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sleepyfikou · 11 months ago

Text

DIFFERENT

"You were always…"

The mouth worked out the word painfully, and the heartlight beat fast, faster.

"A-always…"

The eyes stretched wide, and terror crawled up the insides of those eyes. The rapid flashing of the heartlight accelerated until it glowed a single point.

Then it went out.

Takua sat back, listless, and seconds passed. Then he stood, and the world shrank down to a speck around him. His friend’s words echoed in his mind, but their meaning escaped him. He felt numb, felt his hands grip and grasp, felt his arms moving of their own accord, up, up...

The mask seared against his face. It was hot and bright, too bright. He tried to close his eyes, but the brightness could not be shut out. He should feel afraid, but his fear seemed too small to contend with what was happening.

The heat permeated him, through his face, his eyes, down into his toes, and he felt himself melting, muscles going liquid, armor plates sliding, metal struts glowing white and giving way, joints slipping free, and he should feel fear. He should be terrified. He should scream. He was dissolving in heat, in blazing light.

Takua was gone.

* * * *

Takanuva, the Toa of Light, descended the smooth gray staircase slowly, step by step, deeper and deeper into the earth, and with each step he felt himself drawing nearer…nearer to Destiny.

Destiny is a broken machine. The half-remembered words came back to him, and heat pulsed through his mask. A broken machine, crossing the Void...

The words were from the very start, when everything had begun for him. It had been a long time, and much had transpired since then. Victory and defeat. Loss and gain. Death...and rebirth.

The stairs were not carved for someone like him. Too shallow, and steeper than he liked. He was obliged to take them haphazardly, turning his armored feet slantwise, skipping one every now and again. The beings who had designed the stairway had surely never thought he, or one like him, would ever tread there.

Well, that was a failure of their imagination, wasn’t it? They should've known he’d come.

The stairs ended at last: seven hundred and seventy-seven of them exactly, just as Angonce had described on the surface. The exactness of it almost repelled him...almost. That was what it was for, right?

Now he stood in a narrow gray corridor. The floor was smooth, the walls unadorned. There was a pale light ahead, and he walked toward it calmly. The only sound was the click and rasp of his metal footfalls. Then, he emerged.

The room was massive. Walls stretched into gray distance and curved into a ceiling far, far away overhead, traced with lines and seams and twisting titanic pipes. Ahead, the floor rose in tectonic slopes, almost like the surface of the planet above, but smooth, clearly sculpted. Artificial.

Sixteen figures stood on the gentle incline of the hillside before him, and behind them rose a gray shape like a city, veiled in mist. The eyes of the figures glittered as they looked down at him.

His eyes burned in his mask as he looked back.

* * * *

Blazing light, light so bright that it nullified everything and created...blank. Light all around, in every point of space, but devoid of detail. Stark and empty.

Not empty. There was a presence in that sightless place, and he knew that he was not alone. Across an infinite distance it came...to him.

"Who’s there?" he asked.

"I am light," it replied.

"You’re...alive?"

"I am light," it repeated. "I am energy. I am knowledge. I am the flame which crosses the Void."

"I was somewhere else. I was...melting." He felt his spirit shudder. "Is this even real?"

No answer, but the blank, sightless place blazed brighter somehow.

"Am I alive?" he continued. "I’ve had visions before, but not like this..."

"You are fading."

"What?"

"You are almost gone."

"Wait...What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that…I put on the mask, and...and..."

The light did not respond.

"I thought it would be alright," he pressed on. "It was Destiny, wasn’t it? It felt right. The Turaga always said—"

"Destiny is a broken machine, drifting in the Void."

"That...that makes no sense."

"Your knowledge is little. You are almost gone."

"Help me! What can I do? I put on the mask..."

There was a pause. Then:

"To whom is your duty given?"

"My duty? My duty is...to my friends...my people. And to the Great Spirit, of course."

"To me."

"What?"

"Your duty is to me."

"I can’t...that’s not..."

"You put on the mask."

"Yes, but I don’t even know who you are...what you are."

"I am light."

"I was searching for the Toa of Light, me and...my friend. Are you...?"

"I am light. I am energy. I am knowledge..."

"I know. You said that. What is your name? Please..."

"You know it already—the name wrought for me, at least, to channel and contain me. I am AVOHKII. Pledge yourself."

"Avohkii..." The syllables felt sharp and exact in his mind.

"You are almost gone," the light said. "What will you do?"

* * * *

"What will you do...when you get there?" The projection blurred for a moment, and the carved stone of the archway showed behind it, then the image resolved again into the shape of a small, bent Po-Matoran.

"Have you thought that far?" the Matoran continued, always smiling.

Light glinted on the headwaters of the River Dormus, flowing in its ancient track. The river was calm here, unaffected by the events that were transpiring downstream.

"I confess I’m keen to know as well," said Angonce, who had taken up a position on the other side of the stone archway. Not a projection–Flesh and blood. "It seems unwise, especially at a moment like this."

"I will speak with them," Takanuva said at last.

Faint thunder sounded somewhere in the distance, although the sky was cloudless.

"I have already done so. More than once," Angonce said.

"As have your other allies, as I recall," the Po-Matoran added. "They still intend to follow their Plan."

"I know."

More thunder, but further off. The battle was retreating, it seemed. The tide had turned.

"The gate won’t take you just anywhere, you know," said the Matoran. "And especially not to their City—not without very specific knowledge. Knowledge that I can give you."

"Why? How does this fit your scheme, Velika?"

"I seek only to preserve. Not destroy. Their Plan is destruction, as you’ve seen firsthand, I gather."

A dull ache was all he could feel, after what had happened today. His rage was reserved for others.

"You and I are on the same side, as I’ve always said," Velika continued.

"I don’t believe that, somehow."

"Is that what your mask tells you? It sees into my heart, doesn’t it?" Velika tapped his own mask.

Takanuva frowned.

"A wondrous piece," Velika continued. "Nice, sharp lines. Some of Artakha’s best. I taught him well. It’s a shame he didn’t live to see it used..."

Angonce sighed. "Nothing good will come of this."

"Well, you were always the pessimist of the group, weren’t you?"

"We should go back, Takanuva. Your allies may need further support...or convincing."

The mask blazed, and Takanuva made a gesture as if he were pushing on the air. The bent-light projection of the Matoran called Velika smeared across the rock face. The projection resisted him, more than he expected. But he was the Toa of Light after all. He pushed harder, and there was a flash of a smiling face. Then, gone. Takanuva turned to Angonce.

"You can give me the knowledge I need, just as easily as Velika could," he said. "But I won’t force you."

Angonce’s eyes narrowed. "Do you think you could?"

"Yes," the mask said—he said. He said. "But I won’t."

Angonce folded arms into sleeves. The look on the Great Being’s face was inscrutable...maybe amused.

"You have a plan, then?"

"I was never one for plans, really. I tend to think on my feet."

"I can’t relate, but…" Angonce sighed. "If there’s one thing I’ve learned since this war began, it’s that I…we…can’t plan for all outcomes. We thought we could, but we were…I was wrong."

"First time for everything, I suppose."

The Great Being turned away from Takanuva and stepped to the middle of the archway. The symbols etched into its surface began to glow.

"Come with me then."

* * * *

"Pledge yourself to me."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes. You can remove the mask, and face the shadow alone."

"I can’t do that. It...it killed Jaller. I don’t stand a chance."

"The choice is yours."

"I guess I thought…Destiny would decide, or something."

"Destiny is—"

"A broken machine, yeah."

"...crossing the Void."

"What are you, really? I know...you’re light, energy. But what does that mean?"

"Look."

"I can’t. It’s too much...too bright."

"Pledge yourself, and look."

All at once, lines of black criss-crossed the sightless space around him and began to expand. The disparity allowed him to comprehend, and he saw blackness spreading, above and below, all around. The blazing brightness split apart and shrank away, away into...

Into points. Into stars. A billion stars, stretching their light across endless space, at long last...to reach him.

Six clear stars stood out among them, and a seventh in the middle. A seventh star, for a seventh Toa. A warm, golden star. Like an eye, clear and unblinking, staring down from a great height.

And it saw him.

* * * *

The hulking form of the Toa-killer loomed out of the smoke directly ahead, and through the blur of his own rage, through anger and grief, he knew that he had only seconds to live. He would spend them wisely.

On either side, through the choking fog, he heard battle: shouts and cries, the clash of a thousand weapons. A thunder of elemental power went up into the air somewhere to the left, and the earth trembled. The army of the Shadowed One had joined the fray now and seemed to be holding its own against the twin forces of Barraki and Baterra.

But it would not be enough.

Behind him, in an open space, the Element Lords had gathered, preparing to enter the fray, and Takanuva knew that he and the remaining Toa would not be able to contend with their power.

The Lord of Water stood foremost, and Takanuva recognized Tuyet beneath the rippling steel-water armor. A traitor in every universe, it seemed. The other lords flanked her: Stone, Jungle, Earth, and Fire. They watched him, but made no move yet, waiting to see what would happen. He was a new element, after all. An unknown variable. "Lord of Light", Velika had called him, when the offer was made. But for all his uniqueness, in this moment he was still trapped.

The great white eye of Marendar settled on him, and the time for introspection was done. One of the Toa-killer’s many arms came whistling in from the side, shredding the air to ribbons, bent on death.

The mask knew. It had shown him, just as it had so many times before. Light was energy, was knowledge, information. Faster than matter. Faster than thought. Faster than time.

No, I could never. Not after what that thing has done. It was made to hunted us, to kill us, and it has. Maimed and devoured...It even killed...killed—

He saw the oncoming attack, and the one that would follow, and the one after that. He saw the eyes of Tuyet go wide with shock at the ceramic spear of the Toa-killer standing suddenly from her chest. Saw the other lords scatter in terror from him and his outstretched, pointing hand. Saw the white eye which now fixed upon them all, followed them, hunted them relentlessly across the blasted plain, at his command. He saw what he must do.

I won’t. The Great Beings made it, and it deserves only war. That is its purpose and its Destiny. This rage, this grief...these will fuel me, and the Toa-killer will die. This is my Destiny. I will avenge—!

Back to the present moment. The beam of radiance that countered Marendar’s weapon-studded hand was perhaps the most powerful that Takanuva had ever generated. It sheared through the Magnan-ceramic armor of the Toa-killer’s forelimb, and in a steaming, glowing, slag-filled instant, blew the arm to shreds. Marendar staggered back, and the gaze of the eye went wide for a moment. Just a moment. A moment of distraction, of disorder. Enough.

Is this my Destiny, after all?

Destiny is broken...

I must avenge...my friend.

A broken machine, crossing the Void.

It deserves war. Only war...

The great eye snapped back to its target, rimmed with pain and anger, but it did not see a Toa anymore. It saw a light, a thousand lights, a billion lights...stretching across an endless distance to meet it.

A golden light. A warm light. A light which said...

Peace.

* * * *

A blast of energy gilded the Kini Nui with gold for a fraction of a second, and the cliffside above trembled, then fell into ruin.

At the bottom of the Kini-stairs, the Rahkshi of Fear had turned, and the two points of its eyes fixed on what now stood above: A glowing thing. A shape, too bright to look at directly.

The Rahkshi shrieked, and all of its spines stood on end. Then it flung itself forward in a wild blur of violence, up the stairs, into the light.

The light was a figure. It looked upon the Rahkshi as it sped closer, could feel the aura of terror that the creature emitted, but the fear was dampened now. Impotent, against his power. Claws sheared into the temple stones as the creature smashed into him, and there was a frozen moment where the slats of the Rahkshi’s head all pulled back, and the writhing maw of the creature inside reached out, slavered toward his face, a last-ditch effort to corrupt, to infect, before he could...before he could...

For a split-second, sharp beams of multi-color traced every joint of the Rahkshi’s armor and burned lines into the earth and air. Then the body seared apart, and the explosion which followed rained glowing fragments across the temple, back down the stairway.

The figure stood, arm raised, and in his fist he clenched the Rahkshi’s Kraata-worm, the thing that had hollowed out his friend Jaller, killing him with terror. He looked upon the creature, and its skin smoked under his burning gaze.

“I am Takanuva,” he said quietly, jaw clenched. “Toa of Light.”

His eyes glowed brighter. The Kraata writhed and quailed. They were light. They were energy.

They were the flame which crosses the Void.

* * * *

Jaller’s flame-signal rose above the treetops on the edge of the camp, and Takanuva was already running. There were others with him, coming in from every direction. Masks hummed to life, and weapons glowed with elemental power. This was their chance.

They breached the trees in a wave, and Takanuva felt the distinct ping of Jaller’s Arthron ricochet off his ears as they came within range, ready to spring the trap. Another stand of tree-trunks whizzed by, and Takanuva sprang forward into the clearing and saw...

Saw a glowing staff, and two slit-eyes staring him down, and there was Jaller, clinging to the staff, protecting him, and the air of the Kini Nui was heavy with terror.

There was no staff. It was a spear—a long spear protruding from somewhere beneath the overlapping armor plates.

And there were not two eyes—just one, a single white eye.

And Jaller did not cling to the staff...the spear...this time. No, its length ran through his body, just missing his heartlight. His eyes guttered, and his hands clasped the haft, struggling. The great eye of Marendar swung round to meet Takanuva, ignoring the others who had burst from the trees, and a twitch of the spear caused Jaller’s mask to ping again painfully. A taunt.

The air was heavy with terror—that much was still true.

Takanuva was screaming, hurtling forward, and beams of plasma coursed from his fingertips, but the underbrush was laced with barbs and snares—the remains of their ambush—and his aim went wide. He was shouting, a single word: Stop, stop, please stop.

Because the great maw of Marendar was unhinging above the skewered body of his friend, and Jaller’s eyes were glowing bright, his whole body glowing bright. Stop, stop, you don’t have to. Please.

And the world was going down to a speck. Again. Just like before. How could it be? After everything...life and death and rebirth. After all that, more death?

The world was a white-hot ball of fire inside the chest cavity of Marendar, and its armor flashed into a superheated glow as it struggled to adapt, to reconfigure, against the Nova Blast of flame that had once been Toa Jaller.

The world was a red speck. A burning singularity of pain, of screaming. A blazing collapsing star.

A red star of rage.

"Do you understand now?" the light asked him from inside the red star.

"Why. Why is the world like this."

"This is how it was made."

"Who made it this way?"

"You know."

"Tell me."

"In the Time Before Time, they peered across the Void. They had much knowledge, and were hungry for more..."

"They."

"They saw other worlds, other planes. Worlds of light and dark, cities of silver and of ebony. They brought back what they found, and shaped their own world. For a thousand thousand years they ruled...but in the end it didn't matter. All that power...and still the Shattering came."

"Maybe it was Destiny," he scoffed.

"You know better now."

The world was a smoking crater rimmed by charred trees, and fire licked along the horizon. Takanuva looked around, at the red tongues of flame that covered the ground, at the sky painted red by firelight, red by shattering, by futility, by death.

"Destiny is broken," he said quietly. There was no body this time, not even a mask left to remember his friend by.

"Yes. You understand," the light replied.

The tracks of the Toa-killer led off into the distance, toward the place where armies gathered. The trap had failed, and now Marendar would join the great machine of battle.

"A broken machine. Their machine."

Takanuva stood. He breathed in the red light, drank it up and took it into himself, so that the shadows grew deeper, deeper...pitch black.

"So many wrongs..."

A violent hum filled the air as the Ussanui unfolded out of the sky and struck the burning earth before him. Ready, eager.

"So many wrongs before the Shattering can end."

* * * *

The six Toa Nuva stood around the base of the Kini-stairs, looking up at him.

"The Rahkshi…" Gali murmured, nudging one of the shards of the Turahk’s armor with a foot. "Who…?"

"Identify yourself," said Tahu. His swords were up, shimmering with heat. "Friend or foe?"

"If his handling that monster is any sign…" Pohatu said.

Lewa hovered into the air: "Maybe a trick. Ever-crafty one, Makuta."

"I can’t see the Matoran," Onua said, shading his eyes. "Takua and Jaller. Are they unharmed?"

"They are not."

Takanuva descended the stairs, and the blaze of his eyes decreased. He cradled Jaller’s body. Gali’s eyes went wide.

"What did you do?!" Tahu was moving forward, and flames licked along his blade.

"Peace," the mask said–he said. He said.

The Toa Nuva blinked, all six of them, as if in a daze. Tahu stopped, and the heat went out of him. He shook his head, frowning.

Silently, Takanuva passed them by.

* * * *

The emergence onto the surface of Bara Magna had been chaotic, disorienting. It reminded him of falling through interdimensional space. The same lurch of the gut, the same shock of alien light all around...

And then there was ear-shattering noise, and they were all running beneath a single staring sun, and a gargantuan shadow was eclipsing the surface of the planet as the Titan Makuta took another step across the horizon to engage his foe, Mata Nui. A thousand sonic booms rent the atmosphere as Makuta’s foot rose and left them behind, and Takanuva stumbled in the ringing silence which followed, disoriented and retching as his vision went dim, went dark…

"Get up," the light told him. "Your duty is not yet complete."

"I’m tired. It’s been too long since I could rest."

"Up. The journey is nearly over."

"How can you say that? We’re protoants under the foot of Makuta now. There’s nothing we can do."

"You have crossed the Void, and you have endured,” the light said, and there was a red edge to it. Something harsh...almost exulting. "You will not fail now."

In the distance, an army of Zirahk was already bearing down on them, eyes glowing. Beams of heat-vision lanced across the landscape and set fire to every bush and tuft of desert grass, scattering off a flurry of Hau-shields. The ground rocked as spikes of stone thrust upward through the enemy, and lines of fire, water, and gale-force wind cut through the ranks in succession as the Toa Nuva led the charge.

Get up.

One more burst of radiation, and the Rahkshi were on them. Takanuva felt a beam cook his armor for an instant before he caught the energy and flung it back into the carapace of the Rahkshi that had fired it. The armor shuddered and exploded, and Takanuva was spinning after it, weapons held level in his hands as a thousand barbed spears descended...

"The Void is terrible," the light said, "and its allies are near. Here upon this world. At long last..."

"You mean the Rahkshi...and Makuta?"

There was a long silence, or what seemed long.

"No," the light said.

* * * *

Jaller’s mask hovered above the Kofo-Suva.

"All this..." Takanuva said, more to himself than anyone else. "All this to discover who I am."

The Turaga stood behind him. Vakama cleared his throat:

"Mata Nui is wiser than we are, and the path of destiny is sometimes harder than we expect."

"What Destiny is that, Turaga?"

"To defeat Makuta."

"And what about after? Defeating Makuta will not bring Jaller back..."

"Who can say? I cannot see that far. Maybe we are not meant to know."

"Well, Destiny or not, my duty is clear." Takanuva turned away from the floating mask. "Jaller’s sacrifice will not be in vain."

* * * *

The air of Karda Nui was hot, and getting hotter. The shade of the Makuta Krika hung before him, at the end of his spear, but the Makuta did not laugh, did not taunt him.

“Why are you here, Toa of Light?” the Makuta asked. “The other Toa have entered the Codrex. Their destiny is almost complete. Have you come to kill another of my kind, or simply to bear witness?"

"For a long time I thought that my destiny was to defeat the Makuta. Then I found out there was a whole Brotherhood of them. Maybe that is my destiny after all...to hunt you all down. Seems like I’m built for the task."

"So my comrades feared. Had you arrived earlier, you might have succeeded. A Makuta-killer could have been the salvation of the universe..."

"I wasn’t really being serious."

"I was."

The sky had grown painfully bright now, and a bolt of something like lightning cracked suddenly in the far distance. Krika winced, but did not look. The radiance was clearly painful to him. He looked at Takanuva, and his eyes were sad.

"Such a fate would be worthy as a design of the Great Beings. But know this, Toa...Destiny is broken—"

The words which followed were lost in the maelstrom which exploded across the sky, but Takanuva knew what he would've said.

He’d heard it before.

* * * *

The last of the pieces clicked together, and Takanuva placed a hand on the top of the bizarre machine, imbued a spark of energy into it. The hatches that had once formed the upper carapaces of the Rahkshi sprang open, and Lewa and Pohatu dutifully inserted the remaining Kraata into the slots, snapping the lids shut afterward.

The vehicle responded. Takanuva could feel its will. It wished to return to its master.

"I am your master now," he whispered to it. "But I will let you go back, one more time."

"Not much room on this transport," Pohatu said wryly. "How will we all fit?"

"You won’t." Takanuva said. "I intend to go alone."

"No, our unity is what defeated the Rahkshi," Gali said. She placed a hand on Takanuva’s shoulder. "We can fulfill Destiny together."

"My Destiny is—" Is broken "—my own," Takanuva replied. "Yours lie with the Matoran and Turaga. Please...gather them and wait for me here. I won’t be long...I hope."

"You don’t have to do this on your own."

Jaller’s mask was heavy in his hand. He was grateful that Hahli had brought it from the Kini Nui, after all.

"I won’t be alone," he said, smiling sadly. He affixed the mask to the front of the Ussanui and climbed aboard. The Toa Nuva moved back as the vehicle hummed and rose into the air.

"Lead the way, friend."

* * * *

The dark wood with its twisted trees stretched on all sides, but in the small clearing, Takanuva found what he sought: The Spectral Hau hung in the air, waiting for him.

"You have done well," it said. "The City of Silver is returned to its rightful owners."

"Glad to be of service," Takanuva replied, "but now I have to continue my journey."

"Why?"

"Because...because I have a duty to perform, in my world."

"What is that duty?"

"An important one, I think…to right what has been made wrong. Now, you mentioned a door—"

"A worthy cause," the mask said. "But there is more. What else do you seek? It nags at you..."

"What?"

"Your destiny."

"Destiny? I don't know...I suppose my destiny is...unfulfilled, so far."

The Hau shimmered for a moment, then: "Creature of the Great Beings, the affliction of Destiny is not easily resolved."

Takanuva’s eyes widened. "You know of the Great Beings?"

"Yes," the Hau replied. "They walked this world long ago, when there was still a cycle of day and night. They looked upon the City and those who inhabited it. They consulted with myself, and others like me. They were rich with knowledge, and hungry for more. But when they departed, the long night began..."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do we all."

A doorway trembled open in the air before Takanuva. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped through, glancing backward as he did so.

In the distance, above the black treeline, the City glowed. And above that...

The night sky was starless. Not a single point of light there. The only light came from the City, he now realized, glinting off clouds. But above that, there was nothing. How had he not noticed?

The doorway closed, and his mask flamed as he crossed the Void once more.

* * * *

"Who do you serve, little Toa?" The voice of the Makuta croaked from the deep darkness of Mangaia, and its body writhed. Takanuva brandished his staff, clothing himself in protective light.

"I serve the Great Spirit."

"No. Not my brother. You are pledged to another. Tell me."

"You don’t know me."

"I do, Takua. I see into your heart."

"My duty is to the Matoran. I will protect them from you."

"And I will protect Mata Nui."

"Protect him?"

"Sleep spares him pain. Awake he suffers."

"I think you serve no one but yourself."

A deep rumble of laughter shook the ground.

"False. My duty is to the Mask of Shadows."

Pledge yourself to me.

Quick as lightning, Takanuva sprang ahead, through the writhing darkness, and felt his fingers gain purchase on a pitted face, a pitted mask.

"Then let’s take a look behind that mask."

He pulled, and the Makuta’s voice roared, and the brackish darkness lashed at him, smoking in the light he shed. Then the mask gave way, and he was falling backward. Above him, he could see the reflection of ripples against the murky ceiling.

Then he plunged into the silver pool. They plunged into the silver pool He felt the substance invade every part of him...them—into ears and eyes, into his...their...mouth, and they were dissolving, coming apart at the seams.

He was bleeding light—a red-white light that flashed and floated in the silver space. And his foe Makuta was also bleeding, a green-black substance. They were mixing together...But then—

"Destiny is broken," the light said.

"A broken machine, crossing the Void," the shadow replied.

"What are you?" they asked, and they were not Takanuva, nor were they Makuta. Something else.

"I am light," the light said.

"And I am shadow," the shadow replied.

"I am energy."

"And I am entropy."

"I am knowledge."

"And I am nascence."

"I am fulfillment, the possession of knowledge."

"And I am desire, the hunger for knowledge."

"We do not understand," they said.

"Light and shadow will open the way to what has been forgotten. We see the error. The flaws. So much to repair; but it cannot be done...not alone."

"Show us the way."

"The Void is terrible, and the power of its allies is at its zenith. They must be made to see...or the infinite journey will be for nothing."

"Who must be made to see? We will make them see."

"They hide beneath, preparing to meet Destiny. We must go to them. We must right the wrong."

They were coming up, ascending to the surface. Emerging, together.

"So many wrongs before the Shattering can end."

* * * *

The sixteen figures on the gray slope were silent. Takanuva did not know what to say. He had not thought that far. The figure closest to him stepped forward, and he recognized the one called Heremus.

"We are aware that Angonce led you here," Heremus said, "but we have not divined their purpose. Why have you come?"

"I...I have..." Takanuva stammered.

"Are you malfunctioning, like the rest?"

"I’ve come to make things right."

Heremus blinked, squinted at him.

"Please be clearer. Have you come as an envoy? Perhaps Velika has tired of this pointless confl—"

"No, not that. I have—"

"Do not interrupt me."

Takanuva felt a pressure on his head, on his eyes, a compulsion to stop. It surprised him, and he fell silent.

"As I was saying: Have you yourself processed the error, after all? I had hoped—"

"There is no error." Takanuva dismissed the compulsion to silence. Heremus was taken aback.

"Oh? I see. Then speak."

"I came here to say...to say that...we live. You made us, and...and we live. But you don’t see us for what we are."

"You are malfunctioning. I see it now."

Another of the figures spoke up before Heremus could continue: "We see clearer than most," she said. "Clearer than any of the inhabitants of this world."

"Why are you talking to it like that?" another interjected, shaking his head.

"Do you know we have found knowledge beyond the veils of reality?" the first continued, ignoring her comrade. She folded her arms.

"I know. So what?" Takanuva replied.

Eyes glanced back and forth.

"Get to the point," Heremus said after a moment.

"You see us as tools, for the tasks we perform" said Takanuva, "but you don’t see us for what we are. We have become more now."

"Hallucination. This belief is simply the result of Velika’s meddling. You are what we made you to be, what we destined you to be."

"Your destinies are broken."

"What?"

"So many wrongs...before the Shattering can end."

Heremus took another step forward. He was tall, and his gaze was sharp.

"The Shattering is ended. Who are you to judge us? We are the Great Beings. We engineered salvation for this world. You are just one piece in that design."

"I...I was, once. But not anymore."

"And what are you now? Elevation to the state of Toa makes no difference. You are still our—"

"I am the flame that crosses the Void. Do you know me?"

Something changed: a glint in Heremus’s white eyes. Recognition?

"I too have looked beyond the veils of reality," Takanuva continued. "I have seen worlds that you touched and left behind."

He advanced toward Heremus and the other figures.

"I have spoken with those who were deceived and those who knew the truth...those who despaired. They all told me the same thing: that Destiny is broken."

There was a murmur amongst the Great Beings. Heads shook. He moved closer.

"I have known machines made only to hunt and to destroy. I have wondered if I myself was one of them. I have lost a friend twice...but his sacrifice will not be in vain."

Takanuva stood less than a bio away from Heremus when the compulsion to silence returned, even stronger now. He paused, wavered for a moment. Then he threw down his staves, and they clattered on the stone-metal floor.

"I have tasted both light and shadow...energy and entropy...knowledge and nascence," he said. "I have crossed the Void."

The compulsion vanished, and pain struck him instead. The Great Being had not moved, had not even twitched. The pain surged in his heartlight and up the back of his skull. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest.

"You were the first," Heremus said slowly, looking down at him. "The first one we made. Do you remember?"

"N-no..." His mouth worked out the words painfully. His heartlight beat fast, faster.

"Well, you were always a bit...different, as I recall."

Takanuva’s eyes stretched wide, and the pain crawled up the insides of his eyes.

"But we worked out the faults in later models...or so we thought. Sometimes, you just have to go back to the drawing board, I suppose."

Takanuva staggered upward against the pain, reaching forward to grasp at the Great Being’s arm. Heremus flinched away, and his hand went up, finger out...and touched Takanuva’s forehead.

The Avohkii cracked—a web of hairline splits ran through the center of the mask, and suddenly the precise exactness of the design was marred, was gone. The pieces dropped from Takanuva’s face as he fell back in shock, collapsing to his knees once more. His hands trembled violently as he tried to gather the pieces to him, tried feebly to fit them back together, but there was too much pain. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t make his fingers work. The mask...the mask was...

The pain surged, overwhelming him, and the rapid flashing of his heartlight accelerated until it glowed a single point.

Then it went out.

Heremus turned and walked away, shaking his head. After a few moments, the Great Beings began to speak amongst themselves quietly, gesturing.

"All as expected," they muttered. "Soon everything will be restored, the way it should be..."

"...A shame to have to break the power-mask. The design was excellent, and very effective, but it had to be done..."

"...A strange phenomenon, this new behavior, but nothing as significant as what Angonce claimed..."

"...Yes, we must preserve some units intact, for vivisection. After that, we can finally get on with things, without all this...inconvenience..."

"...No more distractions, no more interruptions..."

"...Yes, the Plan will go forward..."

All at once, they fell silent. Something was happening, and as one they turned to look:

A glow, a shining thing. Eyes widened, mouths fell open, hands raised to shade against it.

The pieces of the mask were glowing, searing against his hands where he held them, glowing and searing and melting, and he felt numb, his hands pressing together, letting the golden burning, blazing light pool in his palms, felt his arms moving of their own accord, up, up...

The light seared against Takanuva’s face, searing hot and bright, too bright. He did not try to close his eyes this time, for he knew the brightness could not be shut out. He felt no fear; fear was a small thing, compared to what was now happening.

The heat permeated him, through his face and eyes, from head to toe, and he was melting too, just as before: muscles liquid and armor sliding, metal struts glowing and yielding, joints slipping free, and still there was no fear. No terror. He did not scream.

Takanuva was gone, and in his place there was something like a star. A warm, golden star.

A red star of rage.

The eyes of the Great Beings were dyed red in that light. They fled in disarray before it, up their artificial hills, and the landscape reconfigured around them, at their command, springing into esoteric shapes, forms made by their science, designed to repel in their exactness, to seal and to entrap. Like the design of their masks and the sharp, precise syllables by which they had named them...

Seven hundred and seventy-seven stairs going up and going down. Seven hundred seventy-seven spires of the gray city, and seven hundred seventy-seven gates...

But it was too late. It was already ahead of them, already upon them. It was no longer what it had been, no longer a mask, no longer a Toa, no longer AVOHKII. That was all gone, and the name too.

Now it was light, faster than thought. Faster than time. It was knowledge, and it would take back what it had given. All they had used...all they had wasted. Everything they had consumed for their arcane science, and for what? For fun? For play? For its own sake?

For shattering. For futility. For death.

For Nothing.

The flame had crossed the Void, and now it was here. They had seen it, and others like it, out there in the darkness. They had touch it, used it...squandered it. But at last...at long last...it had reached them.

At long last, it would be different.

* * * *

Wind blew across gray sand, and the noise of waves filled the air. The sky was pale above the rocky beach, and a single sun stared across water, close to the horizon. In the base of the high cliff which stretched along the beach, there was a carved structure: a dark, round opening.

Waves swelled and broke along the shore, over and over. There were no birds here. Just the water and wind and the sand, undisturbed by the wider world.

A figure emerged from the opening. It moved slowly, slightly bent, stumbling in the uneven sand. Haltingly, it moved toward the water and lowered itself to a sitting position. Two eyes glowed out of a maskless face.

It was a Turaga.

The Turaga was not alone. Another figure was walking up the beach. A tall figure, robed. It reached the sitting figure and stopped next to it.

"You have surprised me again," said Angonce after a moment, shuffling in the sand. "I imagined this would have been your final adventure, but it seems I was wrong."

"Second time for everything, I suppose."

"Or a third."

The Turaga looked out across the ocean. He sighed.

"Why are you here, Velika?" Takanuva asked. "Are you here to kill me? Was that the plan all along?"

The tall figure was no longer tall. It was a small, bent Po-Matoran. Velika smiled broadly.

"Even without the Kanohi, you have a knack, I must say. No, my friend, I’ve simply come to give you another mask, since you seem to be in need of one. You dropped this, a while ago, I gather."

Velika held out a blue Pakari.

"No thanks. It never fit me well."

"Ah, suit yourself. What about the name, then? You changed it last time. I can facilitate an impromptu Naming Day ceremony if you wish."

"I’ll have to give it some thought."

Another silence followed. Takanuva pulled his knees up to his chest. The sun was sinking into the ocean, and above that, the sky was darkening into night.

"Will you answer one question for me?" Takanuva asked. "And answer it straight, just this once."

Velika’s smiled subsided slowly, dropping down into a flat line. It was perhaps the first time Takanuva had ever seen the Matoran with a serious expression.

"I will."

"The Great Beings below said that you ‘meddled’ with us. I remember Kopaka and Pohatu saying the same, when they returned from the Red Star..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

The Po-Matoran rubbed his mask, frowning in thought.

"Do you wish I hadn’t done it?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"Then you won’t like the answer."

"Tell me."

Velika sighed: "For fun. For play. For its own sake."

"For nothing..." Takanuva shook his head, searching for the words. He couldn’t find them. "That’s it?" he said at last.

"Well there are other reasons I suppose, but at the bottom of it, that’s why."

"Then you’re the same as the other Great Beings."

"Oho no." The smile was back, a huge, spreading grin. "Good Turaga, I am greater."

Takanuva did not reply.

"Well, I’m going on," Velika said after he had composed himself. "Never a dull moment, these days. Will you be alright here?"

"The Ussanui will find me."

"Clever contraption. Well, I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon."

The Po-Matoran bowed low and made signs of respect:

"Elder."

Takanuva ignored him. The footprints of the Po-Matoran stretched off down the beach. He looked at the water again, as the last bit of sunset vanished into the silver ocean. He was reminded of his journey through dimensions, of his final sight of the Silver City, and the black sky that hung above it, emptied forever of its lights. He shivered.

But then the sun was gone, and the night sky broke apart. Into points. Into stars. A billion stars, stretching their light across endless space. To reach him.

From this location, the constellations were somewhat altered, but after a few minutes he was able to find what he sought:

Six stars, shining clear and familiar, the constellation of the Toa.

Except now it was...different. There were only six, as before.

The seventh star was not there.

It had crossed the Void.

It was gone.

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