here, Makuta. This island is under my protection…you will not take another step on the face of Voya Nui. I will see to that myself."
A sharp laugh escaped the lead Makuta. "How very bold, little Toa. Your trick with the Rahkshi was impressive, I'll admit…but do you really think that one of you can stop all five of us?"
She answered with a chuckle of her own. "Five of you? I'm sorry…I only count four."
Before anyone else could make a move she pulsed her elemental power, gripping the mouthy Makuta's metal shell and ripping the arm out of his socket while barely even lifting a finger. Her opponent screamed in pain and rage as she yanked him closer, bringing him in range for her to lash out with a kick, a shield bash, and a spear thrust all in quick succession. He tried to retaliate with arching wing swipes and sharpened claws, but she deftly avoided all of them with moves that now felt extremely familiar, and it was that history of one-on-one battles that gave her the upper hand. The duel ended when she drove her spear into one knee, cut off the other arm with a toss of her shield, and grabbed the floating sword to slice the shadowy warrior from heel to helm as her mastery over metal tore him apart. A greenish gas floated and shrieked in the wind, before dispersing altogether.
The remaining Makuta stared at her, aghast, as she threw the pieces of their former leader at their feet. Then they all glared at her, before the angry one found his voice.
"…what are you?!"
She smirked behind her mask as her weapons returned to her hand.
"I am Pyrrha Nikos, Toa of Iron." Her words carried an undercurrent of certainty and promised violence. "Whatever you came here for…I'll make certain you never find it."
Another Makuta chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart, little Toa."
Pyrrha's smirk widened. "And I'm going to enjoy watching you try."
The Rahkshi screeched, the Makuta lunged, and Pyrrha met them all with the confidence and courage of a warrior of two worlds.
It had been two hours since the attack ended, and Jovan's worst fears had come to pass.
When he emerged ahead of the Matoran, who were all still diligently waiting in the caves, his heartstone shattered upon seeing the aftermath. The village he'd spent thousands of years helping build up had been reduced to scrap, torn apart by a mighty struggle. Dozens of yellow-armored Rahkshi lay dead at the village gate, along with the shattered forms of the slain Makuta. And the Toa of Iron herself was little more than a mangled heap in the corner, bolts of metal piercing her gut, her shoulder, and her heel. The lights in her eyes were as dim as the one on her chest, her armor was shattered and warped beyond recognition, and her crimson Hau had a large crack down the middle.
The battle had been brief, bloody, and yielded no victors.
Then again…what else was new on this Spirit-forsaken island?
A sound shifting behind him only stoked his anger like fuel emboldens a fire. "You two certainly picked a terrible time to disappear," he spat venomously. "Let me guess - Trinuma was throwing a Naming Day party and attendance was mandatory? Botar needed his fangs picked clean? Or perhaps some other group of Makuta was making a bid on some other Legendary Kanohi?"
"Watch your tone, elder," snarled Brutaka as he marched into view, the dimensional portal snapping shut behind him. "We were busy."
"Obviously," scoffed Jovan. "You probably just came back to check on the Mask of Life, huh? No need to worry about us - we're all just Matoran, after all."
The gold-and-blue titan raised his double-bladed staff, but Axonn gripped it and lowered the tip before looking sympathetically at Jovan.
"Your anger is justified, and your grief is valid," he said calmly. "But do not direct it at us. We were alerted to a disturbance with the Great Spirit himself - something has happened with his energies, and he seemed…more alert than he was before, if only for long enough to channel his power into something else. Or…someone else."
The Turaga of Magnetism blinked slowly, the realizations dawning on him.
"Guess that explains why the skies went darker earlier," he mused, "just like in the Great Cataclysm. And why the Brotherhood picked now of all times to swoop in for a visit - with you preoccupied, there would've been nothing to stop them from getting the Ignika. Nothing but her, that is."
Axonn's gaze finally fell on the shattered Toa. He wordlessly marched over and slung his axe across his back, gently scooping her into his arms and cradling her limp form. She seemed…so still. So peaceful. Even in death, a smile of a shadow still seemed to shine from beneath her broken mask.
"She still functions," intoned the silver-armored warrior after a moment. "Though the vibrations of her heartstone are faint, it still beats all the same. Her will to live is…rather impressive, especially considering her injuries. Botar."
Jovan wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to how a five-bio-tall titan of sinewy steel and muscle mass would just…appear when his name was spoken in a certain way, nor did he ever think he'd be able to look at the maskless face with a maw full of teeth as long as his forearm without shuddering. Axonn clearly had sturdier nerves than him, for he approached the teleporting being without a trace of fear.
"Take her back to Metru Nui for repair and study," intoned Axonn. "And take me with you, so that I may continue my investigation. Brutaka, you must remain here to guard the Kanohi Ignika…I fear this raiding party was only the beginning."
"Oh good," snarled his partner. "Because my day wasn't already going badly enough."
"We cannot afford to be picky in our Duty," chided the silver-armored warrior. "If the Great Spirit has truly weakened, then the Brotherhood will likely be more aggressive. One of us must remain here to protect the Mask of Life, no matter what. The other has to get to the bottom of this. I'll have Trinuma come and join you, once I am back at the Order's headquarters. For now…try to play nice. Whenever you're ready, Botar."
The toothy titan nodded and laid a hand on Axonn's shoulder, before the pair of them and the nameless Toa vanished without a trace.
"What should I tell my Matoran?" asked Jovan after a long and tense silence. "They will surely wish to know what happened to their friend."
Brutaka scowled as he walked away. "You're the Turaga here. Make up a legend that tells the story all nice and clean. Do your job, elder - and keep them away from Mount Valmai, so that we can do ours."
Letting out a sigh of frustration, the Turaga of Magnetism made his way back to his office, scooping up a piece of metal debris that could be shaped into a proper storytelling piece. His brow furrowed as he began spinning up a new tale, one that blended the truth of what had happened today with a story where darkness was always overcome by light. It wasn't much, and most of the Matoran here knew that reality was never that black and white…but it gave some small comfort all the same, and for now that was enough.
And so the tale of the Nameless Toa took root within his mind.
(A/N): *insert unholy screaming here*
Well! That was certainly a thing! Not sure if I'll be writing any more one-shots between this and the actual sequel itself (which I'm 90% sure I'm going to call Dutiful Destruction in the vein of last story's title), as I'll likely try to save my energy for working on the upcoming fic. I can't promise when it'll show up, or if any more of these will pop up to fill the gaps…but I guess we'll just have to find out!
In any case, hope you enjoyed! Stay safe, stay sane, keep being awesome, and I'll see you all next time!