To End A War
In all his years of exploring, the great Shu-Tural had never encountered anything quite like this. He’d seen mere hatred and prejudice before, but no… this was something else. Something new. He could feel it in the air. Since the war had begun, quite a few avenues for exciting excursions had been terminated, of course, but Shu hadn’t been deterred. He’d never let something as trivial as that stop him before.
But now, no matter where he went, any nation’s civilization other than Kothe’s would aggressively eject or even attack him, labelling him as (among other things he dared not repeat) a Kona spy. Sure, some extremely paranoid outliers may have done this in the past, but most quite rationally realized that the energetic, eccentric explorer meant them no harm at all.
So what happened?
Shu wasn’t sure. But now what looked like the entirety of Onura, Tayru, and Galis were gathering in one spot, and his curiosity overcame his pacifism. Every fiber of his being was telling him that something important was happening, and that he had to be here and witness it.
And so, the great Shu-Tural watched, and waited.
It was common military knowledge that fighting a war on two fronts was far from ideal. Suicidal, even. Maerkon had seen firsthand exactly why this was the case, flanking enemies or even coordinating with the Kona army to outwit and outmatch his opponents. All this left him quite confused as to why he had chosen to do such a thing on purpose.
His signature armor protected him from yet another wave of Tay projectiles, scattering the arrows among his own forces. Galis shieldmen proudly flanked him, pushing the Tay skirmishers back. He swung his own axe, scattering the line before him. They’d be back; he had Clove to thank for that. Just as promised, the enemy forces seemed determined to throw their lives away. Friana’s traps had managed to spread the Tay army out, meaning the battle was only getting bigger from here. It didn’t help that he couldn’t kill the matoran, a detail that the Galin army had been oddly compliant with… Maerkon swung again, noticing a mask he had knocked down at least three times previously. His army would have been decimated if not for a slow and steady retreat.
“Maerkon!” he could hear a matoran call from behind him; Saburo, he believed. “Sir, the Onu are attacking!” The Toa let out a half-growled curse and one last swing of his axe before extracting himself from the line.
“Saburo, hold the line!” he roared, trading positions with the faithful commander. “Rear line, to me! Push back!” The battle lines were already forming, pockets of off-sides soldiers becoming encircled and slaughtered. He watched, his expression grim as a haze of blue and purple elemental energy rose above the fighting.
“Don’t kill them!” he called in vain. His axe finally joined the fray, sweeping aside a group of Onu soldiers. This battle was madness. He could only brace himself for the approach of the other two armies.
On Borrara’s border with the Spine, just within the safety of the trees, the Poisoners gathered their forces together in preparation to march into battle and clean up the enemy armies clashing on the Spine - once they’d worn each-other down for them, as per Clove’s orders. Everyone had arrived, on schedule. Perfect. They would be ready mobilize soon.
Clonk!
The soldier grunted in surprise, looking around her to see where whatever hit her came from… or where it landed - she looked down. A nut? Huh. Didn’t know there were any of those growing around here, or this big… Wait a second.
Suddenly a hail of these odd projectiles started raining down upon them, angered clamouring erupting from their ranks as they attempted to shelter themselves from them with their arms or their shield (if they had one). Those on the outskirts started to break rank to get out of the worst of it, others pushing and shoving to do the same. Regardless, most eyes travelled upwards as they did what they could to ward away the painful and distracting barrage, scanning the canopy for the culprits.
They seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, darting from branch to branch, the Borran army barely able to think over the sound and sensation of being pummelled with these crude missiles - seemingly by their own kind: fellow Borran.
“BACK AWAY!” A warrior yells, advancing towards one of the trees housing their tormentors, shoving others out of his way as he made his path, his comrades quick to heed his words. He looked very heavily modified, with some kind of significant ability - it would do best to stand back and let him do his work.
He thrust his palms into the bark, rot and decay slowly spreading through the tree as he sucked away its life-force. The wood started to creak and groan under the strain of holding itself up, the modded Borran taking even more hits as their treebound ambushers desperately tried to stop him. Those in the tree scrambled to escape, but before anyone knew it the great thing was crashing down, taking most of its passengers screaming to their deaths in a burst of green light. In an instant, they’d lost the upper hand.
Vineon’s strike team started to panic, turning tail or redoubling their efforts, even as their bane made his way to the next tree…
Karz, Karz, Karz! No!
As Vineon swung his way through the canopy towards the growing carnage of felled trees and flashes of green, his mind continued to go into overdrive, every worst scenario flashing through his head.
Not like this! I won’t let you die like this, Karz it!
He had been keeping a safe distance, so as not to give away their plan too early, but it instead might have spelled their doom.
I know I shouldn’t have dragged them into this! It was my fight, not theirs! You stupid Karzing idiot Vineon! You wanted to be the great friggin’ hero, didn’t you!? Give them all a big speech and inspire people completely uninvolved into dying for the “greater good” or some stupid sentimental crap like that, and now they’re gonna-
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
From his vantage point Vineon could see it in all its terrible detail: an utter disaster, all his men dead or fleeing - all because he hadn’t been there when they needed him.
The Poisoners looked up in alarm to his piercing outburst, panic rising now among them, too.
“THAT’S RIGHT! YOU SHOULD BE KARZING SCARED! YOU JUST KILLED MY SQUAD, AND NOW I WILL KILL. YOU. ALL!” He bellowed, leaping down from his tree, crashing down to the ground, newly-grown vines and other vegetation breaking his fall. He would be on them in an instant. They wouldn’t even be able to run in time.
“YOU’VE TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME YOU KARZING SCUM, AND NOW I’M GONNA TAKE IT ALL FROM YOU TOO, DO YOU HEAR ME!? YOU BETTER HAVE MADE YOUR PEACE, YOU HEARTLESS PIECES OF FILTH, BECAUSE THEY WON’T FIND ENOUGH LEFT TO KARZING BURY!” He howled, the very forest itself coming down upon them, the bodies of the trees themselves smashing down and crushing some flat, branches clawing further forward and mauling those that couldn’t be reached by that alone. Barbed vines and roots burst out of the ground too, tearing those unlucky enough to shreds. The slaughter however was near-obscured by the practical cloud of green elemental energy, and while their blood-curdling screams of agony echoed for miles around them, somehow the din of pain and fear was still overwhelmed by Vineon’s own roars of anger, grief and regret.
Four Kona fell to Yeela’s blades before the army managed to react. The serrated daggers returned to her with a flick of her wrist, followed by trails of ichor and elemental energy. She paused, letting them scamper about in an attempt to find some sort of formation. It would be easier to kill them this way, sure, but she supposed that was the point. It wasn’t like it would save them anyway.
She lashed out again, a serrated sword spinning towards one flank while she sent a pair of maces flying into the other. The remaining members of the line tried to charge her, and were met with a storm of jagged daggers. One more enterprising Kona raised his spear, throwing it full on at the Toa’s mask. Her hammer split the offending weapon with a satisfying crack, and she turned to level a cool eye on the Kona in question. The matoran stumbled, turning to run back toward his comrades-
And running face-first into one of her flying maces, the weapon sending the soldier pinwheeling through the air. An axe passed him going the other way, slashing clean through another Kona’s arm before vanishing from sight.
“Stand fast!” one of the other Kona screamed (judging from the distance and shrillness, one of the commander-types). “Form up and prepare for another assault! The Knight cannot defeat all the might of Kona singlehandedly!” A few of the matoran cheered raggedly, but most remained silent, weapons leveled at Yeela as the two sides faced each-other down. A terrible calm reigned over the battlefield, the Toa of Earth’s green eyes staring unyieldingly into the shaking, unsteady yellow eyes of the many Kona soldiers. She folded her hands, daggers and maces floating in a lazy arc around the Toa.
“You know,” Yeela began, talking slowly, “I’m not supposed to let you pass, obviously. Something about saving you ungrateful wretches from each other and your collective stupidity.” She took a step forward, her weapons beginning to spiral outward. “You might have already guessed it, but I’m not exactly inclined to do that. I’m a bit less inclined to save you…”
Yeela bared her teeth in a smile, a cold and empty one. “…and a bit more inclined to save the other armies the trouble of finishing you off. You’ve earned this. More than any of them.”
The Kona ranks began to weaken, some of the soldiers at the outermost edges pulling back as the front-runners stalled in their tracks. The shrill-voiced commander piped up again, yelling something about “advance for the glory of the Kona, strike down the enemy”. No one moved, the commander’s shrieks going unnoticed and unheard.
For a moment, Yeela thought they had listened. Maybe they would pull back, run off back to whatever miserable hole they called home. Save her the energy of ridding the island of these vile, abhorrent, irredeemable creature-
Her thoughts splintered, as the sound of more weapons whistling through the air reached her ears. Yeela crossed her arms (more a reflexive gesture than anything else), the daggers and maces whipping to and fro with wicked force. A volley of five spears, aimed for her head, crashed against her “puppet” weapons, falling to literal pieces from the assault. The Earth Toa looked down at the ruins of the weapons, noticing from the corner of her eye the two different groups of Kona, running to the left and right of the clearing and making to circle around her. Whether it was to run past, and set up to fight the other armies, or to try some ludicrous attack from behind, it mattered little.
Yeela felt her control of the situation slipping away, like water down a drain, as her teeth began to grind against each other. Her hands clenched into iron fists, her entire body beginning to slightly shake now.
The ground shook too, her power seeping into the earth itself as the Kona ranks and their ambush teams began to back away once again, fear shining in their eyes. The Toa of Earth raised her hands, the maces and daggers beginning to spin once again, small cracks starting to open in the ground around her.
“You never understood when to leave well enough alone, did you now? Kona vermin,” Yeela spat, her vision swimming as her anger grew yet more overwhelming. “You never could run away from a fight.”
“Good.”
The ground shook yet more, as Yeela raised her hands, her weapons spinning orbs of death circling her. The Kona before her shivered, bracing for a charge even as the ones to either side ran at her. The Toa bared her teeth, and smiled yet again.
“Because now, I won’t either.”
As the two Toa overlooked the seemingly inconspicuous cave-entrance, Grillon found himself doubting his decision. Could he really trust her? Or was this just some kind of trap? He quickly ripped his mind away from those thoughts.
What could she hope to gain from that? What would be the point? Why help me escape just to get me captured again? And besides… she’s my friend… right?
No. He couldn’t doubt Kerila now. Where they were going, they needed to have absolute trust in each-other: the heart of the operations of the Sons of the Eternal - the main base of the Heralds, hidden away in one of the many caves littering the Spine. From what Kerila understood, the Heralds were working on something, some kind of device that required the energy of a starfall to activate. It was too late for them to really do anything about the battle on the Spine, but if they could sabotage the device or destroy it somehow…
That was the idea anyway. They didn’t even have any guarantee that it was here, but it was their main base, and the only one to Kerila’s knowledge that she hadn’t seen inside. It was hardly ideal, but it was likely their best option. Of course, being their main base, and being the possible location of the Heralds’ whole objective, it would undoubtedly be heavily guarded.
“I’m ready when you are.” She whispered to him, “We don’t have all day, though.”
Grillon was not exactly in fighting condition, but he’d be sent to Karzahni before he let her do this alone. Grillon gave a curt nod, “Let’s go.”
And with that, they entered the cave, cautiously. Nobody so far of course. They travelled a small ways down until they reached a fairly bare and somewhat flat, though normal-looking, wall. Kerila started tapping around the wall for the trigger of the secret door, and within a few moments the door silently slid open, revealing the true entrance to the base.
The passageway was large, large enough to admit the massive frame of the Dyn, at least. It was also far more clearly cut, perfectly geometric, and lit periodically - clinically - with lightstones, in a way that minimised their usage to provide the minimum required light to see. It was somehow more unnerving to Grillon than the sinister decorum of the last evil organization’s base that they’d snuck through.
“I’ll scout up ahead and let you know if and when we’re clear.” Kerila murmured to him. Grillon only gave another nod in reply, and she darted down the passage.
After a tense minute, she returned with the all clear, and the pair descended into the dimly-lit corridor.
One of the few holding their own well against Vineon’s assault was the modded Borran who started this in the first place, able to avoid the falling of the trees in time and ward off other attacks quite well with his power, the plants withering away and dying before they could do anything. Vineon growls in frustration, concentrating his attacks upon him in the midst of the other carnage and chaos being caused around him practically subconsciously now. Stubbornly, the brave Bo-matoran warrior continued to defend himself from Vineon’s onslaught of vines, roots and other vegetation bearing sharp pointy things.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a bolt of lightning lanced horizontally across the battlefield and fried the matoran, screaming and thrashing for a moment before dropping to the ground, armour still crackling softly from the charge as a small flash of green light erupted from his corpse. Vineon turned towards the direction of the attack - it couldn’t have been anything other than an attack - and saw that the culprit stood there was a newcomer. His armour was a muted scheme of silvers, coppers, tans and browns - decidedly steampunk in style, with small sparks of energy crackling over his form.
After getting over his initial surprise, he growled over to him: “Excuse me, Zaptastic, I’m trying to murder people here! Can you buzz off somewhere else?”
“What, you think I’m going to listen to you?” The strange, large newcomer spat, “I already have to listen to Antroz, and Icarax, and Vamprah… ‘Chirox do this! Chirox do that! Chirox, do something with your worthless life!’” And with that, fired two more lightning bolts towards the Ironwood Knight.