Part 9 - "THE LORDS"
Aero City was dark in minutes. Orano had never seen the sky so smothered with clouds. Every few seconds, multi-colored lightning would spark and give Orano a moment of vision, but the streets were filled with a thick fog. He could see the shapes of buildings, great shadowy peaks in the fog, but, as far as he could tell, there was no one in the streets, which were cracked into great chunks. Deep, violent tremors in the earth occured as frequently as the lightning. Orano’s home was being torn apart.
I need to see what’s happening, he thought. He fired up his rockets and launched himself upwards. He rose up and up, trying to get above the fog, but it kept going. When it finally broke, he was nearly at the same height as the Iron Mountains. He looked down, and his core sank. The entire city was gone, absorbed into a thick black dome of smoke-like clouds. He couldn’t see anything but the swirling, choking black storm within which his city lay.
One of the rockets puffed, and Orano sank a little. He must be running out of fuel! He began to lower himself, cutting off the rockets for seconds at a time, before releasing quick bursts to slow his fall. In moments, he was back in the storm. Hail struck his plating, flying horizontally through the air at terrible speed. The storm was getting worse and worse.
A crash of lightning startled Orano, and he plummeted a little further than he meant to. He screamed, but caught himself with another blast from his rockets before he fell onto a nearby skyscraper. He lowered himself further down, towards where he believed the street to be. Another strike of lightning, and, for a moment, he thought he could see a shape just a ways below him.
“H-Hey!” he called out. He hoped his voice would carry over the wind. “Hey! Down-n th-there!”
Lightning crashed again, and the shape was immediately below him, with furious green eyes staring into his.
“Oh n-no,” he groaned.
“That’s right,” the Dark Wind said, as she rose up towards him. She grabbed him by the neck, and he hung in midair. She was different, now. Solidified. Her appearance was sharper, like mist poured into a mold. Not to mention the arcs of emerald lightning that spiraled through her form. “What did you expect to accomplish, coming here alone?”
Orano reached for her wrist to hold himself up, but his hands slipped through her, as if she was nothing more than air. He shivered.
“It’s not even fun anymore,” she said. “Mocking you, it’s just… redundant, now. I don’t think I can make a joke out of you near as well as you can. You and your little band, who happens to be quite absent at the moment.’
“They’re o-o-on their w-way.” They were, right? It may take them a while, but surely, they would arrive before-
“I would like to say that we have a lot in common.” Those emerald eyes, unblinking, unrelenting. Orano couldn’t look away, as much as his fear begged him to. “You, the Toa of Air. I, the Lord of it. But really, we aren’t the same at all.”
She let go, and Orano plummeted. He began to fire up his rockets, but he felt her claws catch his ankle, and suddenly he was flipped around, upside-down in air.
“You can’t even fly on your own! Yet you try. How hard you try, indeed. Can I see you try again?”
When she let go, Orano was ready. He swung his arms up - or, down, rather - and activated both rockets. His body swung around, and he was suddenly hovering eye-level with the Lord of Air’s emerald gaze.
“L-l-leave these peop-ple al-lone,” he said, trying to keep from trembling.
“Save them from us.” She reached out and grasped his mask, her fingers sliding up the eyeholes. Orano’s rockets sputtered out for a moment, and she held him there. “That’s the biggest difference between us, in fact. You’re alone. I’m not. You’re helpless. I’m far from it.”
“L-lad-dy,” Orano said, his mind pushing to let his voice sound.
“Yes?”
Air swirled around his hand. He called to it, willed it into a spherical shape around a tight fist. A pocket of pressurized air.
“Sh-sh-sh-shut up-p.”
He raised his arm and swung, firing a short blast from his rocket to accelerate the punch. It landed between her eyes, and it sent her spinning through the storm. The eyes vanished from view, and Orano began to freefall. He pushed his few last moments of fuel in his rockets at half capacity, allowing him to both slow his fall and grant him some distance from his encounter. When the ground finally appeared, it came fast.
Orano slammed into the street with his feet, but immediately fell into a roll. He tumbled over the concrete until his back hit a piece of the street that had been raised by one of the quakes. He gasped for air, but was greatly thankful for this moment of stillness. Well, whatever stillness existed in an artificial superstorm of hail and fire and lightning created by a bunch of insane ghosts.
Orano pulled himself to his feet and tested his rockets. They huffed a little, but they were out. Looks like he was walking. He looked around, and saw the building in front of him. He could read the glowing sign. Torrent Taani’s: Home of the RushSlush™. That wasn’t the surprising part. What was surprising was that he could see it. The fog wasn’t as thick here. Now that he thought of it, the hail wasn’t as heavy. He looked up, and, though it was still severely overcast, he could make out a faint aura of starlight above. Thunder boomed, but it sounded distant. Was he… in the eye of the storm?
He took a quick glance around. There were a few Torrent Taani’s around Aero City, and depending on which one this was…
It was the city square. It was the one place in all of Aero City that wasn’t overcome by the swollen business of the city. And if that was there, then that meant that Market Avenue was… He ran across the square, finding a familiar road on the other side. He sprinted down it, feeling the wind and the hail grow slightly stronger as he got further from the square. He leaped over a chunk of city debris fallen over the street. The Lords were merciless. They were angry at the Toa, and so they hurt the Matoran? What made them ever think they’d be worthy of the powers they worked so hard to get?
Orano stopped in front of a building with a large steel garage door in the front of it. Here it was: the Twinventors’ Workshop. They were likely hidden in a bunker somewhere, but he needed to refuel the rockets if he was going to hold off the Elemental Lords until Narale and Vosala got here. He reached for the door and hand pulled it up.
He didn’t see the weapon - a metal rod, no thicker than a pipe - until it had struck him in the head, nearly displacing his Kanohi mask. He stumbled to his knees, and looked up as the weapon was raised to attack once again.
A hand formed from within the garage and grabbed the end of the rod, holding it back.
“My dear friend,” a voice said, “this is one of the Toa! He is here to help!”
The person holding the weapon looked at Orano and blinked. They were a short Matoran, with a youthful look to the glow of their eyes. The other one, the Matoran that had intervened, was a blue-plated, aged one that leaned upon a wooden staff.
“I am Elder Saane,” said the old Matoran. “A friend of Toa Kidoma’s.”
Dazed, Orano struggled back to his feet with a little help from Saane. “I-I am T-T-Toa Orano.”
“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, honorable Toa Orano,” said Saane.
The young Matoran blinked at either one of them.
Saane beckoned Orano in and closed the door after him. Inside, a few small Lightsone lanterns were placed, providing a weak but comforting yellow light. There were more Matoran in here, perhaps fifteen or so.
Orano gasped at the sight of them. Many shivered, others looked at him with helpless gazes. “W-What are you all d-doing here?”
“We were brought here by two heroic young men named Spigot and Rench,” said Saane. “They’ve made a storm shelter for us here, and they are out now looking for others in need of safety. So brave.” Saane frowned a little. “Though, they are quite eccentric.”
This was when Orano noticed the styrofoam cup of sapphire liquid in the old Matoran’s hand.
“Where are the other Toa?” asked a Matoran woman. She looked up at Orano with wide, frightened eyes. Orano was sure he had seen her before. Perhaps a neighbor? A clerk at a grocery store? He had never seen such an expression on her face. Aero City was consistent and bland. This was likely the Matoran’s first experience with something so ground-shaking. Orano had only faced such an experience for the first time some few months ago.
“They’re c-c-coming,” he said, hopeful.
Saane beamed as he sipped on his drink. “It will be good to see Kidoma again.”
Orano scowled. “I d-don’t know if he’s c-c-coming.”
“Why not? Weren’t you all together.”
“N-n-no. We sp-s-split up.”
Saane leaned backwards against a workbench, and buried his face in his hand. “Of course you did. Some sort of competition, I imagine?”
“It-t seemed s-s-smart at the t-time.”
“Does it seem smart now?”
It did not.
There was a clanging against the garage door. Orano wheeled around on his heel, taking what he presumed to be a fighting stance. The Matoran, however, turned their audio receptors and listened.
“That’s the code,” one said. “Let them in.”
A couple Matoran stalked over to the door and threw it open. Outside, Orano could make out Spigot’s lean form and Rench’s stout one.
“Good news, everyone!” shouted Spigot. His arms had been fitted into larger, mechanical constructions with metallic claws and wide, shield-like structures grafted onto the sides. “We can’t find anyone else.”
Rench, wearing great spiked boots and gloves and a weighty steel pack on his back, looked at him with disbelief. “What are you talking about? That’s bad news!”
Spigot shook his head. “Absolutely not! It means everyone else is safe! Nobody else needs our help!”
“No, it means that the monsters got ‘em, or somethin’ like that.”
“The monsters don’t want none of us! They want the Toa!”
“Well, I think we’re a means to an end. Like, if they want the Toa to come to them, the best thing to do is kidnap a bunch of folks the Toa are s’posed to be helpin’.” Rench caught sight of Orano. He stumbled over awkwardly on his spiked boots, and fell to a knee in front of Orano. At first, the Toa thought the Matoran had just tripped, but Rench held the pose for several seconds, head bowed.
“You don’t have to do that!” shouted Spigot. “He’s still our friend, ya know. He’s just a bit taller.”
“He’s also a legendary hero,” mumbled Rench. “He’s here to save the world, and so he deserves some respect.”
Orano held his hands up. “P-p-please. S-S-Spigot’s right. I’m still your f-f-friend. You d-don’t-t need to do that-t-t.”
Rench waited a second, and then rose back to his feet. “Well, sir, I hope you like what we’ve done with the place. You inspired us to do it, actually.”
Orano looked around the Matoran. A few of them were whole families. All of them looked scared, save for Saane, happily finishing off his slushy. The Twinventors had given them a place of safety.
“We figured,” said Spigot, “if our good pal Ono could become a mythical hero with superpowers, then two wacko brothers could do somethin’ to help folks, too.”
“Yeah,” said Orano. “You g-g-guys are d-doing a g-great job. I honestly did-d-dn’t expect this f-from you g-guys.”
They each beamed with glowing pride.
“Told ya he’d like it,” said Spigot.
The three of them passed out snacks (which came in the form of bread with salty seasoning dashed over it), and refueled Orano’s rockets to the brim. Spigot asked Orano a few questions to get a sense of the rockets’ performance and made notes for potential improvements and features in later designs. Rench was learning a shanty from Saane, and was providing quite the entertaining performance for the civilians sheltered there. By the time Orano and Spigot were finished, the whole group was able to chant the chorus by memory.
Orano, refreshed and refueled, stood before them, and looked at them all. They didn’t deserve what the Dark Wind was doing to their homes. What she was doing to them. “Th-this isn’t f-f-fair. N-none of y-you should be suffering like this.” His fists tightened. “I’m going to s-st-stop her. I’m g-g-going to t-t-try, at least-t.” He lowered his head. What am I doing? Do I really think I’ll be able to-
“Toa Orano.” Elder Saane lowered his staff onto the Toa’s shoulder. “You are the Toa of Air, and you are Toa for a reason. Perhaps this is it.”
Orano wanted to say something, to complain, to argue more, but the old Matoran’s stare stopped him. Saane was being genuine. He genuinely believed that Orano could do something.
“Ok-kay,” Orano said. “I’ll do my b-best.”
“That’s all we could hope for,” said Saane.
“Hey, Ono,” said Spigot. He threw something in the air. “Give that wind creep a couple of these for me.”
Orano caught it. It was a small cloth pouch, and he could feel a few disc-shaped things inside. “What are they?”
Rench snickered heartily. “Just throw them at somethin’ that’s botherin’ you. Throw ‘em hard.”
Orano shook his head, set the pouch in a small opening in his armor, and turned around. He opened the garage door, and the hail assaulted him immediately. “St-t-tay safe!” he shouted over the storm. “I’ll be b-back when this is d-done!”
Something grabbed him by the waist. A monstrous, earthy hand, bulging with stone that was coated in jagged ice. It lifted him up, and suddenly he was in the face of a being with monstrous horns, and cracks of indigo energy riddling his icy stone form.
“You have fallen into the hand of Terros!” the thing bellowed. “Now, Terros shall bring you to the mistress, and she will be happy!”
“Hey, buddy!” Rench shouted. He and Spigot were stepping out of the garage, swinging their mechanical enhancements like weapons.
“D-don’t…” said Orano.
Terros stomped his foot against the street, and ice and stone erupted from it. When the quake was settling, a wall had been built between the being and the Twinventors. They and the other Matoran were trapped in the shop. And Orano was trapped in the beastly grasp of the Elemental Lord of Earth and Ice, being carried to meet his fate at the hands of the Dark Wind.
She had won. Terros was on his way here, to the city square, the eye of the storm, now, with the Toa of Air. The one Toa who had been able to harm her. Toa. What a silly word. The Dark Wind scoffed to herself.
And still… there was that feeling. Thus far. He has been the only Toa able to harm me thus far. That feeling was doubt. Fear, even. She had thought herself invincible, and yet now…
No. They can’t hurt you. The only one who can is now your prisoner. You have won, not because a mask fell from the sky, but because you worked harder than anyone else had.
She remembered her work in the Labs. She remembered discovering the powers of the star and moon and the ability to magnify them. She remembered realizing that this was the destiny that awaited her. The Matoran couldn’t trust in the wills that had created the Toa in the past. They could only trust in themselves, in her, to create the Toa. She was the herald of a new age.
And then it all fell apart. She lost her physical form, consumed entirely by her power. Power that she had earned. Power that she deserved.
“Dark Wind,” Terros’ gruff, gravelly voice called out. “Terros presents the Toa of Air.”
She flew down to the city square and examined Terros’ quarry. Orano’s head was bowed, his arms pinned to his side by Terros’ great arms.
“Release him,” the Wind commanded.
Terros hesitated. “But…”
Emerald lightning crashed throughout the sky, and the thunder that followed was immense.
Terros nodded, and let Orano go.
The prisoner immediately leapt upwards, and his rockets flared as he began racing upwards.
Predictable. The Dark Wind sneered. “Thistle, if you would.”
The Elemental Lord of Jungle and Water nodded his grotesque head, and slammed his palm against the ground. The asphalt groaned and cracked, and from it rose a great, winding wine riddle in thorns. It charged upwards, snagging Orano by the ankle and yanking him downwards. Orano flailed around before the vine whipped him into the street. More vines grew from the street and reached around the Toa, tethering him in planty restraints.
“Do you think I’m going to let you go?” The Dark Wind floated over to Orano’s side. She tapped at his mask and whispered in his audio receptor, “We aren’t finished yet.”
“W-why?” asked Orano.
“Why what?”
“W-w-why d-do you hat-te us so m-much?”
The Dark Wind laughed with the sounds of surrounding thunder. “You remind me of what the Matoran of my age cried out for, and never received. You appear now, of this day, when Moda Nui experiences peace and sanctuary of the wars and chaos of the central lands? No, you are four hundred years too late!”
Orano didn’t look at her as she spoke. His head was pressed against its side. “Too late f-f-for what-t?”
“The War.” The Wind’s voice growled as she spoke. “When the Matoran arrived to this island, we tried to make peace with one another. Live as six people in one society. But unity cannot coexist with freedom.”
“H-have you c-c-considered,” stammered Orano, the vines tightening around him as the Elemental Lords grew angrier in their memories, “that the reason-n w-we are s-summoned now, instead of then… is y-you?”
The Dark Wind flew back. What? What did this Toa mean? That the Lords were the reason the Toa had returned? That they were a… threat, somehow? She turned her gaze to Thistle, Terros, and Ignira. Confusion riddled each of their faces.
“L-look-k around.” Orano strained against the vines, trying to lean his head up. “This st-torm. The Ma-Matoran. Look-k what yo-ou’ve done to their h-h-home. You’ve s-scared them. You’ve t-t-tormented them. How c-could you b-b-be the heroes?”
The Dark Wind’s lightning strung across the sky in a brilliant web, and she understood… she wasn’t meant to be the hero, was she? Her life as a Matoran, she had only known to create weapons. She had been born into a war she tried to end, but here she was, starting another…
She understood. But she did not accept.
She shot a blast of wind against Orano, driving him deeper into the crumbling street. “Be silent! You have no clue what you are saying! You are a mockery! Your power is stolen! Your heroics are lies! You know nothing!”
“I kn-now on-n-ne thing.” Orano’s voice came out slowly, inconsistently. He pushed against the vines with the last of his strength, turning up to face the Dark Wind with all of his might. Their eyes locked, and he said, “I know h-h-how t-to st-stall.”
A bestial roar shook the city square just as much as any of the Dark Wind’s thunder. She whipped around. “Terros! Find out what that is!”
The Elemental Lord of Earth and Ice nodded, and charged in the direction of the roar.
Half-buried into the ground, Orano chuckled faintly.
“Your resistance means nothing,” the Dark Wind said with a cackle. “We will redeem this island, and you will see who we are. In the end, they all will see us.”
There was another roar, but not from a beast. It was a natural sound, like… a wave?
The Dark Wind turned around again to see Terros sprinting towards her, a blast of water chasing after him. He just reached the square as the water splashed over him. The earthy parts of his structure became as mud, dripping from his form. The icy parts quickly began to freeze the mud, solidifying him but also slowing him down as his feet began to freeze the water he now stepped in. He took a few more steps before a wave of vines ripped from the street and entangled his arms, pulling him down to his knees as the ice froze him over. Terros released a growl of defiance before his icy shape was shattered into fragments by a great metal fist. Where he once stood was the mighty, silver-armored Toa of Earth, accompanied by a great, six-legged creature and a Toa of Jungle and a Toa of Water riding upon it.
The Toa had arrived.