Six Shadows

by Vicron

Rating: teen
Tags: Science Fiction, Adventure, Violence, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Other, Princess Luna, Drama, Original Character
Length: 77840

Die in the storm or hurl themselves into the unknown? For the Makuta of Karda Nui, the choice is easy. For Equestria, it's not.

With Teridax's Plan presumably failed and one of their member fallen, the Makuta fear rescue may never arrive. So when presented with a chance to escape their fate they take it. Now they find themselves in a new land, with new rulers and no knowledge of them.

Faced with the six children of Shadow, the Royal Sisters find themselves with a decision to make, and, puzzled by incomplete tales of a world locked in an eternal war between Light and Dark, not much time to make it.

What would any self respecting Makuta do, but push the advantage?

Published 2018-07-23 00:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-02 01:08:12 UTC

Act I: Hunger: Freedom

Antroz was blind, but he didn’t need to see to feel the tension in the air, the storm outside raged impotently against the shield his thought deceased brother Krika had erected for them. None of them knew how long it had been, the light from the storm was constant, they didn’t need to sleep, and nothing ever seemed to change. Every passing moment it seemed like nothing ever would. He was supposed to be here sooner, so long ago now.

He took stock of the things he did know, pushing away the dread that he felt creeping through all six of the gathered Makuta.

He knew Krika was to his left, taking his turn holding the storm at bay.

He knew Mutran was to his right, armour still stained by the energy bolt that had nearly fried him.

He knew Gorast sat across from him. If he had to guess, he’d say she was probably still glaring daggers at Krika for his insolence in still being among the living.

He knew to her left was Chirox, shifting and muttering to himself, likely trying to either calculate how long it’d been, or how powerful of an energy burst it would take to make enough of a break in the storm for them to at least tell where the closest wall was.

He knew- or rather he’d been told- that Vamprah sat to her right, silent as always, unmoving. If there was ever a time when Antroz wished he would speak up to enlighten them as to what was going on in his head it was then.

He knew morale had to be at an all-time low. He pressed a hand to Mutran’s arm, a signal he wanted a status update. Antroz had kept this crew away from each other’s throats for this long by a skillful combination of diplomacy, threats, and exertions of pure will. Which as far as Antroz was concerned was like holding together a skyscraper with nothing but spit, Visorak blood, and a heaping helping of hope. He refused to let this feat of incredible political gymnastics go sour before he had a chance to rub it in the faces of everyone who had ever doubted his leadership skills.

“Must I?” Mutran growled back at the tenuous ‘leader’ of this shipwreck.

“You wanted something to do, didn’t you?” Antroz snapped, “I could just have everybody tell me how they think things are going, you’d still be able to speak for Vamprah.” If there’s one thing Antroz could count on, it was that Mutran would speak his mind, no garnering for favour from him.

“Fine,” Mutran huffed, “it’s still very bright, Krika’s keeping most of it at bay, but the amount of light getting in is irritating. That enough?” Antroz put on his most unimpressed grimace and Mutran continued with a huff, “I’ve already told you my stance on the ‘are we ever getting rescued’ front, shall we go around the circle again?”

“I’d appreciate that, yes,” Antroz said.

“How about we don’t,” Gorast snarled back.

“Getting hesitant, are we?” Mutran shot, Gorast only didn’t maul him because Antroz held up his blade, the silent threat meaning considerably more in such an enclosed space. “Oh Mata-Nui, you are,” Mutran’s voice came out quieter this time. Antroz couldn’t help but sit up a little straighter as Chirox swore. Gorast stayed silent.

If even Gorast was starting to doubt that Teridax had any intention of rescuing them, nothing was coming, ever.

They needed a way out.

Krika brushed one of his claws against Antroz’ side. Antroz, without even having to think about it, reached up and took his Kanohi Crast, the Mask of Rejection being the only reason any of them were still alive, channeling power through it to keep it active as he transferred it to his own face. It was difficult, but it had worked this long.

“Brother,” Krika whispered, sounding about as tired as he’d ever sounded, “I have a plan, but I need to gather more energy than one cycle allows me, I won’t be able to take my next turn.” The sound of the storm outside kept the others from hearing him.

“And what is this plan?” Antroz murmured back through grit teeth.

“I cannot tell you just yet, but Gorast won’t like it. Not that she ever likes anything I do.” Great, now they were keeping secrets where their survival was concerned. Just peachy, maybe he really wouldn’t be able to keep them together long enough.

“Fine,” Antroz sighed, “I’ll just grab it from Vamprah.”

“I promise, just two more cycles and I’ll be able to try this.” Normally such a promise would be hollow to him, but right then it was a goal, a measure of time at last. Antroz nodded, just two more cycles.

The first one passed without incident, they had all long since stopped griping about this part of the deal. It wasn’t until Antroz skipped over Krika that questions started being asked.

“How come he gets out of mask duty? It’s his mask.” Gorast snapped, earning herself a glare from Antroz as he forced the mask down onto his head.

“There’s a plan,” he swore he could feel the tension in the air snap, suspicion and hope mingling in the three shouted responses to his statement. “One at a time.”

“What is it?” That was Chirox’ voice, just like him not to enjoy being left out of the scheming process.

“Can’t tell you, it’s not my plan,” Antroz responded, shrugging.

“Is it to ram ourselves into the nearest wall and try to punch a hole through?” Of course Mutran assumed that it was an idea he’d already entertained.

“Probably no-”

“Of sorts,” Krika interrupted him, “but this wall will be considerably easier to find and keep a steady course to.” Which lead to the third question, from Gorast.

“Is it Krika’s plan?”

“Yes,” Antroz turned his head towards Krika, expecting some more explanation from him. It didn’t come. Apparently the wall thing was all they were getting out of him.

“Why can’t someone else do it?” Mutran chimed in again, “if I’m right in assuming the reason you’re not taking your turn is so you can gather more energy for whatever wall we’re going to be ramming into.”

“It’s Krika’s mask, he has more experience with it than the rest of us do, he’ll be able to get more out of it.” Antroz cut him off at the pass, the look he threw making sure Mutran knew there would be no tolerance for showboating right now.

Antroz could tell Gorast was trying to think of what it could be so she could think of a reason not to let him do it, her silence weighed heavy as she considered. Antroz didn't want her getting the opportunity for an outburst though, so he decided to shut that down too. “Gorast, nothing’s coming. Even if we don’t know what it is this is at least a plan. It’s a chance.”

“You don’t know he’s no-”

“You’ve started to doubt Teridax, Gorast. Idealistic, crazy, you.” He paused for a moment to let that really sink in. “He’s not coming, he either lost, can’t, or never had any plan to. Which leaves us to either sit here and maybe, just maybe, we can make it till he dies, if that ever even happens, but more likely someone makes a mistake and we’re all vaporized. Or we take the gamble on Krika’s plan, and maybe we live.”

Gorast shifted, but stayed silent, no doubt throwing Krika the most withering glare she could muster. The rest of this cycle too, went without incident.

When Krika got the mask back he took a deep breath before starting to pour every bit of energy he’d gathered into the mask. The mask began to shine bright enough to make Antroz’ side feel warm. Mutran snapped his fingers as the repulsion shield around them began to buckle and stretch.

“The dimensional wall! He can’t control our trajectory enough to direct us towards a physical wall, so he’s repelling our universe as a whole!” Antroz blinked, he hadn’t even considered that an option.

“What?! No,” Gorast shouted, making to leap for Krika only to be restrained by her other brothers, “we can’t abandon the Plan, stop him! Stop him!” She screamed before the world went wobbly.

Everything felt strange and twisty in the space between worlds, like they were being pulled through a keyhole in the wake of a heat great enough to soften their armour. Though they only experienced it for a split second it was enough to make Antroz and the others release Gorast for fear of somehow phasing into part of her body; and make Gorast stop screaming for the space of time they were there. Krika let out a shout of exertion and they erupted back out into a world with a deafening bang.

_________

Canterlot was never a still town, Captain Frigid Wind thought, but it was quieter than usual during those early hours just before the sun rose. Then it was just the severely early risers or those who had worked through the night milling home or to coffee shops. Such as himself, gearing up to inspect how the good ponies of the guard were keeping their posts with a cup of coffee. That sweet, sublime liquid. This morning, however, the calm seemed doomed to fail, and to deny him his morning cuppa.

The barista working the counter began to greet him with their usual morning exchange, “ah, Captain, here for your usua-” a sound like thunder magnified a thousand times filled the air as steaks of nearly blinding light danced on the far wall of the cafe. It was considerably too early for this, but Frigid had a job to do and had nearly just jumped out of his skin, not that anyone else saw it as he turned around to face the no doubt powerful spell going on. His horn glowed white as he glared at the source of the brightness.

Energy bursts rippled in the air around Canterlot square, charring and shattering the walls of nearby buildings. Frigid swore to himself and raced back out the door, glad he didn’t leave the house without his armour. He managed to reach the square as the power finally stilled. The walkways and ancient statue in the middle were cracked and blackened, looking like a stiff breeze might reveal them to be so much piled up ash. Luckily it didn’t look like anypony had been standing too close, but a few birds and rodents had received a swift flash-cooking and lay strewn across the square.

Standing at the charred epicenter of the blast was an opaque bubble, black and white energy swirling on its surface, every now and again arching out to nip at one of the ruined bricks beneath it. Frigid glared at it and ignited his horn to send up the signal flare that would summon the rest of the guard as he got to work making sure no civilians had ended up caught in the blast or were staying in the immediate area. He hardly considered the flare necessary considering the entrance this thing had made, but it was protocol. Each time energy arced off of the orb a bit more of that swirling white left it. The first of the guards had started trickling in when the orb was finally a uniform black.

“Captain, any idea what that thing is?” One of the night guards who had answered the call asked him, the slightly sluggish way she moved making it clear to Frigid that she’d been right at the end of her shift and, like him, was being denied something quite well deserved.

“With Celestia’s school so close by, it could be anything,” he grunted back, “probably some dumb kid’s experiment got out of hoof,” didn’t hurt to keep an eye on it though, magic was volatile. The bubble seemed to swell for a moment and he raised his voice, “steady!” It popped with a sound like a soda can opening, sending six tall, jagged and metallic beings sprawling out of it.

Frigid stared at them, irritated that he was probably about to be caught up in some international incident over this. Five of them stood, clad in armour that gleamed black in the early morning light, two green, one red, one blue and silver, and one black and silver, the white and red one stayed down on the ground, stirring weakly. The red, blue, and silver among them were unsure on their feet, as if they couldn’t see their surroundings, webbed wings flaring as they tried to keep their balance.

They were huge, four easily as tall as Celestia, though the blue and one of the green ones stood closer to Luna’s height. They were obviously disoriented, paying no attention to the fallen of their number.

One of them barked something at the others in a strange tongue as the last of the civilians were escorted away and the main forces of the guard caught up with the ones who’d been patrolling the area, the sound of hooves and wings seeming to disorient the three blind among them even further.

Frigid gave the order and the newly arrived guards surrounded the six figures before they could properly get their bearings and escape. The green ones braced themselves, drawing weapons that crackled with dark energy before the red one held up a hand, letting off a few quick phrases in that unknown tongue that made one of the others stand down. The shorter one seemed to refuse, remaining tense with gleaming claws at the ready, dragonfly like wings buzzing nervously from her elbows.

The red one sat and let out another quick bout of its grating language, motioning for the others to do the same. They hesitated, but joined the red and black one, apparently their leader, on the ground. Captain Frigid stepped forwards.

“Greetings, care to explain yourselves?” The red one cocked its head towards him, the three jagged facial fins on either side of its face making him feel like he was suddenly staring down the barrel of a cannon. Its eyes were red and dull, unseeing, but he could still tell it knew where he was, even if it didn’t seem to understand him. The enormous, batlike wings on its back seeming to frame the sharp, red points of the armour along its upper arms and thighs. Its legs ended in enormous, grasping talons. Strapped about its waist were a couple of what he thought might be wide bladed axes, and set in its chest, seemingly held in place by thick, silvery claws, was a glowing orange orb. Some shadow within squirmed unpleasantly every few moments.

Those dull eyes narrowed a moment and it gestured with wicked red claws from its own head to where Frigid was standing, then towards its mouth, miming speech.

Frigid crooked an eyebrow, “I could tell,” he responded, assuming it was referring to the fact that it didn’t speak the language. He let out a surprised shout when he realized he was wrong, the things eyes began to glow brighter red and he felt something rummaging through his head. It felt cold and hard, like somebody had shoved a knife into his thoughts. He summoned all the training he had on resisting telepathic assaults and tried to push it back out but it brushed him aside like a leaf in a maelstrom, pulsing disdain that he would try to refuse it, he volunteered after all.

Wait, that wasn’t his thought, he shook himself a little, suddenly understanding what the thing wanted. He started thinking about the equestrian language as hard as he could, eager for this creature to leave him. It got the signal and grasped onto the words he knew, matching them to its own thoughts. It retreated as suddenly as it came, leaving Frigid stumbling and feeling even more exhausted than he had a moment ago. Also very glad for the warmth of his own thoughts.

The red one’s eyes flashed again, each of the others’ glowing in turn as they continued to sit. Frigid suddenly noticed that they had arranged themselves in a circle around the fallen white one.

One of the main reasons Frigid got up this early began to ripple through the city, the magical aura of Celestia raising the sun filled the air as the bright orb peeked over the horizon. The five beings jolted a little, like they’d received a static shock, the shorter of the green ones began to rise, claws bristling again. Another quick shout in that strange language from the red one forced it still, though it had still regained its feet. If not for the calming aura of the sunrise Frigid got the distinct feeling that someone would have caused an incident over that with how intentionally threatening it had been.

“I am Makuta Antroz of Xia,” the red one suddenly spoke, its Equestrian starting slow and careful, like it was testing the knowledge it took but quickly gaining confidence. The taller of the green ones scanned the crowd and murmured something that made a slight smile tug at Antroz’ mouth for a moment. “We aren’t looking for a fight, despite what my sister is attempting to imply, and wish to apologize for our sudden intrusion. Both in your city,” it gestured towards Frigid, “and otherwise. We have arrived unintentionally and one of our number is injured. Is there anywhere nearby we could rest and care for our own?”

Frigid looked them over again for a moment as Antroz gestured for the taller green one to tend to their fallen comrade. It huffed for a moment, obviously displeased to be delegated the task, but obeyed, lifting the spindly white creature onto its back. Antroz didn’t react to its displeasure, its focus still staunchly on Frigid. Or, in the general vicinity of Frigid’s head; he was still pretty sure this thing was blind. He felt like he should offer them somewhere to stay, but between their entrance, the armour they wore and the vibe he got off of Antroz rummaging through his head these things rubbed him the wrong way so badly that he felt like the fur on his haunches might never sit flat again.

He thought a moment longer and glanced over at the castle, the Princesses would know better what to do with them than he did, he had no doubt they’d had much more of their fair share with suddenly appearing creatures than he had. If these things did turn out to be dangerous, it’d probably be good to have the big guns on hoof.

“If you’ve come in peace,” the taller green one threw him a look that told him he’d looked too far into Antroz’ earlier statement regarding looking for a fight, this was why he’s not a politician. “Then I can show you to the barracks. We’ve got a couple beds that might be big enough for your friend and doctors there for almost every species known to ponykind.” He gave the white one a quick glance, “though I’m not quite sure how much good they’ll be able to do.” Antroz smiled and Frigid felt a chill go up his spine, he was definitely reporting this as urgent the second he gets the chance.

______

As Mutran lowered Krika’s still unconscious form onto a pair of beds pressed together Antroz couldn’t help feeling very proud of himself. Not that he tried to stop himself. He was also glad that the other Makuta had kept him on his toes for as long as they did, he doubted he would have been able to keep that entrance from causing them problems if he hadn’t been sharp. He wouldn’t tell them that, though.

“Remind me why we didn’t just kill them,” Gorast growled from somewhere off to his left, luckily in their native tongue as there were pony guards outside the door. Her claws flexed, making something wooden creak in her grip and Antroz knew she’d rather be tearing into Krika than the natives of this place.

“I’m wondering why you weren’t more assertive,” Chirox chimed in, pressed at the door, which was still open a crack as he tried to study the physiology of the ponies outside with his hearing alone. “We could have grabbed a couple, fought off the rest and vanished somewhere, observe and experiment while they can’t find us.” Antroz rubbed his eyes, they still ached from time to time, and that burst of Light energy earlier hadn’t helped.

“We didn’t have any advantages,” he growled, “they were waiting for us when we arrived. This is their home turf, anything they hit us with would have been a surprise.” He closed the door, leaning against it to make sure the others stayed to listen and started to count off the reasons they should do so. “We don’t know what their numbers are like, we don’t know what they’re capable of- that was a pulse of Light energy that came through, none of them reacted, that’s normal here- we don’t have their trust, we don’t know where we are, three of us are blind and we don’t even know the lay of the land.”

He stopped for a moment to let it sink in, “the only advantage we do have now that I think about it is that they’re as ignorant of us as we are of them. For now we play to that strength, lay low, play nice; that means you two, Gorast, Mutran. Once we have the upper hand we’ll press it, but until then we don’t cause trouble.” And so, folding his hands before his chin, he settled into his favourite part of any plan, scheming.

Act I: Hunger: Light

Celestia had a philosophy when it came to dealing with foreign powers that had proven effective time and again. Treat them well and you will be treated well in return; kindness- however exploitable between individuals- was much harder to meet with foul behavior on the world’s stage. So sitting across a table from someone scheming how to get around this had long since stopped unsettling her.

The schemer in question was Antroz, flanked by two of his companions, Mutran and Gorast, who didn’t seem nearly as consumed in thought as he. Boredom played across their faces in contrast with the intensity of Antroz’ sightless gaze as they entered the room. They had come seemingly equipped for war, cruel blades strapped about their bodies. That wasn’t what had Celestia slightly off balance, shows of arms were always common when it came to first contacts.

No, what concerned her was that Antroz had brought the two most obviously transparent of his companions to sit in on their talks. It wouldn’t be an issue if she believed that they had pure intentions, but Mutran in particular had a hungry gleam to his eye as he looked across the room that didn’t play towards that hope. Whatever Antroz was planning, he wanted an audience that would prove his words. Or he wanted the most volatile elements of his retinue on hand should his plans turn sour.

But Celestia was equally well versed in remaining aggressively placid when faced with unpredictability. It was actually a bit of fun to be unsure of the other party’s intent at the meeting table for once.

As Antroz walked up to the table he gently elbowed the shorter of his companions, causing her to shoot him a quick glare. Mutran rolled his eyes at the display and pulled out a chair. Antroz grasped at one of the arms of it as he sat down and gestured for the others to do the same. Mutran obeyed, pulling out the chair on his left and putting his feet up on the table as he set himself down; if the slight twitch in Antroz’ concentration was anything to go by it had not escaped his notice but wasn’t a fight worth having at the moment. Mutran’s sly smirk confirmed her suspicions.

Gorast declined to sit, her gaze darting between exits before coming to settle on Celestia herself. Though this chamber had an open side facing the gardens she gave off an air of confinement and suspicion that Celestia couldn’t help pitying her for.

“Now then,” Celestia cleared her throat, prompting Antroz to correct the direction of his gaze to rest on her. “I believe introductions are in order, I am Princess Celestia, acting Triarch of Equestria, and you?”

“I am Makuta Antroz of Xia,” he said quickly, cutting off the question quite obviously forming on Mutran’s lips. “My siblings, who have accompanied me here are Makuta Mutran of Rama, and Makuta Gorast of the North.” Gorast cast him an expectant glance that shifted to a frown as he continued, evidently there was more to her title. “We have come seeking asylum while our brother, Krika recovers.” His gaze had lost a bit of its intensity, softened by a smile that, were it not framed by no less than five fang-like protrusions, might have been disarming.

“With that out of the way, would the three of you care for some tea?” Celestia offered, keeping her face and voice a mask of simple friendliness, “the saying is business before pleasure, but I find all parties are more agreeable if their places are reversed.” Antroz didn’t react, which in and of itself was enough to tell her he was suspicious of her, but Mutran and Gorast displayed a short burst of confusion, their eyes darting towards Antroz.

“I see no reason why not,” he said carefully after a few moments, his own mask of a smile not shifting. “I apologize, the words escaped me, the language is still new to me.” Celestia hummed her understanding and gestured for one of the guards to go fetch them a pot and some cups.

“While we wait for that to arrive, I can tell there are questions eating at your companions, and I’m sure I can think of some of my own.” Celestia watched for a break in Antroz’ expression, the movement of Mutran taking his feet off the table catching the corner of her vision. Seemed she at least had his attention. “As my guests, I will gift you the first question.”

Antroz’ brow twitched a moment, possibly at her wording, but Mutran spoke before he could so much as adjust his gaze.

“You said Triarch, who are the others?” He steepled his fingers as he continued, “and why have they not joined us here? Should we be insulted to have received an audience with the lesser, or flattered to have the attention of the greater?” One of Antroz’ hands twitched as he turned his placid smile on his brother, who was quite staunchly not looking at him, the smugness in his own smirk wavering a moment.

Celestia studied him. His face resembled nothing more than a spider's, four green fangs jutting from a black plate that contained his scarlet eyes. His claws were enormous, three metallic forefingers with an almost hidden black thumb behind them. He shared the faintly glowing orange orb like the one set in Antroz' chest. They were built quite similarly, though Mutran was more jagged, his wings smaller, sleeker, and silvers replaced the reds present in Antroz' armour.

“That’s two questions, but I can answer them both.” Celestia started, hoping to break the tension she felt forming between the two Makuta. “The others are my sister, Princess Luna, and an ex-student of mine, Princess Twilight Sparkle, I assure you that you have all of our attention. You will likely be meeting with Luna sometime after she wakes at dusk, and Twilight within the week once she’s managed to open up her schedule a little.”

“Scheduling issues,” Mutran nodded with understanding, showing a degree of wisdom in not pressing his question of rank. “Never enough time in the day.” Antroz shifted his gaze back down to the table, feeling for the edge of it before pulling himself closer so he could rest his elbows on it. “I believe it’s your turn now, Celestia?” Antroz’ fingers went downright hooked at that, his claws a hair shy of digging into the table.

Celestia chuckled, a little caught off guard herself, apparently Mutran’s informal behavior had not been part of Antroz’ plan. If the way Mutran’s grin deepened was anything to go by he was perfectly aware of and relishing this fact. Seemed Antroz had bitten off more than he could chew with his choice of council.

“It’s quite alright, Antroz, familiarizing ourselves with one another is the purpose of this meeting.” Mutran blinked as Celestia waved his imagined offense away, “my sister is a bit more of a stickler for those sorts of things, but I have always appreciated a measure of informality.” Antroz’ eyes flashed a brighter red for a moment and Mutran let out a chuckle of his own but Antroz still relaxed a bit.

Celestia gave her hooves a quick tap to ensure she still had their attention. “Now then, I’m curious, what would happen to be the rest of Gorast’s titles?” Mutran let out a groan, a hand coming up to cup his forehead with a grimace. “She seemed quite disappointed you stopped when you did.” Gorast, for her part, seemed a little bit disarmed by the question, standing up straighter and throwing another expectant glance Antroz’ way.

“I can never keep them all straight,” Antroz admitted with a long-suffering sigh.

“More like it’s not worth trying,” Mutran interjected, folding his arms and putting his feet back up on the table to ensure his displeasure at this turn of events was well broadcast.

“Regardless, Gorast will need to tell you.”

“I am Makuta Gorast,” she started almost as soon as Antroz named her, “Mistress of the Tren Krom Peninsula, Conquerer of the Visorak Horde, Vanquisher of Kalmah of the Six Kingdoms, Slayer of the Abomination’s Caravan.” The list continued on for longer than Celestia had honestly expected. One could only accrue so many titles before they started making them up in her experience; but it was entertaining to watch Antroz attempt to keep a straight face through them all, Gorast puffing out her chest with pride while Mutran started mouthing along to entertain himself.

Celestia took the opportunity to inspect Gorast. She was shorter than the other two, just over half their size. She couldn't have been more different from them if she tried. Though she shared the three silver forefingers Mutran had, instead of being almost hidden away, her two thumbs were quite prominent, streaked with green as well as black. Her armour was primarily green instead of the almost shining blacks of her brothers, her chestplate was a solid grey. Silvery insectile wings hung close to her shoulders, starting halfway down her arms. Her legs were digitigrade, more familiar than the plantigrade style her brothers seemed to favour, only two toes to her brother's three, but more viciously serrated for it. Her faceplate was long and flat, with a single crest along the top as it jutted forwards and down into her, frankly enormous, mouth. Two fangs extended from her bottom jaw up between her golden eyes, and her chin was capped with what looked to be some sort of barbed stinger.

She also learned something quite informative towards the Makuta’s intentions from Gorast’s expansive list of titles, or rather conquests. She was dealing with a true race of Warriors here; who, unlike the Griffins, experienced conflict often and seemingly with relish if the nostalgic cast Mutran’s gaze had taken on at a couple of the names was any indication. The tea had arrived by the time she was done and Celestia took the liberty of pouring them each a cup.

When she was sure Gorast had exhausted her list Celestia drifted the cups over to them, drawing a moment of surprise from both Mutran and Gorast, though Antroz remained still until his cup hit the table with a soft clink and he made to pick it up. The others shared a glance, waiting until Antroz had scooped up his cup before picking up their own. Curious, they seemed to have no knowledge of magic, or it took a different form where they were from.

“Thank you, Gorast, that was quite informative,” Celestia gave her a gentle smile. Antroz shifted in his seat, his other hand moving to cover the top of his cup as he inspected it with his fingers, drawing them back when he felt the liquid within. Celestia took a sip of her own tea, drawing looks of realization from Gorast and Mutran. Mutran said a word in their tongue before bringing his cup up to his mouth and downing it in one go, a hollow sort of splashing and sizzling sound coming from his armour as he did so. Gorast, for her part, was more restrained than her brother, bringing up the cup to the stinger on her chin and seeming to take in a draught. A moment later she grimaced and put the cup down, swallowing heavily. Antroz’ cup boiled in his grip as even the porcelain crumbled to ash between his fingers. Celestia was suddenly very glad she never brought her favoured china to meetings like this.

It must have shown on her face, for Mutran grimaced, giving Antroz a swat on the back of the head, his face went crooked as he was shunted forwards and Celestia was suddenly confronted by the fact that all three of them were wearing masks. Antroz’ mask contorted into a grimace for a moment as he straightened it on his face and made to stand, grabbing at his brother’s arm. “Peace,” Celestia said firmly, causing Antroz to almost jolt like he’d forgotten she was there, and Mutran’s free hand to retreat from the handle of the sword strapped about his hip. “Cups are easy to replace and this table is a simple affair to clean, there is no harm done. Violence in this room, however- to my subjects, myself, or my guests- will not be tolerated.”

“Right,” Antroz cleared his throat. The armour of Mutran’s arm creaked in his grip a moment before he released it, shooting a quick string of their tongue at Mutran before sitting back down.

“I believe it’s your turn to ask a question,” Celestia said, taking another sip of her tea. Antroz seemed to regard her a moment, folding his hands in front of his chin.

“There was a… phenomena, we experienced when we arrived.” He started, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. Celestia crooked an eyebrow, he seemed at once hesitant and eager, like he’d seen something he wanted but worried it may be a trap. “Some force swept through the area, it may have just been an echo of our entrance, but I doubt it. It was Light- our kind can feel it- Light channeled into power. None of the others in the area seemed to react to it, so my question is, what was that?”

“It happened just before sunrise, almost coincided with it,” Mutran said quickly, “but it was not the sunlight, otherwise we would still feel it.” Celestia’s expression softened.

“That was me,” she said. Antroz twitched, Gorast’s nervous glances towards the exits returned and Mutran nearly toppled back out of his chair. Celestia’s eyebrow went back up, was there no Sunbringer where they came from?

“You?” Antroz asked, one of his claws dragging along the wooden table, leaving the slightest of scratches.

“Yes, I was raising the sun,” Celestia watched them carefully. Were they afraid? She wondered as Mutran went incredibly still, Gorast’s silvery wings started to buzz nervously. Antroz sat, his brow knitted in concentration, a second claw joining the first in etching lines across the table. “I take it no one does this where you come from.” That seemed to break them from their stupor.

“No,” Antroz half growled, “someone does.” His claws properly embedded themselves in the table with that. He jolted a little and removed them, murmuring an apology. “The question is yours.”

She had been saving this question for the end of their meeting, but she could tell that was fast approaching, and the way they were eyeing her now was just shy of outright hostility. Things had gone downhill quickly.

“Why did you arrive here?” Gorast looked like she was about to shout before Antroz silenced her with a firm gesture.

“We fought a war, and we lost.” For a moment Celestia thought he was going to leave it at that as he rose to his feet, but he’d only been gathering his thoughts. “The being who controlled our Suns, the Great Spirit, Mata Nui, was powerful beyond measure. Everywhere we went, everything we ever saw was under his power. But he was neglectful, he created us to be his servants, to take care of the messes the others within his world created, and then left us without guidance.”

Gorast gave a warning growl as Antroz continued, “he cared nothing for those who he created, or those who he’d left in our care. As long as the wheels kept turning it wasn’t worth his attention. We fought wars to protect his functions so he could continue his Work, created beasts to stabilize his ecosystems. For a long time, thousands upon thousands of years we were content to maintain his world, so long as the wheels kept turning.” He stopped for another moment, turning his head like he’d prefer to be pacing but didn’t know if it would be safe to do so.

He let out an irritated sound as he continued speaking, “but there was a problem, a flaw innate within us. The others within Mata Nui’s world made up stories to justify it, spun tales to make it our fault, but we are not creatures of Light, never were.” He raised a hand, with a pop like electricity his hand went dark, a red-rimmed swath of shadow hanging in the air around it, “we are born of the Dark, and so we command it.” Gorast’s low growl escalated to a snarl as she moved to place herself between Antroz and Celestia. Antroz waved his hand and she stood stock still for a moment, glaring daggers at Celestia. “They feared us, despised us, it meant little to us at the time, we only needed to concern ourselves with them when they threatened the Work. We should have known better than to ignore their fear.”

He turned his back on Celestia, gently pushing his chair out of the way, “we began to die.” Gorast snapped at air, her teeth ringing like steel as she glanced between Antroz and Celestia. Mutran looked bored, like he’d heard this story a thousand times and it’d lost its luster. “There were so few of us in the beginning, and we lost many all at once. We realized we were unsustainable. So we set about creating more of ourselves, a second generation.”

He turned back to Celestia, “this was a step too far for the other inhabitants. In the first and only time we’d ever seen them work together properly they came to our leader at the time, the spineless, crowd pleasing fool Miserix, and told him to put a stop to the project. He gave in to their demands, and went further. He decreed that all products of the second generation be destroyed. Many of us refused, but we were disorganized, scattered, we called to Mata Nui, our creator, to aid us, his most loyal servants. He remained silent, aloof and uncaring. He didn’t lift a finger as Miserix murdered his younger brothers and sisters, but he made enemies of the rest of us. We overthrew Miserix and placed a new leader on the throne, Teridax.”

He let out a mirthless chuckle, seeming to slump a little, “and Teridax had a plan. Mata Nui had ruled unchallenged for too long; if he wasn’t going to protect us, if he wouldn’t keep the others in line, then we would. We declared our own war, crushed his workings and attempted to supplant the neglectant Great Spirit. We failed, the six of us escaped Mata Nui’s retribution by breaking through the walls between worlds.”

“We don’t know that!” Gorast snapped, stepping forwards to posture in Antroz’ face for a moment before seeming to remember his blindness and scoffing. “We were trapped by an energy storm when the Great Spirit’s body was revived, but everything went according to The Plan, we shouldn’t have failed. Teridax should be the new Great Spirit!”

“For how long?” Mutran drawled, sliding his spear between Gorast and Antroz, gently pushing her away from him, “by my calculations almost three months.” Gorast went quiet, baring her teeth for a moment longer before turning away with a huff. Antroz cleared his throat with a hollow coughing noise.

“Regardless, we are here because, whether we succeeded or not, there was no rescue coming. It was either escape or die, we chose escape. Much to the displeasure of the… fanatics among us.” Gorast snapped her teeth again but remained silent.

Celestia took a moment to mull over the new information, her eyes flicking to Mutran, who once again seemed bored; yet still, that hungry glint in his eyes remained as he scanned across the room. She’d missed something. Some piece of the puzzle that, as she looked across Antroz and Gorast’s faces she felt she’d been given but just hadn’t recognized.

Antroz still hadn’t sat back down; a challenge, he wanted her to decide the question of asylum now. The first piece slipped into place, he was attempting to ply her sympathy and force her hoof on the decision to ensure they would be allowed to stay. She’d been given much of the past, but little of the conflict that found them here. They’d done something. Something they worried she would find intolerable. Something they didn’t want her to know.

She glanced to Gorast, who’s claws bristled, her eyes still scanning the exits. They didn’t just expect her to deny them, they expected a fight. They’d been expecting once since she revealed she controlled the Sun, controlled the Light. The second piece fell into place. She was of the Light, they were of the Dark, where they came from such things had no tolerance for one another, and they assumed much the same of Equestria.

They had come in with a plan, they were off script, and growing anxious because of it. That hunger in Mutran’s eyes faltered as she met his gaze and she saw it, fear. She let out a sigh, she was planning to discuss this with Luna already, but now she felt it necessary before she even began to consider what to do with them.

“I do not believe I have the authority to make a decision on your request for shelter alone.” She said, watching as the three of them blinked in confusion. “Know that we will allow you to stay until a decision is made, you have shown us no true ill will, but you will have to meet with my sister before the decision becomes official in any manner. You fall more under her domain.” She chuckled to herself. “If you are truly of the Dark, it’s only fair that the Princess of Darkness decide what is to be done with you.”

She allowed herself a bit of a smirk as their confusion became even more apparent, “Dark and Light may be at odds in your home, Makuta,” she stood, giving them a respectful nod, “but here they stand as equals.”

______

Antroz didn’t let his guard down until they’d made it back to their room in the barracks, but once they did he let out an almost disbelieving chuckle.

“Gorast, Mutran, you did well,” he said, giving them each a firm pat on the shoulder. Gorast grunted at him dismissively, but he could tell Mutran was preening a little under the praise.

“Off script is what we do, Antroz,” he said, his haughty arrogance seeping into his voice. “Hard to keep your cool around a Light wielder though, I know Gorast didn’t.” Gorast gave him a low growl at that, “maybe, as a reward you should let me…” He trailed off expectantly, though Antroz couldn’t see it he could almost feel the extended palm.

“Oh no you don’t, not before I get one,” Chirox snarled from his place next to Krika’s bed. “So, do we have their trust?”

“We’re well on our way,” Antroz grinned before stopping a moment. Something was off, the air felt empty in a way it shouldn't have, “where’s Vamprah?”

“He’s not still here?” Chirox murmured in response. “Gorast, Mutran, do you see him?”

There was a rustling and a few scrapes of wood across the floor, Antroz thought he heard one of them check the adjoining rooms.

“He’s gone,” Mutran finally sounded off. Antroz couldn’t help the savage growl that came up his throat.

“Gorast, Mutran, find him. Before he ruins everything!”

______

Something was calling him, Vamprah didn’t know what, and for some reason he cared. He hadn’t cared for a while, not since-

He cut off the train of thought with a quick jerk of his head. It had been hard enough to keep his concentration in that bubble against the apathy that thought brought with it, to not let it collapse around them whenever it was his turn. What would it have mattered? They had failed, and even if they hadn’t, he had.

The emptiness didn’t matter right now, though, the Call did. It was sweet, low and dark. It sang out to him clear as anything. The others didn’t hear it, of course they didn’t, Chirox hadn’t even heard him slip out. They’d hardly been blind a month before the storm, before the noise that had nearly rendered even him deaf. He’d been blind much longer, he’d learned to listen. Every place will tell you its story if you know how to listen.

Yet this was new, and new was important. Nothing had ever called him like this before, the Dark was pushed away, never pulled in.

He stopped and listened, clinging to the arching stone that made up the underside of the ceilings in this place. He could hardly have asked for better clawholds. The Call came from above, ringing on and on, but it had cautioned him not to approach from outside. He couldn’t he caught now, he needed to avoid prying eyes.

He listened a moment longer, the Call whispering directions to him. To the left for three halls, then right, and up a stairwell. He let out a quiet click, well beyond the range of hearing of anything else he’d ever encountered, but enough to let him listen for any who could give him away. There was someone below, but he was well out of sight. Few of these creatures looked up indoors, fewer still would have been able to see through the camouflage he was slinking around in.

There was no alarm raised, all was the shuffling not-quiet of a day going as usual. He moved on, following the directions the Call whispered to him.

He felt the arching upward swing of a staircase just as the Call told him he would and ascended, swift as he was silent. There was another door at the top of the stairs, he let out a silent sigh at this, the door into the castle proper had nearly gotten him caught. Letting out another supersonic click he waited for it to echo out.

There were two guards next to the door, perhaps two paces in front of it. Good, too far away for them to catch the door moving in the corners of their eyes. The door had a handle, a simple lever affair. Vamprah hated those, they were so much louder than knobs. He slipped himself as close to the door as he could and let his camouflage drop, he swallowed on the mist of his throat, he knew his eyes would shine as he did this, so he closed them.

He had to be precise, casting the Silence over only the door, but not what lay beyond or the guards. He worked fast, his claws teeming with shadows as he reached out with the darkness and pushed down the lever, letting the door slide open without a sound. He slipped inside and closed it just before letting the cloak of Silence fall away.

Nestling into the ceiling near the door he waited, but there were no sounds of alarm from outside or in, only the Call, and the gentle, slow sound of something breathing in its sleep.

The hunter in him zeroed in on the breath in a moment, thrilled that the Call lead him to such easy prey, but something stayed him before he could make it all the way across the ceiling, before he could drop down and snuff out the life of whatever poor fool slept below. The Call intensified the closer he got to the sleeping sound.

He dropped down from the ceiling, hitting the floor with hardly a sound, and let out another click. The Call was leading him to the sleeping figure, tucked into the bed he had come down in front of. As he listened more closely he came to a slow realization, the Call was the sleeping figure. This being was his Liege, like Teridax had been, like Icarax had tried to be. Chosen by the Dark.

He set his teeth and leaped back into the ceiling. He would wait, until this Kraahkan awoke.

Act I: Hunger: Shadow

Luna awoke to the intense feeling of being watched.

She didn’t move for a long moment, listening intently. One of the guards beyond the door yawned, but beyond that all was utterly silent, not so much as a breath. She carefully opened an eye to glance around, her room seemed the same as ever. The table next to her bed still held the book she’d been reading, the curtains remained drawn, the canopy above her bed staunchly refused to be moved by whatever was observing her.

She narrowed her eyes, moving slowly from beneath her covers to walk over to the curtains, pulling them back to reveal the glass door leading to the balcony, no one was there. Glancing about she lit her horn and concentrated, casting her power out to try and root out a possible scrying spell. Still she found nothing in the long shadows cast by impending twilight, and the feeling persisted.

Careful not to move her head she glanced up at the ceiling, studying the constellation murals painted across it. Nothing seemed out of place. Blast it all, she knew something was there. She heard the lever on the door click and spun to face it, her horn and wings flaring in preparation.

One of the guards opened it, jumping a little at the sight of her. She let out an irritated breath, straightening out her posture as the magic in her horn flickering out.

“I-is something the matter, your highness?” He murmured, giving her a nervous glance.

“Nay, Steady Hoof, I was merely taken by a bout of paranoia, I apol-” the air above the door shimmered a moment, a beast making itself apparent. She only needed a second’s flash of its fangs before she sprung into action.

She leapt, vaulting over Steady Hoof to intercept the creature halfway through its pounce. She felt her hooves impact metal; so, the creature was armoured. Tumbling out into the hall she managed to pin it down, its teeth snapping shut just shy of her muzzle as she glared down at it, pressing one of her hooves against its throat to keep its head down.

It was hideous. The elongated faceplate reminded her of nothing more than the gargoyles of old, its cavernous maw hung open, its wicked fangs bared for a moment before it snapped it shut again, cocking its head from side to side as the two guards came to flank it. Dull, scarlet eyes flickered open and shut for a moment and she felt something vibrate through it, only then did it turn the front of its face towards the guards; it was blind, then.

She glanced down across the rest of it, trapped beneath her. Its forelimbs were massive, a strong, blue leading edge trailing out into polished, metallic blades above the expanses of silvery, batlike wings that ran the length of its body from shoulder down, their thumb claws cruelly hooked and serrated. It seemed to lack anything more than vestigial back limbs, a pair of blue hindclaws grasping at air. In the center of its silvery chest an orange orb faintly glowed.

As she let out a low sound of irritation the beast’s sightless gaze zeroed back in on her, “what manner of creature are’t thou, beast?” She demanded, pressing a bit more firmly with her hoof at its throat. “Make thy purpose clear, afore We make ours.” It cocked its head at her curiously, almost seeming to study her with those blind eyes.

The quick vibration rumbled beneath her hoof again. Its brow furrowed, as if it was having trouble considering something. Its wings folded against its sides and it leaned its head back, exposing its throat, a gesture of submission. Her brow arched, “We shall release thee, but thou art remain here, understood?” An almost conflicted expression crossed its grotesque visage, its head tilting slightly towards Steady Hoof, Luna pressed harder on its throat, “are We understood?”

It nodded slowly, she gave it an approving grunt as she stepped back. It lay there a moment longer, almost seeming dazed before it turned itself over and rose, shaking itself slightly and sitting back on its shriveled hindquarters. After a moment of further silence with no move from the beast Steady Hoof stepped forwards, clearing his throat.

“Your Highness, you’ve slipped into the Royal We,” the beast bared its fangs at the sound of his voice but made no move.

“Ah, apologies, I was caught in the heat of the moment,” she chuckled sheepishly. The beast tilted its head in question. “Hath thee something to say, creature?”

Its brow furrowed again as it gestured to her with one of its wings, then to Steady Hoof, then to its own teeth as it made a biting motion. Luna cocked her head in confusion, “are you asking a question?” The beast nodded. “I do not understand.”

The beast puffed up a moment in what almost seemed like a huff before gesturing to Luna again, miming another bite, and gesturing more forcefully to Steady Hoof.

Luna looked between the two of them a moment before hazarding a guess, “did you think my attack was aimed at him?” The beast nodded. “Why?” Annoyance flashed clear across its face, it gestured to her again before planting both of its wings on the ground and flaring them out, lowering its head like she had when Steady Hoof had opened the door.

Luna blinked, “you were the one watching me?” She growled; it nodded, having the decency to look chastened. She huffed as she thought on what it had communicated, “were you trying to save him?” It shook its head hard, sneering a little like it had been insulted. “Then what?”

It gestured to Steady Hoof, brought up both its wings and slammed them down, miming holding something to the ground, then pointed to Luna and made the biting motion again. “You were… going to help me kill him?” It nodded, an almost prideful look flashing across its features, Luna’s expression creased in no small measure of disgust. “Why?” It cocked its head again, this time seeming utterly uncomprehending.

The communication stalemate lasted for a few long moments before the beast shrugged. There were no words, but the meaning was clear, “why not?”

Luna let out a frustrated groan, “why are you even here, how did you get up here?” It leaned forwards, its head turning from side to side, as if listening intently. Its brow creased and it shook its head, gesturing to Luna and then to the sides of its head before miming a howl. “You were called? By who?” It gestured to her again, but this time its wing swirled with blackness, dark blue bordering the shadow across its limb.

Luna stood straighter, “by me?” It nodded and bowed low, its wings flaring out as its chin nearly touched the floor. The shadows spread across both of its wings and drifted away, splaying themselves across the wall behind it in jagged forms, twisting into the shape of a swooping, three pointed, unfamiliar crown.

Luna’s eyes narrowed, “guards, fetch a length of chain, my sister shall wish to see this.”

______

They were out of time. Antroz was fuming as they made their way to the throne room, Gorast rolled her eyes at him. It had been a longshot anyways, tracking down a rogue Vamprah of all Makuta.

She’d worked with Vamprah exactly once before, and she only saw him at the beginning and end of that mission. The only way she’d even been able to tell he’d done his job during it was the fact that it was done by the time she needed him to have it done, and anyone who gave dark corners a second glance vanished within the hour.

No Witnesses was a creed he lived by, thinking they’d be able to catch him had been foolishness. Now they just needed to skip town, lay low, and wait till folks stopped reporting for duty, then they’d at least have an idea where he’d set up his hunting ground and might have some luck with him deciding he wanted to let them in on it.

Still, she thought as she tested the connections of her arms, unwinding them into four and slipping them back together, she had the feeling he would still be somewhere in the castle. There was something cozy about it, even with that Light wielding Princess roaming the halls.

She didn’t like it.

As the doors to the throne room opened her gaze caught first on the so called Princess of the Night. She felt her feet glue themselves to the floor. Antroz and Chirox hesitated for a brief moment, but without the sight of her whatever force this witch had mastered to draw her breath away had little effect on them. There was a moment, a sickening, awful moment, where she felt her entire body begin to relax, it was like standing next to Teridax at the height of his power.

She grit her teeth, now she knew what made this castle seem comfortable. She despised it.

Tearing her gaze away from the Princess’ piercing cyan eyes she found her own eyes catching next on something that drew her ire enough to drive the feeling of Luna’s presence out of her head entirely.

“Vamprah!?”

______

‘Tia had found her encounter with the Beast- a “Makuta” as she’d called it- quite humorous. Doubly so when Luna had dragged it before her on one of the thickest chains she’d been able to get her hooves upon and it began hissing at her. Say what she would about its ability to follow instructions and not sniff at her guards like freshly baked sweets, it was certainly strong; strong enough that she was sure it could have given her a proper bout had it not been for the combination of her surprising it and the strange affinity it had for her.

Luna couldn’t help but be a tad irritated that her first encounter with one of these new beings had been with a murderous, semi-cooperative mute that seemed to be increasingly irritated she wasn’t snapping at every imagined offense it could conceive of; but after hearing Celestia’s recounting of her meeting with them, she got the feeling none of the Makuta would be forthcoming with their intentions.

Still, she had heeded Celestia’s advice and taken off the Beast’s leash once she’d come to her throne. Instead of bolting like she’d expected it to do, it had settled itself down next to where she was seated and was lounging like some form of enormous cat.

She was currently staring at it. It didn’t move much, didn’t even seem to be breathing. Unless the squirming from inside the luminous orb in its chest counted. She found herself hoping it didn’t.

It suddenly twitched, the side of its head turning towards the door. She would have sworn she saw the flicker of a grin across its lipless mouth. Huffing and resigning herself to being endlessly confused by it she turned to face the door herself as it opened, admitting three more Makuta.

If she thought back on Celestia’s descriptions, the one in the lead, looking for all the world like he was attempting to convince himself he wasn’t furious, would be Antroz.

The one to his right didn’t match any of the descriptions she’d heard so far. His mask appeared to be a silvery counterpart to what the one Celestia had called Mutran wore, but that and the orange orb in its chest that most of the Makuta seemed to share were where the similarities ended. This being’s form was considerably more rugged than any of the others, almost looking like it had been designed to make itself appear part of some metallic cave wall, all matte blacks and polished silver armour. Its wings were even more enormous than the Beast at her side’s, ending in similar, if considerably more angular, rigid silver blades. It was at least a head taller than Antroz, with only two toe claws at the ends of its legs and three fingered hands attached at about the midpoint of its wings, two foreclaws and a thumb claw.

The third, to Antroz’ left that had stopped in the doorway, gaping at her with something resembling awe, matched Celestia’s description of Gorast. Luna arched an eyebrow at her and was about to beacon her forwards when Gorast’s gaze twitched to the Beast and twisted in fury.

“Vamprah!?” She roared, almost making Luna jump as she turned to see what the Beast was doing now. It was yawning, exaggerated as much as possible to show off its fangs before settling back down. Now she was sure it was smirking. Looking back to the other Makuta, she was met with irritation, Antroz in particular was cupping his face in a hand, rubbing at his brow to try and smooth it out.

“I take it my sister was right in assuming this creature was among your number?” Luna asked, attempting to appear as unsurprised by Gorast’s outburst as Celestia would have seemed.

“He’s a smart-masked little Mua-” Gorast started stomping forwards before being cut off by a firm gesture and jab of unfamiliar language from Antroz.

“What has Vamprah done?” He asked, turning back to face the throne.

“Little beyond make a nuisance of himself,” Luna assured them, though if the flaring of Antroz’ eyes was anything to go by it wasn’t working.

“I find that difficult to believe,” he said lowly, placing a hand on one of the blades strapped to his hip.

“You would threaten me?” She shot back, drawing herself up imperiously, “and question my word?” He flinched, almost as if he’d been struck, Gorast sneered, shaking herself, and the third cocked its head, shivering slightly. Vamprah was suddenly at attention, snarling silently at the others.

“No, your Highness,” Antroz said quickly, his eyes flashing slightly brighter red for a moment before he bowed. “Apologies, Vamprah is simply… unpredictable.” His sightless gaze cast about a moment before Vamprah pulled a face and tapped one of his claws on the floor, drawing Antroz’ furious attention. “Especially when he vanishes without telling anyone.”

“With that outburst concluded, may we proceed in proper fashion?” Luna huffed, “though I am sure you have already gathered, I am Princess Luna, Triarch of Equestria, Mistress of the Night and Warden of Dreams.” Gorast and the larger one joined Antroz in bowing their heads as he responded.

“I am Makuta Antroz of Xia, this is Makuta Chirox of Visorak, and Makuta Gorast of the North.”

“And a great many other titles from what I have been told,” Luna bowed her head in return as they rose, “each carrying the songs of great battles and greater victories.” Gorast blinked a little, her attention entirely on Luna for a second before she shook her head and settled a scowl onto her face.

Luna decided to pull a slight page from her sister’s book, the atmosphere had become entirely too oppressive. “You will need to regale me with the tales of their acquisition sometime, noble Gorast.” If anything her scowl deepened, though the others took no notice, Antroz and Chirox relaxing slightly and Vamprah going back to lounging as he had afore they entered.

After a moment of studying Gorast’s expression, Luna let out a quiet sigh and addressed Antroz, “from where does Vamprah hail?” Vamprah shifted slightly, as if considering answering the question himself but settled down once more.

“Vamprah once held providence over the island of Odina,” Antroz began, confidence returning to his movements. “Though since the island was taken from him by the Dark Hunters he has refused all titles.” Luna glanced to Vamprah, who shrugged, seemingly at ease.

“I see,” Luna hummed to herself, “your audience with my sister was cut short by an unsteadiness of both sides, but from what she has told me it would seem you have little need of our assistance beyond simply a bed to lay your heads upon while your brother recovers from the effort of bringing you here; which may be readily given, as long as we have your word you and your siblings will not slink into others’ chambers the way this one did.” Luna gestured to Vamprah, who’s expression had slipped into a placid curiosity, as if he was only half listening to proceedings.

“We need little else,” Antroz agreed, a plastic smile across his face. Celestia had been right, she would need to be careful of this one.

“However,” Luna pressed, “there is the matter of your wording, you wished for asylum, not simply shelter. That implies pursuit, which is of concern to me and my sister. We know little of your war and the forces therein. Leaping worlds is an impressive feat, who would you have to fear chasing you through the chasms between reality?”

“You worry your land will be caught in a crossfire?” Antroz asked, his tone so reasonable she felt she may as well be speaking to an unsigned document. Celestia may have grown deaf to it over the centuries, but Luna recognized a practiced politician's tone when she heard it.

“I worry how you may react should that become a possibility,” Luna narrowed her eyes, “we cannot have a brawl breaking out near our subjects for a war we have no stake in, especially when our knowledge of the powers at work within is so lacking.” Irritation soured Chirox’s expression but before he could speak Antroz pressed on.

“Understandable, we will not ask you to stand for us, at the first sign of incursion we will do our best to be out of your way.” He was still dancing around the question. “It is most likely we will be able to protect our fallen brother by our own means, at most what we wish for is an early warning, a heads up to ensure we know if our enemies come for us.”

“I will repeat my question,” Luna’s patience was already beginning to wear thin with his attempts to deflect the question. “What force do you expect to follow you?”

“It is not important, you will most likely never have to bother yourselves with them, even if they do arrive. They will be focused on us, which will present us with an opportunity to return home and you may continue on as if none of this ever happened.”

Luna remained silent for a long moment, glancing down at Vamprah out of the corner of her eye, despite his outward stillness the side of his headplate was twitching slightly in her direction and his diminutive legs were tucked beneath him. He was listening carefully, though to her, not Antroz, ready and willing to pounce on her command. For some reason, the thought brought down her rising temper.

“And if they are not focused on you? If they decide to occupy our territory while they pursue you?”

“Then we will both have an opportunity to press the advantage, their focus will be split and it will be simple to drive them off your land.” Antroz’ smile actually softened a little, this was more than just a politician, this was a merchant hawking broken wares by speaking only of what was still intact.

“If the force is so trivial, why are you here?” Luna decided to change her angle of attack, “yes, I know you were trapped when your plan fell into place, but if your enemies were as simple to defeat as you say, surely you could have pushed past them to escape.” Antroz’ stride hitched. “Why do you need asylum from foes you could best while numbering only five if given even the slightest distraction?” Antroz tensed for a moment, Chirox almost seemed to pulse disdain, though his focus didn’t seem to lie on anything in the room, and Gorast looked as though she may speak if she could only trust her voice.

“They are known as the Toa,” Chirox was the one who stepped forwards. “Self proclaimed heroic fools. Alone or in pairs they are of small concern and smaller threat, but they are… formidable,” he spat, “in a proper group.” Antroz’ hands clenched and he closed his eyes, pulling his arms in close to his body, Gorast winced, some mechanism in her body whirring.

“Self proclaimed heroes?” Luna said carefully, looking across them once again. Her sister had mentioned that their appearance had set her on edge and Luna had to admit, they hardly cut a valiant figure. A menagerie of monstrosities, more like. Antroz hesitated.

“Celestia told you the purpose of our war, yes?” He asked, seeming more nervous now. Luna hummed her assent. “The Toa and their allies were not told. So when it began, they saw the disaster, a God, their World, falling silent, breaking down around them, without a clear purpose in sight. They think we are obsessed with power instead of striving for our preservation, so they believe their resistance justified, and they style themselves heroes.”

“And they would have refused you either way.” Luna’s suspicion had been roused by Vamprah’s earlier behavior, and they were doing little to keep it at bay.

“It was meant to be a swift transition.” Antroz continued to explain, “over in the course of a day, but we were scattered to the winds. Mata Nui had many moving parts that needed attending to, both to stop their function and restart them quickly. While we were distracted a group of six Toa cornered our leader, Teridax, who was meant to be the one to take the Great Spirit’s place, and captured him.

“Within the hour, when there was no signal to restart the machinery, we knew something went wrong, but it was weeks before the details became clear. We sent agents to see to his release, but by the time we were successful it was too late. The Great Spirit had been deactivated for too long, the world was dying.”

He let out a long, rattling breath, curious as he hadn’t seemed to take one in, “we restarted as much as we could to buy time, a thousand years of it, but the damage was done.”

“You had plans for if this happened, yes?” Luna pressed, this seemed a colossal risk to take. Though, she had little room to judge in that regard. She grimaced at the thought.

“There were failsafes implemented into Mata Nui’s body that would activate in this sort of event, and we had backup plans of our own, but the Toa took the activators for both and fled to a place outside of our reach. The Toa blamed us, we blamed them, the world sided with the Toa, and a masterstroke that was meant to take an hour turned into a war that stretched on for a thousand years too long. Long enough for grudges,” he gave Chirox a firm swat on the arm, “to form on both sides.”

“I understand,” Luna hummed, “and you fear not even this degree of separation will be enough to stay such an ancient vexation should they learn of your survival.” She ruffled her feathers a bit, “but you also believe it shall be enough to give them tunnel vision should such a thing come to pass.”

“Exactly,” Antroz replied, a bit of his easy smile returning.

“And yet,” Luna began, Antroz’ smirk hitching, “you still have yet to tell me anything of any tactical value.” Luna studied him a moment, he seemed surprised, she allowed herself a sharp grin at the sight of it. Where Celestia was a dagger, carefully aimed to slip between layers of an argument to expose the core, Luna was a battering ram, indelicate and relentless to smash through to what she sought.

She gave him a moment to gather his thoughts, she could tell he had expected her to be swayed by his story somewhat, to at least let him put off answering the question until he could be sure whether they would be followed or not. He needed to reevaluate his tactics, and just as his smile began to return, she pressed the advantage.

Clearing her throat, she began, “I now know their motivations, should they arrive, but that will be of little use. I need to know what they-” her breath hitched a moment and she coughed to cover it as she realized the reason for his reluctance. He didn’t want to tell her their enemy’s strengths, because that would give her a reference point to learn theirs- “are capable of, so we may prepare in the event of an invasion.”

Another moment of silence passed, her next words would need to be carefully chosen. “I don’t know how aware you are of this, but your entrance into our world decimated a sizable public space and every living creature therein, through sheer luck alone were none of our subjects were harmed.” Bait the Hook, “there are but six of you. I shudder to imagine what an army arriving in such a manner might do to our city and our subjects.” Throw the Line.

“Oh, no, that would be impossible,” Antroz started. And Sinker. “What we did was unprecedented, an act of brute force that we weren’t sure would work and has put our brother on death’s door. Travel between worlds is generally much more streamlined and safe, if more exclusive. The only true method is with the-” he stopped suddenly, confusion writ plain across his face.

“Go on,” she said firmly, frustration biting at her that he may have recognized her bait for what it was.

“I apologize, there is no direct word for the concept I need to convey here in your language.” He took a moment longer, Luna suspected he was using it to rebalance himself, but interrupting would give up the game entirely.

He straightened up again, “it will have to be a more literal translation. The Kanohi Olmak, Mask of Power Over Dimensional Gateways.” He grimaced, “Kanohi feels much better to say than Mask of Power.” She suspected his expression had more to do with the information he was parting with than how the words felt to speak aloud. “It makes transportation between worlds a simple affair, the only true problem, is that the Toa are in direct contact with one of the three people who have one; a blade for hire by the name of Brutaka.”

“Ah,” was Luna’s unimpressed answer.

“But, they would still have to first learn we survived, then discover what exactly Krika did, then trace us through the void between worlds to pinpoint our location in this world. The odds against them managing all of that are astronomical.”

“Are there other sorts of these Kanohi?” Luna asked, “with different abilities?”

“Yes,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation.

“And what could these Toa and their allies do if they arrived?”

“It would be easier to list the things they can’t do,” Chirox grumbled, earning himself an almost vicious pat on the back from Antroz.

“And what can’t they do?”

“Kill,” Gorast finally spoke up for the first time since her earlier outburst, her voice quieter than Luna would have expected. “Toa don’t kill, and they think it makes them better than anyone else.” There was a minute shudder in her fingertips as she clenched her fists, “but they’ll do worse things without batting an eye.”

Luna thought for a moment, it wasn’t much, but it was actionable information. Glancing across the three of them, she could see them steeling themselves. She wouldn’t get anything more out of them this time. “As you say, the chances of your enemies actually succeeding in tracking you down are small enough to be near nonexistent, but the threat presented by that possibility still must be taken into account. I will confer with my sister on what to do with you, children of the Dark.” She gestured back towards the door, “until the morrow, return to your rooms; we will send someone to fetch you once we make our decision.”

The Makuta bowed and turned to go, Antroz hesitating a moment.

“It was a pleasure speaking with you,” he said before leaving the room.

“Likewise,” Luna gave him a nod, smirking to herself, she’d heard that tone on more than one occasion, congratulations on a game well played.

______

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Chirox drawled to himself as they walked, Gorast growled her assent.

“No it wasn’t,” Antroz murmured back, drawing Gorast’s gaze, so he had felt it too, “and that’s exactly the problem.” He turned his head towards Gorast, “what time of day is it, is the sun still up?”

Gorast glanced out a window, the sky was dark, “no.”

“We restrict our movements to the day from now on,” Antroz grit his teeth, “she’s a threat to our goals. If you encounter her again, find an excuse to come back to me. As far as I’m concerned, Vamprah is already compromised, keep your contact with him to a minimum,” he chuckled, “not that he seeks us out to begin with.”

Gorast couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed, it wasn’t often she got to actually talk about her victories. She quashed the thought, it wouldn’t have been a concern before they escaped Karda Nui, simply more proof of the Princess’ aura.

“We got one thing workable out of this,” Chirox said, dismissively waving one of his wings, “they don’t even have a word for them, Kanohi don’t exist here.”

______

Celestia watched carefully across her desk as Luna paced in front of it. She’d been taking a final look over the documents she’d been given today when Luna had stormed in, ordering the Makuta who had been trailing her most of the night to wait outside the door. To Celestia’s surprise Vamprah had obeyed. Even once Luna had cast the soundproofing spell on the room she’d noticed no activity from him beyond the door.

She considered what Luna had told her of her meeting with the other Makuta, and Celestia had noticed two details that interested her.

“With how evasive they are determined to be about the details of the conflict that brought them here and what abilities they possess, ‘tis easy to argue that they are war criminals, and we cannot set precedent by sheltering them if that is the case.” Luna muttered, more to herself than anything else if her half-focused gaze was anything to go by.

“A war does not rage for a thousand years without atrocity,” Celestia said, regaining Luna’s attention, “it becomes increasingly difficult to prevent overzealous generals from running rampant with each year that passes,” she shook her head. “I had trouble enough keeping mine in line during the two decades it took to reunite Equestria after… well, our seperation.” Luna didn’t wince, Celestia still couldn’t stop herself from grimacing slightly. She chided herself, how was it Luna could think of Nightmare Moon yet she still quailed at the memory. “I cannot imagine how vicious it could have gotten had we been at war for the entirety of your banishment.”

“But?” Luna pressed, Celestia gave her a soft smile.

“But, we have nothing other than their caution and reservations to support that as a theory; they have been torn from their world and thrown into one entirely unfamiliar to them. We have been kind to them so far, but they have no way of knowing how long that will last or what may cause us to turn on them.” She sighed, “I cannot say I would give up my life’s story or my strengths any easier.”

“They seemed quite willing to speak of their motivations,” Luna shot back, Celestia shook her head.

“They’ve given us grand events, broad strokes, histories over a thousand years in the past. Purely impersonal.” Celestia stood, “but they have given us some knowledge of use.”

“Beyond assurance that pursuing them would be a fool’s errand?”

“Yes, the first is that they seem to be drawn to you.”

“Excuse me?” Luna sputtered.

“Gorast spent her entire meeting with me ensuring she was ready to fight and I knew it, how would you describe her while speaking to you?”

“Irritable, yet relatively calm,” Luna pondered for a moment, “deliberate, her disdain performative, she had to remind herself of it more than once. She seemed lost in thought for much of it, comfortable in silence.”

“Compare that to what I’ve told you about how she behaved with me?” Celestia walked around her desk, giving Luna a gentle nudge. Luna’s eyes darted back towards the door, where Vamprah still waited, unmoving.

“I suppose,” she nodded. “Though, is that not foul play? Vamprah told of a Call, some siren’s song that guided him to me, to take advantage of something like that…” Her gaze hardened a little.

Celestia draped one of her wings around Luna’s shoulders, Luna leaned against her side. “I think I will need to reorganize my thoughts on them if I am to do that. There is something familiar about them,” she tilted her head towards the door, “some yearning not unlike greed, yet buried deeper within them. I would like to learn its source.”

“Why?” Celestia asked, smiling as Luna’s gaze softened.

“I believe, I would like to help them.” She nodded to herself.

“And then, we come to the second piece of information they gave us,” Celestia sighed, Luna blinked, startled that Celestia was forging ahead.

“What, sister?”

“These Kanohi, Masks of Power. Have you noticed?” Celestia’s own thoughts hardened as she turned her mind to the problem at hoof. She felt Luna stiffen a little against her side. “All six of the Makuta wear masks.”

Author's Note

Hello there, I'm planning on updating this fic once a week sometime during the weekends. Only issue is I've had problems with maintaining a schedule before, so if I miss a couple don't freak out too bad, I'm probably just having some trouble ironing out some details.

Act I: Hunger: Momentum

Krika was still unconscious by the time the sun had risen again. Mutran was beginning to feel a tinge of worry, not that he would ever allow any of them to know he cared even in the slightest.

He examined Krika as closely as he could, but unlike Gorast, Krika hadn’t been reduced to a mere physical stature, still a gaseous cloud of Antidermis within his armour. He had been curious about that for all of ten seconds before he’d caught sight of the Kanohi Crast in the corner of his eye. Then he’d felt foolish for ever assuming Krika had been under the influence of the Mutagen in the first place.

The problem with that, however, was it made it incredibly difficult for him to tell what sort of state Krika was in. Physical ailments simply hadn’t existed for them in over two thousand years, he had no point of reference to pull from. There was still Antidermis in him, as far as Mutran could tell it was still active, the quiet murmuring of it just audible as he pressed the side of his mask up against Krika’s armour. Yet he still wasn’t waking. As far as Mutran could tell this should be impossible, their kind didn’t sleep, not even Gorast, a coma was unthinkable.

Though as he thought about it, he had the sneaking suspicion Gorast might be reaching the limits of the biomechanics the Mutagen had reintroduced to her form after her behavior through the night.

As he drew back from Krika’s chest he growled to himself, grasping at one of his elbows as his other hand went up to his mask and he began biting at one of his claws. An ancient nervous habit, but it helped him concentrate.

Krika would fade at this rate, that much was sure. On the one hand, it was of no concern to Mutran personally, on the other, he owed his brother for getting them out of the Storm. The thought sent a loathsome tremble through his being. To be indebted to a spineless fool like Krika wouldn’t do. He had to save his brother or he would have that niggling in the back of his mind for the rest of his considerable lifespan.

He glanced over to Chirox, perched at the window and drinking his fill of the rich sunlight streaming through. The two of them always had worked better as a team. Perhaps- He shook his head, clenching the hand before his face into a fist as he crushed the thought. Chirox would hold this as much against him as Krika would hold their rescue. No, he had to do this alone.

He began thinking on the Storm again, none of them had attempted to strip Krika of his mask since they had arrived, but perhaps it was time to change that. He had guessed yesterday at how long they had been tossed around in the maelstrom but it had been just that, a guess. If he had a baseline for how long any of them could maintain use of the Crast he might be able to create some real calculations for how long they’d been in there, and from there work out just how much it had taken Krika to push his way out of their world.

He needed a lab, a proper one. There was only one problem. Acquiring it would require going through the natives or building one himself. Going through the natives would be quicker and likely more reliable, but it would also mean he would need to learn to operate the tools they used. Not to even mention that he would be recording valuable data on Makuta physiology and its apparent limits right in front of their eyes, which Antroz would find unacceptable. Creating a lab of his own in secret would provide him with a greater level of customization and the appropriate discretion, but it would be an arduous process of trial and error that he didn’t know if he had the time for. He had no idea how much time he had, but one thing was clear to him.

He couldn’t let his brother die.

Purely to wipe away his debt, of course. For now, though.

“Chirox, you prat, get away from the window,” he would shove Krika’s bed in front of whatever window the most sunlight was coming from and hope he would eat enough to sustain himself in his sleep.

______

Celestia was in a unique position at the moment. Luna had gone to bed shortly after sunrise and, according to the guard that had come- slightly panicked- to find her in the dining hall, Vamprah had vanished shortly thereafter.

She sipped her morning tea and considered the guard, wondering how to tell him that she was quite aware of Vamprah’s location. Would it be unduly cruel to simply point up and let him see the predator hanging above his head? Or would it be worse to claim ignorance and see if Vamprah would reveal himself? She really should just explain the situation calmly to avoid putting unnecessary stress on the poor colt’s nerves. Having the Makuta about had already put much of the guard on edge, she really shouldn’t be feeding their paranoia.

“Well,” an idea came to her, “as long as we’re looking for him, you should fetch someone to check on the other Makuta, and if you come across him, ask Vamprah to come see me. We haven’t had the chance to speak properly.”

In his spot nestled into the ceiling of the dining hall, Vamprah twitched slightly. “I will inform you if he somehow answers my summons on his own.” The guard saluted and Vamprah shifted, dropping his camouflage as he readied himself to drop down. If the way he was shifting out of the guard’s path was any indication, he didn’t intend to repeat the debacle with Steady Hoof. Celestia’s gentle smile grew just the tiniest bit sharper at the edge. “Ah, would you look at that, he has,” she said, gesturing up towards Vamprah.

The guard and Vamprah both jolted, Vamprah nearly losing his grip on the ceiling for the space of a blink as the guard looked up at him.

“Oh, so he has.” He said a little numbly, but Celestia allowed herself a silent chuckle, congratulating herself for both managing to get her trick off and avoid causing a panic. Vamprah simply narrowed his eyes and dropped down a good distance in front of the guard, cocking his head.

“With that out of the way, would you mind checking on the others?” Celestia said, keeping her tone serene as she took another sip of her tea, “see if there’s anything they need, or any concerns they might need addressed.”

The guard looked between the two of them a moment, opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it and just nodded, heading out of the room.

Once he had left Celstia set down her teacup, “you’re quite the slinker, aren’t you?” Celestia kept her eyes on Vamprah, quite confident that if her attention lapsed he’d find a way to slip away without her noticing. His eyes were still narrowed, but at least he wasn’t hissing like last time.

She let out a gentle sigh, letting her hoof rap against the table as she gestured to a cushion next to her, “won’t you sit? I promise not to bite.” He tilted his head and planted his wings firmly against the ground, the tilt of his fangs clear in their question.

Keeping her voice firm but inviting she answered, “because Luna is beginning to grow fond of you, it would be beyond irresponsible to muddy those waters.” He stayed in place for another long moment but deflated and approached, setting himself down on the cushion.

She nodded, “I have only three questions for you today, Vamprah. They are simple, yes or no, but their answers will greatly benefit me and my sister. Understand?”

He regarded her with plain suspicion before raising one of his thumbclaws and gesturing to himself. “You want me to answer a question of yours in return?” He nodded. She considered him for a moment, there weren't many questions he could ask that would let him cause real damage, and one of her questions might have a sensitive answer. “Fair enough, you first.”

His brow furrowed as he thought for a long moment. Celestia waited patiently, he didn’t appear to know any forms of proper sign language, so she supposed it would take him a moment to communicate his question. He unfurled a wing, splaying its expanse across the table as his eyes began to swirl with green and yellow. Celestia cocked her head as she felt him weaving illusion magic, tucking away the knowledge that he- and therefor potentially any of the Makuta- could do that.

She blinked as a ball of light formed above his wing, shining bright; he nodded his head towards her. “That is me?” He nodded again and the light twisted, dimming and molding itself into the form of a mask, angular and rigid, with swooping fins across the top and sides. “Is that one of your Kanohi?” His mouth twitched before he huffed and gave a sort of half-nod. “A mask of the sun?” He shook his head, “a mask of Light?” Seemingly satisfied with her understanding he sent the image of the mask apparently representing her off to hover above his wingtip.

A ball of darkness rose from his wing next and he looked up, “is that Luna?” He nodded once more and the shadow stretched and warped, forming another mask, this one made up of swooping curves. Where the Mask of Light had been all rigid lines, this one seemed far more organic, coming up to three smooth spires. “A mask of Shadow?”

He brought that one closer to himself, keeping the side of his head turned towards her to listen carefully. There was a moment’s pause before the two masks shot at each other to meet in the center of his wing, impacting one another and shattering apart, suspended in an illusory explosion in the center of his wing. Celestia flinched back slightly and Vamprah folded his wing, his eyes dimming to their usual dull red as the illusion flickered out.

Celestia took a moment to compose herself. “You wish to know if my sister and I have fought before.” He nodded. “We… I made a mistake, a thousand years ago, and we fought. It was brief, but the consequences…” She suppressed a shudder and a cold wash of shame. Vamprah settled back on his hindlimbs, regarding her with renewed curiosity. “My apologies, it is an unpleasant memory. I care for my sister very much, and missed her dearly during the thousand years we were forced apart by our actions in that battle. I do not believe I would have the nerve to do what I did again.”

His face was uncomprehending for a long moment. “I understand you don’t trust me, Vamprah." She sighed, "I understand that in the world you are accustomed to beings of light such as myself hold beings like Luna and yourself in contempt.” She put as much conviction as she could muster into her voice, which- as many of the more unruly nobles could attest- was a formidable thing. “But believe me when I say, it is not so between my sister and I. She is one of the dearest in my world.”

Vamprah seemed to consider her for a long moment before rising. Celestia blinked, half expecting him to take his leave, as a strange sensation settled into the back of her mind, like the knowledge of something unseen watching her. Instead he bowed and moved closer, setting himself down to lounge next to her seat. There was a moment of silent surprise that as it dragged on Celestia found transforming into a sort of companionable calm. Well, that answered her first question. She smiled to herself and took another sip of her tea, it seemed earning the trust of at least one of the Makuta was simpler than she’d expected.

After a few more minutes spent in quiet Celestia was brought back to the moment by a burst of green next to her head. Her gaze softened as the flame resolved itself into a scroll. Breaking the seal she looked it over and giggled to herself. “Seems my old student’s schedule isn’t as rigid as she makes it out to be when the chance to meet aliens arises.”

Vamprah cocked his head and Celestia set herself back to business, she needed to open court within the next half hour anyways. She cleared her throat to catch Vamprah's attention as she began. “First question, you told Luna that there was something that called you to her, something that made you defer to her at once. Could you resist that effect if you wished to?” He nodded and waved a wing like he was brushing away some slightly irritating insect, she took that to mean he could rather easily, but he didn’t care to.

She nodded, that would go a long way in easing Luna’s mind. “Second,” she took a breath, “would you trust your siblings?” He shook merrily, wheezing with laughter before shaking his head and gesturing decisively with a wing. Celestia felt some of the wind leave her sails. “Wondrous.”

______

Twilight could hardly contain herself, bouncing on her hooves a bit as she watched Canterlot speed closer. She hadn’t been able to keep herself from pacing in the train car, much to Spike’s annoyance. She was probably putting an absurd amount of stress on herself, but this was big! Aliens! Real aliens no one had ever seen before, not alternate dimension versions of people she knew, no mirror someone else built and then abandoned somewhere. This could be the discovery of the millenium!

“What do we even say? Welcome to Equestria? What’s the weather like where you come from?” She rounded on Spike, “do you mind if I get some really in-depth data on your physiology?” He jumped in his seat and Twilight had to conclude she was getting a bit too intense there. She chuckled sheepishly and smoothed her mane down.

“I think ‘welcome to Equestria’ will be fine, Twilight,” Spike said, gesturing for her to calm down. “Celestia said one of them is injured or something, maybe ask them about that, if they need any help or anything.”

“That’s genius, Spike, it could go a long way towards establishing a dialogue.” She started pacing again, “of course then there’s the possibility of a language gap, Celestia said they learned enough to communicate, but who knows how many higher concepts we’re going to have trouble articulating between us.”

“Twilight, if you keep this up you’re gonna end up talking really slow when you meet them, then they’ll be insulted and you won’t get anywhere.” Spike crossed his arms, giving her an irritated grimace.

Twilight took a deep breath to calm herself, sat down, and almost immediately began rattling off scenarios again.

It was just after noon by the time they arrived. Twilight had run herself out of possibilities that didn’t end in disaster, but she’d learned that if she started down that road she wouldn’t stop and that wouldn’t end well for anybody.

She had considered a couple of them, though. Just in case.

Princess Celestia was waiting for her at the entrance to the castle and, as Twilight exchanged greetings with her old mentor and Spike set off to find their usual room, she was suddenly struck with an intense feeling of being watched. Her ears folded back against her head as she glanced around.

“Something the matter, Twilight?” Celestia asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is there,” Twilight stopped for a moment to listen, “someone else here?”

“Why yes, I was hoping to introduce you to-” Celestia’s sentence broke off as she looked at the empty hall behind her, “ah.” She let out a gentle sigh, turning to head back towards a meeting room. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but it seems my guest really is as skittish as his siblings made him out to be.”

“Guest?” Twilight asked, following close beside her. That feeling wasn’t going away, she couldn’t help but keep her head on a swivel, though seeing Celestia’s gaze and stride so steady helped set her at ease a little. She may have graduated from being Celestia’s student and have gained comparable rank, but Celestia would always be something of a goalpost in her mind, an indicator of how serious any given situation was.

“One of the six beings who arrived has taken a liking to my sister and I,” she chuckled softly, “primarily dearest Luna.” She glanced up to the ceiling a moment, “he had been with me, but evidently he’s the suspicious sort when it comes to new people.”

Celestia held open the door to the meeting room for a long moment, Twilight blinked before realizing Celestia probably wanted her to go first, she darted into the room with a flustered grin. Celestia masked a giggle and followed, closing the door behind herself.

That feeling of being watched abated for a moment, but then returned just as strongly. She looked across the room, Celestia’s favoured meeting chamber, the one with the wide table and a side open to the gardens. There was a small pile of something on the far end of the table, but beyond that she couldn’t spot anything out of place.

“S-sorry,” she murmured, turning back to face Celestia and remembering her excitement. “One of the Makuta? They’re already trying to be friendly?” Celestia’s smile was implacable, apparently there were hiccups.

“One of them,” Celestia’s gaze flicked to the ceiling again and this time Twilight followed it. “The others are more cautious. Which is understandable, considering their method of arrival, but it has kept things on a single meeting basis.” The ceiling seemed the same as ever at a glance, but as Twilight kept her gaze on it she noticed the difference.

That patch of ceiling was slightly lower than the rest. Twilight felt her breath catch as the feeling suddenly had shape. Whatever that was, it was watching her and Celestia both. “I knew you’d be able to spot him soon enough,” Celestia said with a gentle laugh. Twilight looked back down to her.

“Who?” There was movement in the corner of her eye and she flinched away from it. Now that she knew what to look for it was almost like a piece of the wall had jumped forwards till it was almost right up in her face. A pair of glowing yellow eyes opened and she shouted, scrambling back a couple steps.

“Twilight, I would like to you meet Makuta Vamprah.” The yellow light faded to a dull red and the image of the wall behind him fell away like water. Twilight was suddenly face to face with the Makuta. His pupilless eyes didn’t seem focused on anything, but she still felt like he was observing her more intently than she’d ever been watched by anyone before.

“Um, hello,” she cleared her throat, her heart practically pounding in it. Being this close to a human had been strange, but even beyond the angular armour there was something downright nerve wracking about Vamprah. He cocked his head, the blades of his thumb claws tapping against the ground as he continued to consider her.

He nodded firmly and she had to stop herself from flinching. His posture was predatory, right down to the way he held his head, his forelimbs braced against the ground, those tiny hindlimbs tucked close, ready to spring out. His mouth opened slightly, showing off his fangs as a wheezing noise like laughter came from him. He leaned in close, his sightless eyes inches from hers, she found herself frozen.

“Vamprah,” Celestia’s warning came at the same moment as Vamprah suddenly moved back, cocking the side of his head towards a door at the far end of the room. “I’m sorry, Twilight, he doesn’t speak, whether by choice or ability I can’t say. He doesn’t mean any harm, but he very much enjoys the effect he has on most ponies.” Celestia turned to give Vamprah an irritated look as Twilight tried to get her breathing under control. “I had hoped he could contain himself for a moment.”

“It’s alright,” Twilight said firmly, “I’ve had a lot of time with Discord lately, this is nothing.” Vamprah nodded and a bit of the weight came off the strange aura he had, she felt she’d just earned some measure of respect from him. “It’s an honor to meet you, Vamprah.” She offered her hoof. He shifted his weight a moment before reaching out and pressing the forward edge of his wing to her hoof with a soft clink.

She had to stop herself from immediately launching into questions about his armour. It moved silently around him, it looked mechanical yet it curved and bent with his movement seamlessly. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Come,” Celestia said, taking her spot at the nearest end of the table. “The others should be arriving shortly, you’ll have plenty of time to ask questions.” She gestured towards a place near the center of the table. Twilight was suddenly reminded that her meeting with the Makuta was for more than just her curiosity; this was a diplomatic meeting, for which she was the primary speaker. She swallowed, taking her spot.

“Is there anything I should know?”

“They see themselves as at a distinct disadvantage,” Celestia said with a sigh, “as such they have been very careful with what they let us know about them. They don’t trust we will not attack them if given the chance.”

Twilight hummed to herself, her feathers ruffling, if they believed themselves under threat, she would just have to set them at ease. But how to do that? She glanced over at Celestia, she sometimes intentionally bungled things to make herself seem more approachable, but if the Makuta believed a fight could break out at any moment doing that would only make her look like a weak point in the chain for them to push through if they needed.

If she let just how excited she was for this meeting shine through too clearly they might think she was just clumsily feeling around for some weakness to exploit. She groaned a bit, it was tough enough not to pepper Vamprah with questions. Showing concern could work, but it would depend heavily on no one having tried that before turning on them in the past.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out with a resolute firmness; passive, reactive, don’t push, but don’t back down. She would have to let them come to her; don’t jump to conclusions, don’t fill in the gaps, let them steer the meeting.

She opened her eyes and glanced over to Celestia, her old mentor’s expression lifted with pride. Twilight felt her cheeks start to burn a bit. Just how much of her thoughts had shown on her face? There was a knock on the door at the far end of the room. “Ready, Twilight?”

“Yes,” Twilight responded, fighting down her blush, straightening out her posture and raising her voice, “enter.”

One of the guards opened the door and through strode three of the Makuta. Antroz in the lead, flanked by Chirox and Mutran. Mutran was murmuring something to Antroz, brow furrowed, though Antroz’ face remained neutral. He waited until they had reached the table before raising a hand, Mutran fell silent with a quiet snarl. Something had happened, the situation had changed.

Twilight gently cleared her throat and bowed her head, “it is an honor to meet you, Makutas Antroz, Chirox, and Mutran.” Antroz’ brow quirked slightly, Chirox’ eyes narrowed, but Mutran’s irritated sneer slid away into curiosity. Twilight felt like she’d already overstepped herself. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle.” They bowed in return.

“Greetings, Princess,” Antroz started, “we were told your schedule is very tight, I hope we didn’t pull you away from anything too important.”

“Not exactly,” Twilight assured them, though she couldn’t help remembering how she’d practically dragged Starlight into the principal's office while shouting about aliens last night. “It’s not every day we get visitors from an entirely unknown reality.” Antroz cocked his head. She was starting to notice the Makuta had a way of doing that, that made it seem more like a threat than anything else.

None of these three gave off quite the same level of intensity that Vamprah did, but she could still feel herself being cross examined by them. “This takes precedence anyways.”

“And why would that be?” Chirox huffed, she could tell he’d primarily meant that in a dismissive fashion. Their entrance had been quite explosive, and she got a feeling of arrogance from him that the others didn’t quite give off.

“It’s a great opportunity, for both our peoples,” Twilight answered regardless. “Your technology is fascinating to see in action, and I’m sure we each have forms of magic the other hasn’t experienced yet that could go a long ways towards understanding it and each other.” Chirox’ eyebrow joined Antroz’, but Mutran’s curiosity almost seemed to erupt into an eagerness Twilight had only ever seen in the mirror before. “And that’s not even considering the cultural impacts we could have on one another in the future.”

There was a long moment of silence where Twilight assumed the three of them were getting their bearings. If they had expected a fight, she had no doubt thrown them a curveball. Mutran leaned close to Antroz to whisper something.

“Be that as it may,” Antroz took control back of the meeting, “we aren’t here for that. We’re here to discuss where we stand right now.”

“You need shelter, and someone to help you with your brother’s recovery, of course.” Twilight flashed her best winning smile, “I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.” Mutran seized the initiative.

“Are there research facilities nearby?” Antroz jerked, his claws tensing at his sides.

“There are a few within the area surrounding Canterlot,” Twilight said, having trouble keeping the anticipation out of her own voice. “If you want my suggestion, I’d say the one at Celestia’s Academy has the most versatile array of equipment, most of the others were built for specific purposes.”

Mutran nodded, and Chirox’s brow was furrowed in consideration now, Twilight thought about pressing the matter, but a glance at Antroz told her that he would go on the defensive as soon as she did.

“While the offer is appreciated, it won’t be necessary,” Antroz said. “We have the situation with Krika under control for the time being.”

“He-” Mutran started before Antroz cut him off with a quick string of sharp, unfamiliar language.

“Krika is your injured brother?” Twilight hazarded, hoping to keep things from getting tense enough between the two of them to scrap the meeting.

“Yes,” Antroz said firmly, holding up his hand for silence from the others again. “Though as I said, it is under control. He will recover in due time.”

“Of course,” Twilight said calmly, “we don’t want to intrude on the way you care for yourselves, but if there is anything we can do to help, you only need to ask.” Antroz’ eyes narrowed and Twilight felt she’d already breached the point of no return.

“Thank you, I will consider the offer.” His head twitched slightly towards Mutran and Twilight felt her stomach sink. He thought she was trying to turn his companions against him. She cursed silently, so much for setting them at ease. “Do we have an answer on the matter of asylum?”

“My vote is for,” Twilight attempted to assure them. Antroz’ brow twitched, that wasn’t going to work either, “but I can’t speak for Princess Celestia or Princess Luna.”

“Thank you,” he said tersely, shooting another string of their language at his companions as he bowed. “It has been an honor to meet you as well, your Highness.”

“Just Twilight, please,” she said, hoping to keep him from leaving the table dissatisfied. He paused for a moment, his expression blank as he considered her. His dull eyes flashed and Twilight experienced a moment of utmost certainty that although he was blind he was looking directly into her, a chill running through her like she’d brushed against cold steel. A smile began to tug at the edges of his mouth and Twilight was reminded of the report Frigid Wind had given of telepathy.

He wasn’t pushing, just sort of hovering around the edges of her consciousness, reading intent. Twilight blinked, she must have really confused him for him to take such a risk.

“Twilight then, it’s been a pleasure.” He turned to leave and Twilight felt the cold begin to withdraw. In a move she couldn’t honestly say was advisable she focused on it; he wasn’t going to push deeper into her, but that couldn’t stop her from pushing out to him. She projected as much of a feeling of honesty as she could and let out a single thought. I mean you no harm. His stride hitched and he almost turned his head, but he continued, though with a bit less aggression in his step.

As soon as they were out of the room Twilight couldn’t help but groan, resting her head on the table.

“I messed that up,” she mumbled, hiding her head behind her wings. Celestia chuckled softly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Celestia said, moving closer so she could drape a wing around her shoulders, “though it wasn’t your intention, you’re the first of us to make him fold.” Twilight groaned louder.

_______

Antroz’ overall tolerance for Mutran had taken a dive over the last few hours, but this had been a setback he couldn’t ignore. No matter what he said, the ponies now knew the Makuta didn’t know what they were doing when it came to Krika.

“Mutran,” he growled, Mutran had the wherewithal to pause a moment before responding.

“Yes, Antroz?” He sounded nervous, good.

“Never, undermine me like that in front of them again.” Antroz let his hand rest on the handle of one of his sickles, the threat implicit. “If I say something is under control, it is under control, understood?” The pause was considerably more resentful this time.

“Yes, Antroz.”

“Good,” Antroz knew that wouldn’t last, but it would at least buy him a little time without Mutran second guessing everything he said. He heard Chirox snicker at the scolding.

The rest of their trip back to the room was spent in silence.

“Anything useful?” Gorast snipped when they returned. He could tell watching over Krika had chafed her, but he’d thought he’d need her aggression out of the way while dealing with the youngest Princess. He hadn’t been wrong, but he couldn’t say he’d been right either.

“Their intentions are clear now,” Antroz shot back, drawing a curious sound from Chirox. “They honestly see this as a cultural exchange, a chance to gain allies in the wider universe.” He let a growl slip back into his voice, “and despite Mutran’s indelicate handling of the situation, I think we may be able to use his outburst to cash in the one asset we have to gain three.”

“I only said anything because I knew you wouldn’t, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” Mutran muttered.

“I know what your concern is,” Antroz snapped back, “we all know, he should never have been out of commission for this long. Maybe he should be having trouble moving, but he shouldn’t be completely insensate like this.”

“Regardless of our brother’s state, what do you mean by exploiting assets?” Chirox pushed.

“All we have is knowledge of ourselves, but if their intentions are as harmless as they seem, we can give that up in exchange for their trust, access to knowledge of this world, and wiping away our debt to Krika.” He grimaced, “as much as I hate to admit it, Mutran is right, we owe him right now, I’d prefer to keep that to a minimum.” He let out a sarcastic chuckle, “perhaps, by showing a willingness to work with these people we might even be able to get Krika to cooperate with us properly.”

“And then what?” Gorast asked, grinding her claws.

“Then, we find a way back, and we may just have allies against whatever we have to go back to.”

Author's Note

Guess which part of this chapter went through like six revisions.

Act I: Hunger: Brotherhood

Luna woke that evening to find both Celestia and Twilight Sparkle in the dining hall. She nodded to them as she sat down across from her sister.

“Good evening, Luna, I’ve already sent for your breakfast,” Celestia said. Luna nodded her thanks.

“Good evening, Princess Luna,” Twilight almost murmured, poking at her food. Luna blinked and shook her head to drive the sleep from her mind.

“Twilight Sparkle, does something trouble you?” She asked, the feeling of being watched she’d already come to associate with Vamprah’s presence creeping into the back of her mind. She glanced across the table and spotted him, curled up at Celestia’s side. She glanced up at Celestia with a grin, Celestia nodded back. Twilight jerked out of her thoughts and Luna returned her attention to her.

“Sorry, just wondering about the Makuta,” she said, her brow furrowed in concern, the gears behind her eyes practically turning for all to see.

“Aren’t we all?” Luna chuckled, gesturing to Celestia with a small patting motion. Celestia’s eyes darted to Vamprah for a moment before coming back to Luna, who nodded and awaited the result of her coaxing.

“Celestia was just telling me about what they’ve told you about their history.” Twilight paused and Luna gestured for her to go on. “This Mata-Nui, the way they talk about him makes him sound like he’s a machine, a god, and a world all rolled into one. Are they referring to different things by the same name, or is Mata-Nui just all of these things?”

“I would have expected you more concerned by the events they described, Twilight,” Luna said, her attention leaving Celestia to focus entirely on Twilight. “What stirs in your mind?”

“If Mata-Nui really is all three, and he created the Makuta,” her eyes flashed with intrigue, “then that might explain why the Makuta are so reluctant to let us help Krika or tell us anything about their abilities. I don’t think they’re just wearing armour, I think they might be machines. Letting us examine them might result in us learning how their bodies work, maybe even accidentally deactivating them.”

Luna heard a metallic clink and glanced over at Vamprah. His head had come up from under the table to listen more intently, resulting in Celestia’s hoof coming to rest on top of it. He didn’t react to it for a moment, evidently expecting Twilight to continue. When she didn’t he huffed silently and narrowed his eyes at Celestia, shaking her hoof off of his head and standing, stalking over to Luna’s side before setting himself back down.

Luna cleared her throat to catch his attention.

“Could you tell us if Twilight’s theory is correct?” He cocked his head before nodding. “Are you and your siblings machines?” He nodded again, “is there any risk of us deactivating you?” He shook his head, “and of us learning your workings?” He nodded again. “Thank you,” she said, unable to resist grinning impishly as she rested her own hoof on top of his head. He shot her a dirty look, baring his teeth for a moment before seeming to resign himself to his fate, tilting his head to the side slightly to coax her hoof further down to his shoulder, which she found surprisingly softer than his mask.

She blinked and tapped a bit further down his back, surprise filling her as she realized that despite the fact it didn’t appear so, his back was cushioned. She didn’t recognize the material, the texture was almost leathery, but it had considerably more give to it than even the softest of things that could be made with such a substance.

Twilight cleared her throat, drawing Luna out of her exploration. She realized that Vamprah had gone stock still, not even the slight preparatory movements he continually made still present, his eyes wide. She drew back her hoof, “ah, my apologies, noble Vamprah, I was caught unprepared.” He blinked slowly and shook his head before settling it back below the table, still unnervingly still.

“Well,” Celestia cleared her throat, “anything else you’ve noticed about the other Makuta between the three meetings we’ve had with them, Twilight?”

“Oh,” she shook her head slightly, “it doesn’t seem like they’ve ever been dealt with from a place of goodwill before, or at least it’s been a very long time. The two of you were on guard, trying to break through what they were saying to what they weren’t. They knew how to deal with that, but my primary goal and method was to try and make them comfortable, Antroz didn’t seem to have any idea how to deal with that.”

She hummed to herself, “it makes things difficult, but I think we should keep trying to do that. Once Antroz realizes we really don’t mean them any harm I think we’ll be able to work alongside them properly.”

Twilight and Celestia began to toss ideas for how to make the Makuta comfortable back and forth, but Luna found herself unable to properly concentrate on the conversation. She found her gaze returning to the shining black expanse of Vamprah's back. It didn’t seem proper for a being like him. Down on all fours his back was exposed, why wouldn’t he be armoured there?

She felt like she was spiralling around an answer, but it was just out of reach. He seemed to pride himself on his ability to silently stalk others, in the way that only an accomplished hunter would. Perhaps it was a show of honor, to turn his back to an enemy would be to expose his weakness. Yet, his methods were those of an ambush hunter, there was little honor in the sorts of assassinations that method suggested.

She blinked as another answer came to her, one that made her brow crease with concern. He hid it well, but there were slits in the expanses of his wings right along the edges of his torso, the perfect space for something to mount him.

“Vamprah,” she began, Celestia and Twilight went silent at the tone of her voice, Vamprah tilted his head to make sure she knew he was listening. “...Nevermind.” She shook her head, she’d leave it for another time. She had no real reason to pry at the moment, and if her suspicions proved correct it could be a delicate subject for him.

Celestia gave her a look that promised questions, Luna returned one that promised answers. “First order of business,” Luna decided to put the conversation back on track, “we must invite them to our hearth afore we can make them feel welcome. All in favour of granting their request?”

______

Something had Chirox ill at ease. He felt like he was forgetting something. He didn’t like feeling like that; his mind was supposed to be a steel trap, not a sieve like Mutran’s, or a single tracked mess like Gorast’s. He was collected, he had himself under control. He didn’t forget things.

Did it have something to do with Krika? He tapped at Krika’s mask with a claw, he’d been asleep for almost two entire days now. Chirox wondered what he would find if he tore that shell of a body open; would he have congealed inside? Some mutation brought on by the effort of using the Crast beyond its limit? His claws itched and he drew back. He needed something to do soon, or he might just test that hypothesis.

Back to what he was forgetting. It could have been something about the Matoran, they were far enough beneath his usual notice he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d forgotten some trivial thing about them that might have proved useful dealing with these organics. The thought rang hollow, it wasn’t about those insignificant cogs.

Mutran? He sneered, it might be, he tried his best to avoid thinking too hard about that mad fool. He didn’t think there was anything of value he’d discarded about Mutran. At least, nothing that would be valuable right now. He growled to himself as he remembered the last time his grudge against Mutran had made Chirox underestimate him.

He felt he was on the right track though, perhaps one of his other siblings. Couldn’t be Vamprah, he’d never known much of anything about him to begin with, no one did. Gorast wasn’t especially complicated, so she was out. Antroz? He was rather straightforward too, despite all his attempts to be otherwise.

Chirox found his mind drifting back to Mutran and he shook his head, if it had something to do with Mutran it couldn’t have been that important. Maybe he owed Chirox something recently and it had been so trivial he’d forgotten and now it was niggling at him because it was an empty spot in his head where there wasn’t supposed to be one. He’d fill it with something else later.

There was a knock at the door of their room and he twitched to attention as someone else opened it. For the hundredth time since they arrived he cursed his blindness. Mutran and Gorast had described the natives but he wanted to see it for himself, look close and study them. The fact he couldn’t made him want to grab one of these pitiful organics by the throat and rip, run his claws through every little piece of their workings to understand them.

He stilled his mind to calm himself, Antroz said play nice. Antroz had kept things from breaking down so far, so Chirox would play nice, no matter how it chafed to make pretty with these animals. He felt a grin tugging at his face as he ran a claw over the Tridax Pod in his chest, the very second Antroz slipped up though, the moment the opportunity arose, he would take it.

The organic said something to Antroz that Chirox didn’t bother enough about to pay attention to and he heard the door close.

“They want all of us this time,” Antroz said. His voice was calm, but Chirox had to fight down the moment of excitement that things had finally turned to a fight. “Gorast, to my right, Mutran, to my left, Chirox, you take up the back.” Chirox felt his hackles rise.

“And why do I have to trail behind like some hound?” He snipped, trying to come off far more sarcastic than he felt.

“Because you and I can’t navigate,” Antroz sighed. Chirox had to contain a sneer as he could practically hear him running his hands down his face. Like he was talking to some underling. “And I’m in charge, so they’ll expect me up front.” Chirox grunted, but decided against protesting further. It made sense, even if he didn’t like it. He wasn’t one to push ahead with his own plans if there was a perfectly serviceable explanation presented to him. He was patient, no matter how his claws itched for action, he would wait.

Letting himself be led primarily on autopilot he had time to stew in his irritation that it was necessary, but he knew if he thought on that for too long he would probably jump Mutran to take replacements for his eyes right out of his brother’s head. Instead he turned his mind back to what he might be forgetting. It felt important, and the feeling just kept growing. He trusted his instincts, this would be crucial to something they were trying to do. He didn’t know what yet, but he knew it would make him instrumental.

“Noble Makuta,” that was the Dark Princess’ voice. He felt something inside himself shift, his focus becoming more keen. He didn’t know how she did that, but at the moment it hardly mattered, it was useful.

He joined the others in bowing after a slight mental shove from Antroz. He almost sent one back, but knew Antroz was dependable enough to have done that before actually bowing, he wouldn't leave Chirox to stand like a fool. “After discussing the meetings you have had with the three of us, we have decided to grant your request for asylum.” Chirox had to fight to keep his disappointment off his face. Now it would be months at the least before he had the proper opportunity to really sink his claws into a live project.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you need, even once your brother recovers.” He didn’t recognize that voice, probably that Celestia Antroz had told him about, the Light wielder.

“And the offer to lend you any facilities we have to help with that stands.” That was Twilight Sparkle. As Antroz began speaking to them- some nonsense about taking them up on the offer, as if these creatures would have the kind of equipment needed to treat a Makuta- Chirox let his mind return to the true problem at hand and found his focus centering on Mutran again. He huffed to himself; fine, if it had something to do with him, he’d power through.

He pulled his internal folder on Mutran. It wouldn’t be anything supremely recent, nothing before the Karda Nui mission. He delved the corners of his thoughts, looking for any gap, anything he may have dismissed as trivial at the time. His investigation led him to the Shadow Leeches.

His brow furrowed; what about the Shadow Leeches? They didn’t have enough of them to be using them liberally as they had in Karda Nui, and the chances of the ponies having the kinds of environments needed to breed more were slim to none. They were a precious resource, sure, but what about them was he forgetting?

Their creation. There was something about their creation. Loathe as he was to do it he thought back on Mutran’s boasting about them. He’d claimed he’d had to do most of the work because Tridax had been working on some vapid side project. Something to do with- his mind came screeching to a halt and he internally cursed Mutran for making it so easy to disregard everything he said.

He felt around for Antroz’ mind, not caring that the organics might see his eyes blazing red.

He connected to an immediate feeling of disapproval from Antroz, but he pushed through it regardless to shout into Antroz’ head.

“Makuta Tridax! He has the third Olmak!” He felt Antroz’ mind freeze, too. “We just need to get a message out and he’ll be here to pick us up, he owes Mutran a favour.”

He felt Antroz’ mind start working towards that, but he’d said his piece, his presence was no longer required. A glow of pride filled his chest as he pulled his mind away; the solution to their problems had been ferried on his back, of course. About time he was back on track.

His claws stopped itching.

“Chirox and Mutran will take Krika to the University, they’ll have the easiest time learning to work with new equipment.” Antroz said, drawing Chirox out of his pleasant haze. He scowled, Antroz had no right to speak for him like that. What happened to Krika was of no concern to him, he’d already done his part. But it would be too late to reject it now, he wouldn’t be insubordinate like Mutran, so he gritted his teeth and bore his frustration. He almost groaned as he realized this was probably punishment for barging into Antroz’ mind.

A thumb started scratching at his knuckles.

______

The next morning, Twilight was practically buzzing with anticipation, they had been given almost an entire wing of the labs in Celestia’s Academy to work in. The sort of equipment they had access to was cutting edge, some of it was even still experimental!

She had to stop herself from bouncing on her hooves as she walked alongside Mutran and Chirox. They were carting Krika on a gurnie between them and Chirox for one was grim-faced. Mutran didn’t seem as concerned, looking around eagerly at everything they passed, occasionally asking questions when he couldn’t tell at a glance what a machine was for. It was odd to Twilight that he hadn’t asked about, or even given a second glance to, any of the sigils around the lab, but she figured she’d have plenty of time to ask what they knew of their magic later.

For now, though, their focus was the Internal Imaging Array. Mutran had practically cackled when she’d suggested it, but both of them had insisted she use that first.

The IIA was a large pair of metal rings that could be adjusted so that their target could sit between them no matter how large or small. The rings themselves were imprinted with nearly a dozen different glyphs. Mutran kept glancing at them as they positioned Krika between the rings but still didn't say anything about them.

Of the six Makuta, Twilight found Krika the most unsettling from a visual standpoint. He was stretched and elongated in ways that felt unnatural to her, like someone had taken a much smaller creature and only scaled up the portions it needed to become taller. His armour was a mixture of bone whites, dull blacks and bloody reds that only added to that impression.

His mask was easily the largest of the six Makuta’s. A small, white, bug like face trailed back into a mottled red-white skeletal arch that swooped along the hunch of his shoulders and down his back to end in a wicked white blade.

He had three forelimbs, two black, almost comically short front legs that ended in frighteningly enormous yet spindly bladed spires, each as long as his entire body, shaped like spinal columns and coloured in the same mottled blood and bone colours as his mask. The third arm seemed to erupt from the base of the back of his neck, ending in a three fingered claw.

His torso was gaunt and flat, armoured in white, seeming malnourished despite the fact that it was covered by armour, and his hind legs had similar black to bone colouration as the front, though the spines on his back legs were large enough to shake the skeletal look that permeated his mask and forelimbs.

She was very glad Mutran and Chirox had insisted on carrying him, just about every inch of his body was barbed or bladed, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to avoid being stabbed if she’d so much as brushed up against him.

Twilight sparked her horn against the side of one of the rings and they both sprung to life, humming with magic they lifted into the air, capturing Krika’s prone form in a tunnel of blue light. Mutran tensed and grinned, but after a couple seconds his expression fell.

“This, doesn’t work with magnetic imaging, does it?” He said, sounding rather disappointed.

“Strong magnetism doesn’t really agree with our magic, so no, why?” Twilight asked, though she had her suspicion.

“Should have figured,” Mutran huffed, “I was looking forwards to him slamming face first against the top of it or something.” Twilight threw him an incredulous look. “He would have been fine,” he assured her, holding up his hands in surrender, “it just would have been funny.” Twilight rolled her eyes, she figured that was it. She glanced over at Chirox to see if he’d been in on that, but he was still stonefaced, almost bored.

“We’re going to have a few minutes while this machine runs. We could get to know each other a bit?” Twilight said hopefully, her ears perking up. Chirox made a dismissive sort of noise. “To kill some time?” Mutran looked her up and down a couple times, one of his hands hovering around his mask for a moment before he shrugged.

“We’re already entrusting you with everything we’re going to get out of Krika, no reason not to.” She got the distinct feeling he was being sardonic.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” she offered.

“Good,” Chirox grunted, but Mutran waved a hand.

“I’m just having some fun, ask away,” he said, leaning back against another machine. Twilight hummed to herself as she considered what to say. She didn’t feel like asking the usual ‘what’s your favourite food’ sorts of questions would be useful. She was unlikely to have any context for what their responses meant. She would start with what little context she had.

“Was Teridax’ plan tough to go through with?” She asked, turning her head towards Krika, but watching Mutran out of the corner of her eye to see his reaction.

It wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting. He crooked an eyebrow and glanced at Chirox, holding up his hands like he wasn’t sure what to make of what she’d asked, but there was no stress, no indication that it had even been a question to him.

“It was as difficult as instigating any sort of change,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It needed doing, so we did it."

“But Mata Nui was your father,” Twilight felt her brow furrow as she turned back to him, “didn’t that change anything?”

“What nonsense are you blathering about?” Chirox huffed, “he hadn’t been our Father for nearing ninety thousand years.”

“Ninety thousand…” Twilight couldn’t help but let the weight of that amount of time sink in for a moment. That was further back than she knew any beings in Equestria even had stories. She was sitting next to a pair of unbelievably ancient beings. She shook her head to try and return to the subject at hand, “what do you mean? Being a dad doesn’t just stop.” Chirox scowled, but didn’t say anything more.

“Would you say Celestia is still your Mother?” Mutran asked- to Twilight’s sputtering disbelief- like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. Her brain short circuited for a second, her mouth drifting open and shut a couple times as she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

“What?!” She cried considerably louder than she meant to. “Celestia,” she cleared her throat and brought down her volume, “isn’t my mother, where did you get that idea?”

“She said you were her ex-student,” Mutran shrugged, “was it a more casual apprenticeship than that?”

“Wait,” Twilight blinked, “I think we’re using the same word to mean different things. When I say father or mother, I mean the people who are…” she swallowed. She was sitting next to two inconceivably ancient beings, and she might just be about to give them The Talk. “Responsible, for you existing.”

“You mean in a procreative manner?” Mutran asked, cocking his head and drawing perhaps the deepest sigh of relief Twilight had ever experienced from her core as she nodded. “We refer to the participants in that process as donors.” Chirox sneered hard enough that Twilight heard his fangs click. Twilight elected to ignore that, this situation was already weird enough.

“That seems… reductionist,” she murmured. “What do you mean when you say mother or father?”

“Mothers and Fathers are teachers,” Mutran explained, “masters of a craft who have taken Sons or Daughters, apprentices.” Twilight hummed in understanding, her eyes shifting between them for a moment before the next question came to her.

“If you don’t assign those terms based on genetic or adopted family, why do you call each other siblings?” Mutran’s eyes flicked to Chirox again.

“Siblings, or Siblings?” Mutran asked, the emphasis was different on the second, favouring the first three letters over the last three. Twilight blinked, apparently the difference here was sensitive in their culture as well.

“Which do you call each other?”

“We are siblings,” Chirox said, running the claws of one hand along each other, “not Siblings.” Mutran’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“What he means is that we are the same species so we are siblings.” Mutran paused for a moment, his brow furrowed as he searched for the words. “Meaning literally, ‘you who are like me.’”

“And Sibling means?” Twilight asked, testing the different pronunciation on her tongue.

“In that sense, Brother or Sister would mean,” his eyes twitched towards Chirox again, “you who I am devoted to.”

“So it’s a context sensitive term?” Twilight got the distinct feeling these two had fallen out of that kind of relationship rather badly.

“Yes,” Mutran nodded. “Then siblings are people who came from the same donors here?”

“Uh, sort of?” Twilight hummed to herself, “the distinction does get a bit hazy here, too. Really it comes down to the people you grew up in the same house with, but aren’t part of the generation before you. And then there’s in-laws.”

“That seems arbitrary,” Mutran said, bringing one of his claws up to his mask and biting at it. Twilight didn’t really have a counterpoint for that, so she just hummed to herself and turned to watch Krika again.

“How come you expected the IIA to work on electromagnetism?” She asked after a couple more minutes, Mutran chuckled.

“Our first attempts at similar devices worked using electromagnetic fields, not enough to seriously harm the subject, but enough that it was incredibly uncomfortable and if they weren’t strapped down they’d go flying into the machine.” He clapped his hands together firmly as if to demonstrate. “We assumed that since your kind aren’t made of metals the electromagnetic imaging would be serviceable enough and you’d have no reason to push through to other means.”

“We actually,” Twilight coughed nervously, “never considered electromagnetism for this sort of thing. Magic was already versatile enough that by the time we had machines that could harness magnetism, it had sort of filled all the niches.” Mutran clicked his teeth in consideration.

The machine began to dim, the rings drifting back down to lock into their bases. “There we go,” Twilight walked up to the machine and lit her horn, gathering the paper being printed out by the base. “This should give us a good look at what’s going on inside him.” She turned back to the Makuta as she looked it over, “I set it to emboss them Chirox, so you can help me understand what your internal structure is supposed-” Twilight blinked, unsure what she was looking at.

Her first thought was that something had gone wrong, or there was some internal shielding that the IIA couldn’t reach through. Krika was hollow, not that she would have expected a machine of this level of complexity to have every nook and cranny filled in, but his insides were cavernous, like the machine was just a shell for something, but there didn’t appear to be anything inside.

She glanced up at Mutran, who was doing a very bad job of not being noticed giggling to himself. “What am I looking at?” She asked a little numbly. Mutran walked over to look through the papers, “did all of him make it here?” Mutran’s grin stayed firmly in place as he grabbed the printout from her magical grip and looked it over.

“Yes, this is all of him,” he said, bringing them over to Chirox and letting him run his claws along the scans. “What you see before you is just a shell, Princess.” He chuckled, “we are what lives inside and powers it.”

“But there’s nothing in there,” Twilight protested, drawing another cackle from Mutran, Chirox remained engrossed in studying the printouts with his claws.

“We are this,” Mutran held out his hand and a sound like whispering filled the air. From between the plates of his armour a black-green haze began to leak out, gathering around his hand. “Not flesh or metal, like you or the Toa, we are Antidermis.” He waved his hand, the mist swirling around his fingers and gathering back together across his palm. “Insubstantial, but it contains everything we are.” Twilight stepped forwards to get a closer look at their gaseous true form.

“Enough with your lessens in the obvious,” Chirox growled. “Mutran, the internal components of his body are fused shut.”

“Fused shut?” Twilight asked, looking back to Krika.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, he can just mold it open again.” Mutran began chewing on one of his claws again.

Chirox shot something at Mutran in their native tongue. Mutran’s brow furrowed and he glanced back at Krika, murmuring something in the same language.

“Excuse me,” Twilight spoke up again, drawing Mutran out of whatever thought had him flexing his claws at his side. “What do you mean by fused shut?”

“It means he physically cannot move, and can’t slip out of his body to find a new one. All of his joints and plates have melted on the inside, but he could rebuild it rather easily, and he should still have access to all of his abilities.” Mutran walked over to Krika, “there must be something wrong with his Antidermis.” He pressed the side of his head to Krika’s chest. “He sounds fine.”

“There are other kinds of tests we could run,” Twilight offered, “though we’ll probably need a control for the others. So I know what’s normal as far as energy flow and magical fluxuations.”

Mutran chuckled nervously, drawing his head away from Krika’s chest.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to convince Chirox to stand in for that, I’m not exactly a typical specimen.”

Chirox threw a dirty look in his general direction and held out the data. He shook the papers a couple times before Twilight understood he wanted her to take them, which she did with a murmured apology.

“Let’s get this over with,” he growled. “If you let him start using me as a test subject I swear this will get ugly.”

It took a few moments for Twilight to remember where the machine she needed was, and a few more to transfer Krika over to it, but soon enough they had Chirox and Krika fitted out with half a dozen monitoring patches and a rather large helmet each.

“This shouldn’t feel like anything, so let me know if it does,” Twilight said, to an unimpressed grunt from Chirox. She started the machine on Chirox’ side, it hummed to life and began spitting out readings from across Chirox’ body.

Twilight studied the readouts carefully. There wasn’t much she could really make heads or tails of, but every few seconds she would find the beginnings of something that read similarly to the construction of Shadow Magics, but it was either interrupted or sandwiched between other things she didn’t recognize.

After a couple minutes she adjusted the parameters of the machine, whatever this was it was obviously a hodgepodge of several different things, she needed to separate it out if she was going to read it. The readouts only got even more unparseable. She blinked, then promptly put her hoof to her forehead.

She coughed to catch Chirox’ attention, “Chirox, would you mind removing your mask?” He began to rise and she scrambled to salvage the situation, “I’m sorry, it has a different energy signature than yours. The machine is having trouble parsing the two out.” He growled and seemed to puff up a little.

“Fine,” he spat, closing his eyes and clenching his fists to force himself calm before he reached up and removed his mask, carefully putting it on the table beside himself.

Twilight wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to see underneath, but the face looking back at her still sent a chill down her spine. It was the barest of essentials, evidently the mask was never supposed to come off. His eyes blazed out of sunken, rigid sockets in an otherwise minimal, angular structure, it was so bare she didn’t feel she could even call it a skull. If she squinted she could maybe make out a nose above the dully blinking series of diodes where the mouth on his mask had been, but that seemed more likely to be a weight support for the mask itself than anything properly functional.

“Alright,” Twilight said shakily, starting the machine back up. The data coming out was more coherent now, the differences between the Makuta’s energies and Equestrian magic became clearer.

She could still see the traces of Shadow Magic, but that was buried beneath several different things that were similar in structure to other spells, but still different enough that she could only say what family to put them in. Some form of remote observation, the strength of which, encompassed senses, and extent of manifestation were beyond her tell just looking at it, alongside something that almost looked like it was designed to dampen kinetic energy.

She shook her head, she’d have time to analyze what she was getting in depth later, for now she just had to get a full scan.

It ended up taking considerably longer than she thought it would, there was more going on with the Makuta’s interactions with their internal energies than she would have ever dreamed and by the end of it the pile of readouts was almost as tall as she was, but eventually she had something complete enough that she could get a full mathematical view of Chirox as an entity.

“Can I put my mask back on?” Chirox asked, tapping his claws against the side of the table.

“Oh, yes,” Twilight looked up from the readings. “Please,” she added under her breath, his face really was very unnerving.

Chirox put his mask back on and pulled all the patches off of his body. It took him a couple more seconds to reorient himself, and while Twilight got the very real idea that if she drew attention to it he would be angry, she helped him position himself in the room by tapping her hoof rather loudly a couple times so he could remember where he was in relation to her as he made his way back over to stand by them.

Twilight switched the input on the machine, “Mutran, would you mind removing Krika’s mask?” She asked. Mutran nodded and grabbed a hold of Krika’s head. He tugged once, the mask didn’t come off.

“Wow, even fused your mask on, huh?” He murmured, putting a hand on Krika’s neck, Twilight moved to say something but before she could he yanked hard. Krika’s mask came off with a loud shriek of tearing metal. Twilight gasped and moved to dash over, but Mutran held up a hand, “he’s fine, look.”

Twilight looked down at Krika’s head. His eyes were dark, bulbous protrusions on either side of his head, the interface diodes for his mask along the top of the odd, angular shape of it, but beyond that it was featureless. Unlike Chirox’ there was no activity from any of the electronic looking parts of him. Twilight hummed to herself in consideration as Mutran continued. “If I’d done something wrong he’d be leaking.”

“Okay,” Twilight said cautiously. “If you’re sure.” She started running the machine again. Twilight started comparing the two printouts almost as soon as it started printing the second out, but differences were negligible, hardly a single point out of place. She sighed and sat down next to the machine, she would probably have to wait until the entire process was done before she could really compare them.

After a few minutes longer she glanced over at Mutran. He was looking over the inside of the mask, poking at what appeared to be exposed circuitry.

She moved over to him, “something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” he murmured in reply, “I’ve never seen this kind of deterioration on a Kanohi before, usually they shatter before their innards are exposed.” He hummed and gently slid his claw along a channel in it, “then again, I’m not a maskmaker, this might be normal for a mask that’s been used as continually as this one has.”

He put it up to his face, Twilight was about to say something when his head warped, creaking as he forced it into the mask. Twilight winced. The mask sputtered and Mutran removed it, his head returning to its previous shape. “That’s interesting.”

“What?” Chirox asked, sounding genuinely interested for the first time since he’d entered the room.

“The Crast isn’t working at all, the interface is fried,” Mutran responded. Twilight cocked her head as an idea began to take shape.

“The Kanohi have a direct interface jack, right?” Chirox and Mutran turned to her, “when Chirox took off his mask I noticed what I think are receptors in your faceplate, am I correct?”

“Yes,” Chirox said, “what of it?” His voice wavered a little, like he was trying to continue to disregard her, but was too focused on her train of thought to keep up the act well.

“If the Kanohi’s interface jack is destroyed, is it possible that similar interface mechanics in Krika’s armour were also blown?”

Mutran and Chirox both blinked.

“In order for something like that to happen, every single piece of circuitry in his body would have had to have overheated all at once.” Chirox scoffed, though his brow was furrowed, he was still thinking on it.

“The heat wave when we broke through!” Mutran shouted, wringing his hands with a grin. “That must have been his body giving out. If it’s all fried he doesn’t have access to any of his powers, he can’t even feed.” There was a beat where Chirox scowled hard, but he couldn’t help his expression lifting.

“And if his body’s melted itself shut, he wouldn’t be able to escape to a new one.”

Mutran rounded on Twilight, his grin almost manic, a second row of fangs showing behind the four in the front. Strange, his mouth looked so much deeper than what the mask should have allowed right against that blank skull.

“We need to get to the roof.”

______

Krika was worried. He could feel his energy reserves dwindling dangerously low, but that was all he could feel.

He wondered if he was about to die.

His body had gone numb when he broke through, but he remembered stars, the pale of an impending sunrise before all had become darkness. He had succeeded. He felt a chill in his soul. If he had brought the others through, and they were now loose in a new world, without him to try and hold them back from wreaking havoc-

Maybe he should die, so he would never have to see the devastation he had unleashed. It would be easy, just let himself starve, not that he had any say in the matter, anyways.

If he could he would have chuckled, at least his final act had been the sort he’d always wanted it to be. Sacrificing himself for the sake of others. When he thought of it like that, he could almost ignore the cruelty he’d no doubt forced upon another world. Maybe it wasn’t so bad of a way to die, after all.

Just as he settled in, something changed, he felt air move over his being. Startled, he made no move to escape through the opening in his armour before it was forcibly wrenched shut. He waited a moment longer, confused. Had his siblings discovered what had happened to him and come back to taunt him with it?

He pressed his being against the spot that had been torn open and suddenly, pain.

If he’d still had access to his throat he would have screamed, he felt his Antidermis connect to a piece of the body again, it wasn’t much, but it was enough, enough that he could reach out ever so slightly.

He felt sunlight, rich and powerful in a way that no light had ever felt on him before, yet still gentle enough that it didn’t cause him pain. He devoured it, feeling his strength begin to return.

He reached out from the new channel for his being into the rest of his shattered form, channeling that energy into reconfiguring it. All the components were still there, he just needed to put them back in the correct order, shapeshifting, as opposed to healing. It wouldn’t be pretty, and he would be unsteady until he properly replaced the parts or healed himself, but it would be enough to grant him access to his body again.

The world opened itself up to him again; first was touch, he was resting on something soft, the air moved over his form gently, and that almost decadent sunlight was warming his armour.

Next came hearing, he heard his brother’s voice, Mutran.

“It’s working, he’s putting himself back together!”

He could feel the air around him grow colder, he was pulling in more light than was coming, a shadow spreading out from him.

Finally, his sight returned. At first he could hardly see anything, silhouettes in the wailing storm of darkness surrounding him. Someone, a feminine voice he didn’t recognize, gasped in what sounded like awe. He began to stand, stepping off the cushioned platform he found himself on, and grasped at the storm of shadows surrounding them. He forced his mouth into a shape that would allow him to open it and took in a deep breath, swallowing the dark energy he had martialed.

He looked around. He was on the top of a building, looking out from the side of a mountain over a small city with colourful tiled roofs, a single sun was high above and the sky was a deep, perfect blue. All around below the land seemed to stretch on forever, green and alive. It drew his breath away, but his attention was brought back by the sound of an exuberant yet harsh laugh from Mutran. “It worked!”

“About time,” Chirox huffed.

Krika turned back around, having to fight down a scowl as he faced his accursed siblings, they had just saved his life, after all. They looked impossibly self-satisfied and he decided they were already getting enough congratulations from themselves, he didn't need to inflate their egos further by thanking them. He glanced down between them and saw the source of the unfamiliar voice. She was so much smaller than the Makuta. Hardly as tall as a Matoran. Yet her violet eyes were filled with wonder as she looked at him, there was no fear of the two monsters at her sides or the one before her. He blinked, and after a couple false starts forced some words out of his half reconstructed throat.

“Hello, little one.”

Author's Note

This chapter ended up both shorter and longer than I wanted it to. I had wanted them being accepted as asylum seekers to be its own chapter, but I didn't have enough material to break 2000 words with that, and that would have been a significant downgrade in size from what I've been putting out. I also wanted to introduce the concept of familial titles having a different meaning to them than to us, but didn't really have a way to do it that wasn't wrapped up in trying to wake Krika, so this one ended up breaching almost 7000 words.

I'm not happy with how this one came out, exactly, but it's serviceable, introduces a concept that's going to be incredibly important later on, and opens the way for the next part of this act. Letting Krika settle in, and discovery.

Act I: Hunger: Peace

Krika’s body lurched slightly, like something had pushed at it from inside and then retreated. Twilight blinked, a grin stretching across her face, it might actually work.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Mutran’s eyes flash blue and yellow, the small strip of metal he pulled from his arm healing over in the space of a blink. She made a mental note to ask him about that later. For now, she had a possible rebirth to witness.

The air shifted, the shadow cast across the roof by Krika deepening until not even a trace of the texture beneath it could be seen, like someone had simply erased a part of the floor from the universe. Twilight took a deep breath and opened herself to what was happening, trying to get a feeling for it. The feeling came easily, Shadow Magics swirled through the air more thickly than she’d ever seen before.

Faster and faster the energy swirled, it occurred to her that she’d never asked what exactly Chirox had meant by “feed.” What was he feeding on? What was powering this? Her horn lit as she cast a gentle spell, just to let her see the flow of energy around her. Her eyes widened, the sunlight, it was fueled by the sunlight.

A sound started, low and dull, it sounded almost like moaning.

“It’s working!” Mutran clapped his hands together, “he’s putting himself back together!”

The sound grew louder, his shadow on the ground spreading out and beginning to peel up off the ground, following the swirling energy like tongues of flame. The Darkness began to spread faster than the sunlight could come in, not blocking the light, but absorbing it, converting the light into more shadows.

The darkness let out what almost sounded like a pained wail and arched up to surround Krika completely in a pillar of blackness, swirling like a stormcloud around him. She could just barely see him begin to rise from his place in the center of them, an even darker outline against the roiling black.

The darkness stopped for a moment before beginning to rush inward, like fountains running in reverse it leaped for Krika’s shrouded form in ribbons and flows, swirling in a nexus around him as he was finally revealed, standing tall, the last of the dark sliding into his mouth. “It worked!” Mutran cheered, throwing his hands up into the air.

“About time,” Chirox sneered, a self satisfied edge in his voice.

Krika turned around, looking over his brothers first before his gaze landed on her.

Twilight was at a loss for words, the casual command with which Krika handled the shadows he conjured had been impressive enough, but what he’d done before that was in another world entirely.

To twist light on its head like that, converting it to Dark Energy with hardly any loss and not a trace of Black Magic, faster than it could come, no less. That was beyond impressive, it was unheard of, almost a mathematic impossibility. Could all of the Makuta do that?

He was staring at her, and she supposed his almost featureless face should have been making that uncomfortable, but all she could think about was that if all of them could do something like that then they were masters of Shadow Magic on a level that only Luna could really hope to compete with.

He said something in the Makuta’s tongue and she shook herself out of her reverie.

“Oh, sorry, where are my manners?” She babbled, “I memorized a translation spell in case this happened, give me a minute.” Her horn began to glow and she tried to remember the proper execution for the spell. Before she could fire it off Chirox huffed and his eyes glowed brighter, Krika’s glowing in turn.

“Stop wasting your energy, he knows now.” Twilight grinned sheepishly.

“Hello there,” Krika said, his blank faceplate presenting a rather harsh disconnect between it and the soft, almost whispering tone of his voice.

“Hello,” Twilight smiled nonetheless, bowing slightly, “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle. I would like to officially welcome you to Equestria.”

“I am Krika,” he bowed in return, his bulbous eyes flicking to Chirox and Mutran in turn before going back to her. “How long was I trapped?” She may not have been able to study much of an expression, but something had him worried, he was on guard, more so than any of the other Makuta she’d met so far.

“Three days,” Mutran said, Chirox having apparently decided his claws needed more attention than Krika. “Though if it wasn’t for Twilight it would have been much longer.”

“Princess,” Krika said before anyone else could say anything. “She’s royalty, Mutran, show some respect.” Mutran narrowed his eyes at Krika and Twilight cleared her throat.

“Just Twilight is fine,” she said, her smile a little bit strained now. “The title is just for business.” She turned to Mutran, “also you’re being too kind, you know how your bodies work better than I do, you would have figured it out soon enough.” She heard Krika snort and got the distinct feeling they hadn’t been looking to help Krika because he was one of them. Mutran looked down at her and seemed to puff up a little at her praise, his wings fluttering slightly.

“Debatable,” he said, with no small degree of false modesty, “if Chirox or I thought of something as mundane as bad circuitry it would have been out of frustration that nothing else was working. We are Makuta, after all, mundane physicalities are beneath our concern most of the time.” He let his armour puff out, the green mist of his Antidermis floating out into the air for a moment before he pulled it back.

One of Krika’s bladed legs came down next to her and Twilight jumped a bit, looking up to find Krika staring at Mutran now. Twilight was starting to get the feeling that a lot of her interactions with the Makuta were going to be her playing referee to keep them from getting into conflicts amongst themselves.

She glanced up at Krika, if she had to guess by the way he was holding himself, he was trying to steadily put himself between her and the other Makuta. That didn’t bode well at all. She cleared her throat to get his attention back.

“I know his Kanohi is broken, but is there any chance we could get it back to him?” Krika jolted, his third arm coming around to feel over his face. Twilight didn’t want to say his blank skullplate was beginning to unnerve her now that the rush of seeing him awaken was leaving her, but it was true.

“Ah, right,” Mutran took the enormous mask off the ground where he’d tossed it when he’d gotten sick of carrying both Krika and the mask and handed it over to Krika. Krika took it with his third arm and slid it back over his faceplate. The mask sputtered, its features seeming to slide like disjointed components for a moment before his eyes dimmed to grey, bolts of yellow flicking through them. The mask’s pieces snapped back into place, letting him emote properly.

Mutran grinned a bit impishly, “I’m no maskmaker, but I’m pretty sure that won’t make using it properly any more viable, just so you know.” Krika’s mask shifted into a distinctly unimpressed grimace.

“What’s happened since we got here?” He asked, “what have you done?” Chirox stepped forwards, unfurling one of his wings to drape it around Krika’s shoulders in an entirely too friendly gesture if the narrowing of Krika’s eyes was anything to go by.

“We’ll get you filled in when we meet back up with the others.” His grip tightened, “we’ve all just been so worried about you, brother.”

Krika glanced down to Twilight, his expression making it much easier to tell now just how much he was studying her, it twisted to worry as he looked back at Mutran.

“Promise me no harm will come to the Princess.” Twilight blinked at that, Mutran’s wings flapped open, his shoulders coming up and his mask beginning to glow around the edges. Krika opened his mouth again but no sound came out.

“I apologize, Twilight, for my brother’s insinuations.” Mutran chuckled, making some gesture Twilight didn’t recognize at Krika, then offered his other hand to Twilight, “I hope we can work together again soon, this was a pleasure.” Twilight offered her hoof and he shook it cordially before turning back to Krika, a growl slipped into his voice, “but we must be off, got to let our siblings know the good news.” He gestured for Krika and Chirox to follow him, his eyes flashing brighter red. Chirox began following first, pulling Krika along with him and leaving Twilight to wonder just what that was about.

______

Mutran and Chirox stormed into the room, Krika in tow, and Gorast couldn’t help the savage snarl that worked its way out of her throat.

“Feel like explaining to Antroz the little stunt you just pulled?” Mutran snapped, lightly smacking him upside the mask. “We wake you up and the first thing you do is try and undermine what we’re doing here?”

Gorast rolled her eyes as Antroz approached, what had they been expecting the simpering fool to do? Thank them? Like Krika would ever show another Makuta any form of decency.

Krika’s mask sputtered as Antroz came to stand in front of him.

“What, happened?” He asked low, dangerously. Gorast rose to stand at Antroz’ side, fighting down a grin as Krika’s eyes flashed with panic as he glanced at her. He would do well to be afraid of her, his mask might be broken, but hers was perfectly fine. “Well?”

“Mutran and Chirox had someone with them, a Princess, I was concerned.” Krika answered quickly, trying to take a step back but being blocked by Chirox.

“He made it sound like we were going to dispose of her as soon as we were done,” Chirox said, rubbing his claws together on the hand not holding Krika forwards. “Which might actually be prudent,” Antroz’ brow went up.

“I don’t think I actually want to know why you’d suggest sabotaging my work right now, but go on.” Antroz shoved Krika aside. Krika deflated a bit in relief, but Gorast shot him a glare to let him know he wasn’t off the hook yet.

“We had to let Twilight take full readings of both Chirox and Krika,” Mutran said, cutting off whatever irritating thing Chirox would likely have said. “She could learn some... inconvenient things from those.” Antroz sighed and rubbed at the bridge between his eyes.

“That was the deal, remember?” He snapped, “don’t get cold feet now.” He turned back to where he’d pushed Krika, “and you, I know you don’t like us, but I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Krika spat, drawing himself up slightly. Gorast growled and he stood down a little, she didn’t hide the smile this time. It didn’t stop him from continuing, however, “I know you, I know all of us, trust is the last thing I could have for you. What are you planning?”

By the Great Beings, Gorast hated him. She felt something spark in her and Krika took a step back. She went to take a step forwards but Antroz put a hand on her shoulder. The spark flickered and died as she looked up at him. Antroz’ face was set and grim, but there was a control to his bearing, he was thinking.

“I intend to get us home, if we have these people’s trust then if Teridax has won, we will be heralded as heroes twofold, first for our service in Karda Nui, then for returning with new allies. If he’s lost, we will have somewhere to hide and gather our strength until we can avenge him.” He knocked on his mask, “think, Krika, what do we have to gain from turning this place on us? Having two worlds set against us would be nothing but a nuisance.”

“So you do intend to use them,” Krika sneered back, “do they even know who they are sheltering?”

“To a degree, and it will stay that way,” Antroz released Gorast’s shoulder. “There will be no infighting, understand?” Gorast almost gaped at him, here was Krika jeopardizing their mission, but that was definitely meant for her. “Argue, bicker if you want, but if you so much as kick each other in the shins there will be consequences. We need to stay on Celestia’s good side.”

“Why?” Krika cocked his head.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gorast shot back, he scrambled away from her a little and she let out a mirthless chuckle. He was such a coward without his mask to offer him a safety net.

“Because she’s one of the people in charge,” Antroz snapped, his eyes narrowing. “No harm will come to these people unless someone,” he stepped towards Krika, “does something foolish. Like what you tried to do with that Ga-Toa.” Krika shrunk in on himself a little. “So you will keep your mouth shut, understood?” Krika hesitated for a long moment.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Good, now I have to run damage control,” Antroz snipped, turning and pulling slightly on Gorast’s shoulder. Gorast felt a flash of irritation that she had to be his escort when Krika needed looking after, but Antroz had his shoulders set, he meant business right now. “Chirox, Mutran, how much help was Sparkle? I need some kind of good news.”

“Invaluable,” Mutran said quickly.

“...She’s the one who cracked it,” Chirox admitted reluctantly. Antroz nodded before gesturing back to Krika.

“He talks to no one without one of us there, understood?”

“Aye,” The other three replied, not wanting to break his stride, that was a good way to get a blade in the throat.

“We took a big risk to save you, Krika. We might have been in your debt, but letting you die would have been an easier way to clear it.” Antroz said as he pulled open the door, “remember that, and have some gratitude.” Gorast and he stepped through the door, slamming it before Krika could get off a reply. Gorast felt a warmth in her chest, glad to see Krika put in his place.

“First stop?” She asked, pulling ahead to guide Antroz.

“Celestia, she should hear the news, and going to Twilight first would only rouse further suspicion.” He growled beneath his breath, “I swear, if he ruins this for us, I’m reinstating your secondary objective.”

Gorast licked her fangs, letting the quiet hope that Krika already had nestle into her being.

______

Celestia had cancelled her daily court for the last few days, as she’d been spending much of her time considering how best to introduce the Makuta to the rest of Equestrian society. Aliens were one thing, interdimensional aliens who razed a city block to the ground on their entrance were another, and possibly interdimensional criminal aliens who were expecting a fight at all times and entered that way were yet another. Managing the response would be a matter of utmost delicacy.

She needed the announcement to make it clear the Makuta were welcome and not to be feared, but still recognize the danger that could be caused should they be pursued while downplaying it enough that she wasn’t bombarded with questions about why they’d agreed to shelter them in the first place. It was all quite tedious, so she welcomed the distraction when she heard metallic fingers rapping on her study’s door.

“Come in,” she looked up to see the door open, admitting Antroz and Gorast. The latter of which still seemed quite nervous around her. Gorast left the door open, Celestia recognized the self assuring gesture and chose not to comment. “Antroz, Gorast of the North,” she nodded to the two of them, using one of Gorast’s titles to try and set her at ease with overt respect. “What can I do for you?”

“You’ve done more than we could ask for already,” Antroz said pleasantly, bowing at the waist. “Thanks to your generosity and Princess Sparkle’s efforts our brother Krika has been revived, something we are most grateful for.” Gorast made a face like she’d tasted something sour, evidently this was not the boon she would have expected it to be.

He stood back to his full height, and here it came, “however, he was disoriented when he awoke. He may have said something with misleading implications, and Chirox and Mutran aren’t known for their delicate handling of such situations, which might have exacerbated things. I would like to apologize for that, but given what was said I’m afraid that Princess Sparkle will be in no mood to see me or my siblings at the moment.” Celestia calmed her movements, she did not let her concern show, instead, she kept it to a placid curiosity.

“Oh dear, what did he say?”

“I don’t have all the details,” he said, pausing to adjust his mask slightly. She could see the question warring behind his eyes, whether to lie or not, “but apparently something to the effect of not wanting her ‘disposed of’ after he woke.” Celestia couldn’t help an eyebrow going up, Gorast elbowed him and he put up his hands in a placating motion. “Not that it was ever part of the plan for her to be. Chirox and Mutran may not be paragons of scientific ethics, but they can recognize how foolish it would be to do something so needless. Especially with how bright your ex student proved to be.”

His claws brushed over the back of the chair in front of her desk and he set himself down on it casually, evidently trying to keep the mood light, “in fact, my brothers made specific point to mention she’s the one who figured out what was wrong with Krika. They were quite impressed.”

Celestia’s thoughts softened. This didn’t change much, she had already been planning to keep close watch of them, and it was entirely possible he was primarily worried that Krika had insulted Twilight so he was hoping to ensure they’d still be able to work together.

“I’m flattered. Is Krika recovering his faculties well?” Celestia pressed, Gorast’s eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps it had been more than disorientation.

“I’m sure he will in time, but for the foreseeable future he will need an escort while he recovers from a case of severe malnutrition.” Antroz waved a hand casually, but Gorast blinked, her eyes flicking to him. So malnutrition was a lie, but he would be escorted. Probably to prevent him from saying more things like what he said to Twilight.

“Antroz,” she said carefully, letting a bit of a sigh slip into her voice. She needed him to understand his situation, and hers. “We want to make you feel welcome while you are here,” her gaze must have hardened slightly, Gorast’s posture changed, one of her claws beginning to hover around Antroz’ back, ready to snatch him up and bolt. “But you need to understand, we are taking a considerable gamble on you. So know I mean no insult when I ask this.”

She watched him closely, his mask had slipped into the easy grin he seemed to wear whenever he wanted to be charming, but she could tell he had his attention, the mere fact Gorast could grind her teeth the way she was without drawing his attention was proof of that. “Why would Krika, even disoriented, assume that?”

Antroz’ grin didn’t slip, but his claws began to trace along one another.

“You have led this place for a long time,” he said, “no one has told me this, I can tell by the way you speak, the way Gorast and Mutran have described you holding yourself. So you know what I am about to say is true better than most.” The smile slipped away and he leaned forwards slightly. For the space of a blink he looked tired, the kind of tired she felt down in her bones some days, but he consolidated the expression into a grim one quickly. “No war goes by without someone being used and then thrown away when it’s over.”

Celestia’s mind flashed to Sunset Shimmer, who she had pushed to power and ultimately ruin in an attempt to do just that.

“And you just emerged from a rather prolonged one.” She nodded thoughtfully, “no doubt he thought himself still entangled in it, and Twilight another pawn.” Antroz nodded.

“I apologize for the interruption, Princess,” he stood, Gorast relaxed slightly, evidently happy to be leaving her presence soon. “But it is as important to us as it is to you that both sides feel comfortable around one another, so I decided it would be best to keep you abreast of the situation.” Celestia kept her eyes from narrowing, she didn’t feel like Antroz had lied, but with that she understood his primary concern with this meeting was to ensure he controlled the narrative.

“Perfectly understandable, Antroz,” she said pleasantly. She would have to ask Twilight about this soon. “And it’s no trouble, papers can wait a few moments. Though I do wish you had come under less formal circumstances.” She allowed herself a slightly sharp grin, “I’m sure you would make quite the opponent in a game of checkers.”

“Another time,” he chuckled, turning to take his leave. “Until then, I hope things go smoothly.” Celestia dearly hoped so as well.

A few hours and some miscellaneous paperwork later, Twilight still hadn’t come to discuss what had happened with the Makuta. There was a slight flash of worry. Had she misinterpreted what Antroz had meant? Had they made a move against her? She shook her head and squashed the thought. Antroz would be too smart to lie directly to her face about something she could check up on so easily.

Still, she decided to take a break and head over to the lab, just to make sure. If anything could delay Twilight, it would be research. On the way there, she ran into Spike, his arms full of an almost towering assortment of books.

“Careful there,” she chuckled, her horn glowing to take a few of them off of his claws so he was more stable.

“Princess!” He jumped slightly, she was sure he would have just dropped some of the books if she hadn’t taken a few. “Is something wrong?” Celestia smoothed her expression, Spike had spent more time around her than most, she sometimes forgot that.

“No, I simply wished to check in on Twilight.” She said, looking over the titles of the books she’d picked up, reference materials for alternate spell construction. She blinked, “I heard she helped to wake Krika, is there something she’s still working on?”

“She’s always working on something,” Spike shrugged, beginning to walk towards the lab again. “I haven’t been able to make heads or tails of what she’s talking about, but she’s really excited about this.” Celestia let her ears go up with her interest, whenever a project dug its way into Twilight’s head it was always worth paying attention to.

Opening the door to the lab Celestia was greeting with a rather familiar sight, Twilight sitting in the middle of a large circle of books, her horn glowing as pieces of paper swirled about her, each coming close and moving back as she needed them, her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed in her focus, a quill darting out every now and again to jot down a note or adjust an equation. It brought a smile to Celestia’s lips unbidden.

“Spike, did they have Clover’s Tretis on Leyline Variance?” She asked, not looking up from her work.

“Yes Twilight,” Spike said, offering her the book, it was almost immediately snatched up in the violet aura of Twilight’s magic. Celestia looked down at one of the books surrounding her and blinked. Several of them were for maintenance and possible malfunctions of a Magical Field Documentor.

“Good evening, Twilight,” she said pleasantly, not that it stopped Twilight from nearly jumping out of her skin, many of the documents in her magical field only just avoiding being launched across the room.

“Princess Celestia!” She said, smoothing her mane down. Celestia had to contain a chuckle. “Is it that late already?” She nodded. “Sorry, did you need me for something?”

“It’s no trouble, Twilight. Makuta Antroz wanted to thank you for waking Krika, and apologize for him implying a threat to you.” Twilight cocked her head slightly in confusion, “he wants to ensure you, Chirox and Mutran can continue to work together but was worried you might have been offended.”

“Oh, that,” Twilight perked back up, “I actually forgot about that. I was just considering going to get Chirox and Mutran, myself.” Celestia moved closer, setting herself down so she could get a closer look at what Twilight was working on.

It didn’t look like much of anything to Celestia at first glance, but there was certainly a lot of it, two piles of papers almost the size of a pony, several pages off the top of each layed out in front of her. On closer inspection one looked to be almost detailing the mechanics of a scrying spell, but the other was a jumbled mess of eight letters, repeated over and over again in seemingly random order.

“What is this?” Celestia asked, picking up the more chaotic of the two.

“I think, it’s what lets them see,” Twilight responded, sitting down next to Celestia to gesture at the more ordered one. “While we were working, Mutran revealed to me that their bodies, aren’t actually them.” Celestia blinked and looked down at her, “they’re just machines, casings for their true form, which is a gaseous form of energy they call Antidermis. Then that got me thinking, how can three of them be blind? Surely they must have attempted to replace the parts, and even if they didn’t, Mutran displayed an ability to almost instantaneously heal damage to his shell, so how are they still blind?”

She gestured first to the jumbled message in Celestia’s grip, then to the other, “the readout you’re holding came from Chirox, who is blind, and this one came from Krika, who can see. If I’m correct, something tampered with them, down at a base level. And if I can figure out how to cast these two spells, I can figure out how to fix it.”

“That’s quite impressive, Twilight,” Celestia nodded, but a moment later she felt her brow crease. “Though, are you sure that would be advisable? Krika may have been disoriented, but the fact he would still jump to his brothers attempting to dispose of you does not speak well of them.”

“That’s exactly why it needs to be done,” Twilight nodded firmly, her expression becoming slightly grim. “They’re trying to get our trust, but we need theirs, too, and this could be how we get it. Celestia, I saw Krika do something that’s hardly even been theory.” Celestia blinked, “the problem with Shadow Magic is that it gets much weaker during the day, the sunlight being out full force can push it away, the same way Light magic is harder to use at night, because there’s less of it. But these Makuta, they can eat it. I don’t mean like photosynthesis, or Light Magic, I mean they can directly convert sunlight into Shadow Energy.”

Celestia’s brow went up, “without even a trace of Chaos or Black Magic like you would expect from a conversion like that, just Darkness, and they can do it so quickly, so much at once, that it exceeds the amount of sunlight coming in. It’s perfectly stable in their hooves, too, no loss of control, no struggling against it. Krika was on death’s door and he was able to do this almost casually.”

Twilight put a hoof down on the pile she said was from Krika. “If they really are a form of life closer to magical construct than anything else like I believe they are, and like every line of this that I’ve looked through so far has told me, then the formula for that is somewhere in here. The key to magic in forms and on levels we’ve hardly even imagined is sitting, right here.” She patted the stack again and looked up at Celestia, her eyes practically shining with wonder, “every spell they know, every power they have, is right here, if we can just figure out how to properly translate it.”

Her ears went back a little sheepishly, “even if I hadn’t forgotten about what Krika said when I started going through these, I would still invite them back, I’m going to need their help, and I can tell that they’ll be just as excited as I am to really see their workings layed out in front of them.”

Her expression softened slightly, “and maybe, if we can share a project like this, we’ll be able to get through their caution and make friends.”

Celestia allowed herself a bit of pride at Twilight’s intent, reaching out a wing to pull Twilight in close against her side.

“I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. If anyone can get through to them, it’s you.” Celestia paused for a moment, a bit put out that she would need to consider this. “However, it may not be wise to mention you could return their sight.”

“Why?” Twilight looked up at her.

“They do not trust us yet, they may see this project as you holding it hostage if they know you’re working towards restoring their eyes. Better to surprise them with a gift than force them to wait for a treatment.”

Twilight’s expression turned to one of deep consideration as she looked over the two piles, holding up the different scrying portions. Her horn flashed brighter a moment, the two texts detached from the rest and she folded them up.

“Making friends out of strangers is so much harder when only one side is having a crisis,” she huffed, “politics.” Celestia couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement.

______

“You’ve seen the level of technology they have here, do you think you could do it?” Antroz asked, his blind eyes locked on Mutran. Mutran found his ability to do that unsettling.

“Maybe…” he responded, he probably could get out a message across the dimensions, but the risks could be problematic. “Are you sure this is our best option? I won’t be able to encode it or direct it, anyone could pick it up, anywhere.”

“If we want to get home, it’s our only option,” Antroz growled back. Mutran closed his eyes and mimed a deep breath, his thoughts felt clearer here for some reason. It wasn’t that Dark Princess, it some something different, some pressure had been lifted from his mind in this place.

“If this goes wrong, we could lose more than just a way home, and we might not be the only ones to suffer the consequences.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Author's Note

I'm much happier with this chapter, not much happens in it, but I was able to get in all of the setup I'm going to need for the slight timeskip coming up.

Act I: Hunger: Conviction

Twilight Sparkle’s head hit the desk in her room with an exasperated groan. She’d been working at this code for almost a week with no success; and it was a code, she was sure of it. The assortment of eight letters repeated seemed random at first glance, but there was a definite pattern, she just couldn’t figure out what it meant. It didn’t correspond to any form of glyph, writing, shape, anything she could think of or find to cross reference it with. She was starting to wonder if it was some kind of cypher that would only work in whatever writing system the Makuta used.

She’d figured out how to transcribe the Scrying Spell she got off of Krika into Equestrian magic rather easily, which had confirmed her suspicions. The spell had enhanced her sight, and allowed her to see even with her eyes closed. That had been a disconcerting experience to say the least, but it had been a good proof of concept.

Chirox’ had been a different matter entirely. There was no structure to it, it was like someone had taken the first half of the spell, mirrored it, dumped a ton of junk data into the middle, and then flipped the whole thing horizontally. She’d thought just stripping out the mess in the middle would have been enough, but that experiment had left her blind for almost an hour, it had taken multiple castings of the most powerful counterspell she knew to get rid of it.

If she could just figure out what the extraneous data meant she could make a proper solution, she was sure of it.

She might have been more patient with this if she’d been making good progress with the rest of the data she got off of them. The functions of their energy that allowed sight were relatively small, only two pages for Krika and five for Chirox, but everything else spanned dozens of pages, each of which had to be decoded, some of which needed to be put in the correct order, the Makuta had needed her to teach them how to read the data, and they hadn’t taken to that nearly as well as they had basic language.

Evidently where they came from these sorts of things were done with much less mathematical precision, closer to art than science. Twilight could respect that, and could see how shifting from that to the almost rigid structure they were working with now could throw them off balance, but it was still slowing things down considerably. They were quite enthusiastic about the work, though, evidently glad to have something to do.

Chirox was still as standoffish as ever, but it was easier to get him to respond with more than one or two words while he was working on something. Mutran would get over excited whenever he began to recognize something and end up snipping at anyone who attempted to ask what he’d found, though.

She glanced out the window, the sun was setting, soon Luna would bring out the moon. She sighed, she’d spent almost all day on this, again. She’d probably even missed dinner.

She looked down across Chirox’ garbled spell and set her jaw. If this really was some form of cypher, there was only one way she was going to crack it. She gathered it up, deciding to leave Krika’s here, she was still determined not to make them wait for her end result.

She headed back to the lab, either Chirox or Mutran could be found there any time Antroz hadn’t called on them and Krika didn’t need more than one person attending to him. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Krika since he’d woken. She shook the thought from her head, she’d worry about that once she was done with this project.

She entered the lab to a sight that was starting to become familiar, Mutran inspecting one of the pieces of equipment. He jumped slightly as she closed the door behind her.

“Twilight, hello,” he said, stepping away from the machine slightly. He kept doing that when he thought she wasn’t looking, inspecting the machines and sometimes carefully extracting parts; she hadn’t asked him about it yet, but she had told Celestia, she’d said to keep an eye out for whatever he was looking to build. “We missed you today,” she blinked, had she really not even checked in to help them with the data? “But, I think I found the start of something interesting.”

“Sorry, Mutran,” she took a deep breath, now or never. “I was working on this,” she floated the garbled mess of code over to him. “It’s something that caught my eye while Chirox was being scanned, I had hoped I’d be able to fast track it by working on it personally, but I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

His brow creased as he looked it over, but she did notice a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “I was hoping you could help me figure out where to start decoding it.”

“This is…” he started, trailing off and muttering to himself. He ran his claws along two of the lines of text, first right to left, then up to down. “This shouldn’t be in here.” Twilight winced, she’d hope she’d have some kind of plausible deniability about this.

“I thought so, but-”

“No, you don’t understand,” Mutran interrupted, “this really shouldn’t be here. This is genetic code, we don’t have genetics.” Twilight blinked, “are you sure this wasn’t a malfunction?”

“I’m sure,” she nodded, “I ran a full diagnostic on the machine, and looked up every possible glitch it could have, nothing matched that. What do you mean a genetic code?” Twilight flapped her wings to hover level with his face so she could read along with him. “No, better question, you can read genetics?”

“I was the premier geneticist in the Brotherhood,” Mutran’s chest puffed out with pride, “I could make a bird out of a rat if you gave me a week. Of course I can read it.” His expression fell again, “a better question is how did this get into Chirox.” He brought up one of his claws and began to chew at it, unfurling the document so he could look over the entirety of it.

Twilight cocked her head, she actually hadn’t considered that they wouldn’t know how this had happened. Actually, her ears tucked back a bit, she hadn’t even bothered to ask how they’d been blinded, too worried it might have been a touchy subject.

“Uh, Mutran, how did Chirox go blind?” She asked, hoping he wasn’t too engrossed in the code to answer.

“Huh?” His eyes flicked back up to her, “he was too close to the Kanohi Ignika when it went off, but I don’t see how that’s releva-” he froze, his eyes going back down to the paper. “The Ignika, Mask of Life.” He looked back up to Twilight, his brow twisted, Twilight couldn’t help but shrink a little under his piercing gaze. “You’re looking to reverse this.” Twilight could only nod. A conflicted look passed over his face and he puffed up, his wings fluttering behind him as he rolled the paper back up.

Twilight moved away from him a little, his expression kept shifting, like he was arguing with himself before it settled into curiosity. “You didn’t tell us about this, if you’d wanted to hold it over our heads you would have brought this up sooner, but if you didn’t intend to try and make good on that, you wouldn’t be looking for my help now. So why not tell us?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Twilight said, landing and rubbing her forelegs together nervously. “I didn’t want you to feel like I was holding it over your heads while we worked.”

“Well then,” Mutran’s face shifted into an eager grin, “I just cracked your case wide open, be sure to credit me.” He tapped the rolled up paper on his palm. “Bring me the counterpart from Krika’s so I know what it’s supposed to look like, and I’ll have your cure within the hour. I know how this happened.”

“What, how?” Twilight sputtered, he waved her off.

“Once I have something to rub in Chirox’ thieving face, go!” He cackled, rubbing his claws together. Twilight huffed, but obeyed, teleporting back to her room in the castle to retrieve the other sheet.

When she returned, Mutran had already plopped himself down at the desk she’d enlarged for him and was scribbling out notes on a spare piece of paper while he looked over Chirox’ code.

“I’ve got Krika’s,” Twilight called, jolting him out of his focus.

“Ah, thank you,” he snatched up the other printout. “Chirox and Antroz were too close to the Mask of Life when it was used, it sent out an enormous wave of energy. Think concentrated Life Force.” He brought up Krika’s readout to his face to start eagerly reading over it, “we thought the overabundance of energy just damaged their armour so badly none of the components they needed to rebuild their eyes were left. We didn’t have any more handy and our supply of donors was of deeply low quality. But if this thing is correct, the Ignika didn’t overload them, it tried to rewrite them. But we don’t have anything to rewrite so all this code that would have done something just ended up gunking up the… works.” His expression fell as he got to the bottom of Krika’s pages. “More math, bah!”

He smacked them down onto the desk, grumbling to himself, “how am I supposed to turn something this expansive into that?” He started tapping the side of his head, “wonderful, just great.” Twilight pulled up the second stool that she had enlarged for Chirox.

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” she said, setting herself down and grabbing a quill. Mutran looked over at her, his expression uncomprehending. “I started working on this because I wanted to help you guys, if you need some help figuring this out, I’m ready to lend a hoof.” He stared at her a moment longer before his smile came back, slightly softer around the edges this time.

“In that case, let’s get started.” He began tracing the code top to bottom, Twilight following along.

______

Luna supposed how comfortable she was becoming with Vamprah’s presence should have been some cause for alarm, but she could not deny he had been on his best behavior after his initial assault upon Steady Hoof. His moods seemed almost to reflect her own in a way, though it was subtle enough that she didn’t think any of the guards or Celestia had begun to notice yet his ire rose and fell in concert with her own, and the more comfortable she was at any given moment the more like an overgrown cat he behaved. He enjoyed his presence acknowledged, but would turn up his nose if it was directly influenced in manner beyond simple words when she was relaxed.

When she hadn’t ordered him to hold somewhere he was rarely out of her periphery, always at enough of a distance not to startle her, but close enough as to not be a distraction. They had almost settled into a routine. Him taking his place at her side once she had partaken of her evening meal and staying there until she took her morning rest. She’d heard rumors of him lurking around various places in the castle while she slept, but so far he had yet to do anything concerning. A spooked guard here or there and rumors of a ghost amongst the cooks and nobles were far from dastardly.

There was something almost reassuring about him, he carried himself with the casual sort of strength that felt no need to posture or prove itself, yet his focus, as keen as all around him could feel it, was primarily used in service of her. He seemed to be able to sense when another was nearby, even if they had yet to reveal themselves in any telling manner. Even Celestia was having some difficulty approaching her unawares now, and whispers were starting to spread of eyes in her mane.

So as worrying as Vamprah having the run of the place should have been, Luna found her concern resting firmly upon the other Makuta. After her first meeting with them they seemed to have made a concerted effort to avoid her, with infuriating success.

Part of her wanted to chastise herself for her indelicate handling of them during their first meeting, but she knew it would likely have been another factor. She glanced over at Vamprah, perhaps it was the very thing that drew him to her that pushed the others away. If Twilight was correct that they had never been treated with camaraderie than feeling drawn to her would no doubt have spooked them. She huffed a little to herself, wondering if there may be some way to silence it.

She turned towards Vamprah, about to ask, to see he had risen, teeth bared and wings twitching. Luna’s eyes narrowed as she turned to the entrance of the throne room. The door burst open, Krika scrambling in and slamming the door behind himself, darkness swirled about his enormous claws and bound the handles of the door together, she could hear her guards pounding at the door on the other side.

Luna rose as he turned to her, her horn glowing, Vamprah falling in line at her side, still snarling silently.

“You would be Makuta Krika, am I correct?” She said steadily, imperious. He looked over to her, his gaze flicking to Vamprah before settling on her. He flinched backwards, his face twisting into an expression of shock and horror. His movements were stiff, faltering, he was still recovering. Luna cocked an eyebrow and let her horn dim, “peace, Makuta, state your intent.” She waved a wing towards Vamprah, bidding him to stand down. His expression twitched for a moment, but he obeyed.

“I-” his breath hitched as he watched Vamprah slink back behind her. “I came to warn you.” He straightened his posture, his expression falling, “but I fear I’m already be too late.”

“Warn me?” Luna asked, studying the way he held himself. “Of what?” His eyes were flat, expressionless, and the rest of him was coiled, ready for something.

“I’ll tell you in a moment,” his eyes flashed bright yellow. Vamprah was moving before anything further could happen, he leaped over her as the air rippled, spreading his wings wide to cover her, the floor around Krika cracked and Luna found herself struck by a deafness. The silence was so pervasive she could hardly feel her own breath.

The moment passed and Vamprah folded his wings, now standing between her and Krika and snapping his teeth. The silence lifted and Luna was struck with the ringing echo of some booming eruption of sound. She glanced around, then back to Krika and the web of cracks in the floor around him.

“What is the meaning of this?” She demanded, taking a step forward to stand alongside Vamprah. “You barge into the throne room my sister and I share, bar the door, speak of warnings, then attempt to assault my person. Your explanation had best be worth it.” Krika shrunk back under her glare.

“Vamprah has done something to you,” he stammered out quickly, “I was trying to reverse it.”

“Oh, and what would he have done?” She asked, her brow going up incredulously.

“The Shadow Leeches, he’s used them to suck the Light out of you.” He said, taking another step forwards and glaring at Vamprah.

“The what?” Luna asked, flaring out her wings, but it seemed Krika was beyond intimidation now. “I’ve been drained of nothing, but trust if I had, you would not be the only to notice.” She flapped her wings, pushing herself forwards to stand before him and meet his gaze. “Tread carefully, Krika, your brother seems to hold no love for you. You would do well to ensure you not draw the ire of the only other person in this room as well.”

He backed away from her, wincing and shaking his head slightly, “explain yourself.”

“You,” he paused, looking her over, his gaze resting on the billowing stars of her mane for a long moment. “The other Makuta have tricked you.” His expression hardened to something almost disgusted. “If you had been told the truth, you would never have taken us in.”

“What we know hardly paints you or your siblings in a favourable light.” Luna said, watching Krika’s face twitch in surprise. “Generals, soldiers,” she nodded her head back towards Vamprah, “assassins; war with the cause of supplanting a silent God is still war, with all the bloodshed that implies.”

Krika opened his mouth a couple times, but did not speak, so Luna continued. “In a thousand years, especially with those your brother Antroz has referred to as ‘far from paragons of ethics,’ I find it doubtful we could call the six of you murderers without certainty.” He stared at her, dumbfounded, the shadows around the door fell away, letting her guards push it open and come to stand on either side of Krika, surrounding him.

“Then… why?” Krika murmured, slumping slightly, “how can you justify allowing us to stay here?” He shook his head, “we’re- we’re evil.” Luna let her gaze soften, reaching out a hoof to rest on one of the small flat spaces on his blades.

“Because once I was no different,” his gaze came back to her, his eyes narrowed. “As my subjects, my sister, and her student have saved me, I wish to help you.” He pulled away from her.

“You can’t save us,” he spat, Luna blinked and stepped back. “Not when they haven’t saved you, not from what you are.” Luna cocked her head.

“Have you none who would care for you?” He stared at her, uncomprehending, “none who you would care for?” He shook his head slowly, still not seeming to understand. “Then you cannot speak on whether my friends, my sister, have proven my salvation.”

“For Karzahni’s sake!” Gorast’s voice rang out, Luna’s ear twitched towards the door, Krika’s entire body shifting to face it. She wasn’t in sight yet, but Luna could hear her grumbling to herself as she approached.

“This has been an… enlightening meeting, Krika,” Luna said, her mind racing. Antroz had done quite a bit to control the narrative they had received, to have one of their number attempt to sabotage it would not sit well with him. She glanced over to Krika, his mask sputtered uselessly on his face and there was the spark of terror in his eye.

She nodded to herself. “There is no need for your siblings to hear just how much so,” Krika’s gaze snapped back to her. “I would be a foul host if I were to allow a guest to fall under retribution simply for speaking the truth as he saw it.” She glanced back to Vamprah, “if that is agreeable to all present?”

Vamprah puffed up in irritation for a moment but relented, shaking his head dismissively and bowing. Krika gaped, but was able to compose himself before Gorast rounded the corner.

“There you are,” she growled, glancing between him and Luna, a dangerous smile spread across her face. “I don’t care how lax of a Rahisitter Chirox is, you know the rules.” She turned her gaze to Luna and her smile lost a bit of its edge for a moment before she clenched her fists and it returned. “I hope he hasn’t given you too much trouble?” She glanced down at the spiderweb of cracks on the ground.

“Nay, he found himself drawn to me,” Luna replied casually, “much in the same manner Vamprah was.” Her gaze flicked to Gorast, much the same way she had, the message was silent, but from the slight step back she took Luna could tell it had gone through. “He hadn’t expected to see Vamprah, however, and momentarily lost control of himself. He is still recovering from allowing your entrance to our world, after all.”

Gorast’s face relaxed, but Luna could see the slight disappointment in her eyes.

“Nothing else?” She asked, Luna shook her head. “Good,” she growled, gesturing towards Krika, “you’re still coming with me. Now come on, before I have to carry you.” She looked to Luna, an unreadable expression crossing her face.

“If you wish to visit me yourself, you are welcome anytime,” Luna said pleasantly, a gentle smile slipping onto her face. Krika threw an incredulous glance her way, but Gorast didn’t seem to notice, her focus entirely on Luna. She grunted noncommittally and turned to go. Krika hesitated for a moment, but Luna gestured with a wing and he obeyed, following after her.

Once they were gone and the guards stepped back outside the door Luna allowed herself a long, relieved breath as she lit her horn and repaired the floor where Krika had broken it. She wasn’t quite sure why, but a certainty had settled into her chest that Gorast would take her up on her offer this time.

______

Vamprah listened closely to Luna, she had practically been starting to sing out irritation and it had made it tough to keep his armour laying smooth. Yet now, with an encounter that should have ratcheted up her stress, she pulsed with a self assured calm. He almost felt envious of how freely she could feel, even if she had to remain relatively composed on the surface he could hear the storms of it raging through her.

He just felt tired most of the time.

His siblings were hardly worth all this investment if anyone had bothered to ask him. They could avoid the Kraahkan all they liked, just meant he got more time with her without their distractions tugging at him. There were other distractions, sure, but they were easy to hide from, usually tolerable, and when they weren’t Luna would send them away before they got too much on her nerves. He could only remember one other time he’d been so grateful to have someone with a shorter temper than his around.

He shook his head, wouldn’t do to dwell on that.

Luna sounded emboldened, almost restless as he set himself down next to her throne. He wondered what she was going to do with it. He hoped she wasn’t about to start dreamhopping so early in the night. She became such a jumbled confusion of sounds and feelings when she did that, it got overwhelming for him to be around quickly. She should go flying, he thought, it had been a bit since he’d last done that, it was always good.

“Vamprah,” she said, standing in front of him rather than sitting back on her throne. Vamprah turned his head to her, people had an easier time believing he was listening when he did that. “I have a question to ask of you.” He nodded, she and the Avokhii always had questions, “you need not answer if you do not wish.” He waved a wing for her to get on with it.

She took a breath and he could hear her steeling herself, strange, she’d sounded so confident a moment ago. He found himself envying her range of emotion again. “Your back ist padded in a manner that none of the others are, sister and Twilight have helped me check.” He felt himself go very still, he didn’t want to think about this.

Just ask why, he silently hoped at her, he needed her to ask why and leave it at that, he wouldn’t be able to answer that, he could handle not answering. “And your wings are aligned to allow another to grip your sides whilst sitting astride you.” He felt something in him beginning to yawn open, an empty space he resolutely ignored.

Luna stopped for a moment, he heard her feel the room going colder. He had to control himself, reel it in, he was impassive, he was silent. Luna pressed on regardless, “who was your rider?” He felt himself twitch, that empty space threatening to swallow him whole. He wanted to howl, to scream at her to stop pushing. “Were they a Sibling to you?”

His voice didn’t come to him, it so rarely did, but the cold clawing on his insides boomed out nonetheless. Luna gasped, he needed to reel himself in, he closed his mind. He was silence, he felt only what was necessary, he did his job and no one would know until it was done.

He needed to get away, he did not think on this, he needed to escape before he ended. He rose from his spot; but where to go? He could go to his siblings, but he already knew they would regard his reappearance, especially like this, as a sign that something had gone wrong, they needed these people to get home, he knew they did, he couldn’t risk forming a rift. He couldn’t just go somewhere alone, he could not be alone when he got like this, he needed other thoughts, other minds to fill the gaps it left behind.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings at some point, too engrossed in fighting back the growing hole in his core. Something soft wrapped around him. He froze, unsure what to do, if he should do anything. Luna made a sound, not a word, almost musical, and he felt that gaping in himself still, not fought back, but calmed for the moment.

He let his mind reopen, wondering why she had done this. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.” She sang out a desire, to comfort, to help. He found himself frozen.

He couldn’t speak, his voice still refused to answer his call. She was so close, he could tear her throat out if he wished, he could do as Krika had feared and unleash his Shadow Leeches on her. It would be easy to destroy her here, so easy, too easy, his Sister wouldn’t have approved. The thought made him cringe and the emptiness pulse at him, but he obeyed. He took a risk, pushing a feeling out to her.

My Sister, he thought at her, she nodded and he hesitated, a feeling pushing up through that emptiness inside of him, begging to be released, she’s gone. He felt strange, confronting this with someone else. He’d confronted it alone in Karda Nui, silent among people who didn’t know, who would have only been confused if they did. That silence in him began to go still, retreat back into the corner where he could ignore it.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, she didn’t jump at his thoughts, she didn’t sound startled to have heard him, had she known?

Better this way, he whispered, feeling another piece of himself still, the storm, the others wouldn’t have saved her. He knew this, Krika hadn’t saved them out of the goodness of his heartstone. He needed them to keep the Crast active, to survive the storm himself. She could hardly use her Noble Kanohi, a Great Kanohi like the Crast would have been far beyond her, not worth the other’s time.

“She lives?” He nodded, he hoped, he hoped dearly that she lived. That she hadn’t done something stupid like he would have and gotten herself killed. “Then we will see you reunited.” Vamprah felt himself puff up, why would she promise him something like that? He knew the others had a plan, he could hear them, even from here if he tried, but she didn’t know about that. There’s no way she could have known that.

He stilled his mind, fully under his control again, and she drew away from him. “I spoke true to your brother, in any way I can, I will help you.” He cocked his head, they were her problem for now, but she had no true reason to be so invested in them. “You are of the Night, not mine, but you are drawn to me and I to you nonetheless. If the one responsible for your creation will not take responsibility for your well being, I shall.”

Vamprah huffed and set himself back down, he wasn’t worth all of this trouble. Yet, he heard from her that there was nothing he could do to dissuade her from putting in the effort. He felt something deep inside the hollow stir.

______

Mutran hummed to himself as he sauntered back towards the room the Makuta were sharing. He felt quite good about himself, sure he had needed some help from Twilight, but ultimately she’d come to him for help, not the other way around. He counted this as a win for himself primarily. Not to even mention the fact that he was relatively certain he had the Princess’ trust now.

He glanced up at the sky, it was starting to pale with dawn, perhaps he should wait to tell the others until Twilight had gotten some rest, organics had their circadian rhythms to worry about, after all. He almost dismissed the thought as nonsense, but remembered he had to maintain Twilight’s trust if he wanted to keep it, and concerning himself with her health was a good way to do that. He growled under his breath. Things were so much easier working from a position where he could just replace things if they stopped cooperating.

He shook his head, he could still rub half of his accomplishment in their faces. He’d figure out how he could eliminate the inconvenience of Twilight’s need for trivial mortal things like sleep later.

Stepping into the barracks he ignored the cautious glances of the pony guards they’d been forced to share quarters with. Apparently their rooms in the castle proper were still being prepared, their size in particular proving a challenge in finding proper accommodations. He rubbed his claws together and kicked open the door to his sibling’s room.

“Guess who ju-” he was forced quiet by a quite effective pounce from Gorast, pinning him to the floor with one set of claws wrapped around his neck and the other pulled back, ready to deck him in the mask. Oh right, Gorast’s first response to everything was violence. He glared up at her with a grin, “rude.”

She snarled and snapped her teeth, visibly disappointed she wasn’t going to be able to gut him.

“Gorast, get back here,” Antroz barked, Mutran looked around Gorast’s suitably oversized head to see him rubbing between his eyes again. There was a part of Mutran that took pride in the fact that they all irritated their “leader” so thoroughly, it’s what he deserved for assuming he had any real authority over them. Gorast threw Mutran an ugly look before releasing him, hardly an accomplishment with her mask, but he got the point.

Mutran dusted himself off as he rose.

“Now that that’s taken care of,” he stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind himself. “Guess who just solidified his position with the youngest Princess,” he drawled out, examining his claws lazily and leaning back against the door. There was a good few seconds of silence that Mutran chose to believe was stunned before one of them took the hint and guessed.

“You,” Antroz finally said, sounding a mixture of deeply unimpressed and admiring. Antroz never did have the taste for proper dramatics, despite all his interpersonal posturing, he still knew how to recognize when someone came into possession of an important asset, though.

Mutran clicked his fangs in affirmation and glanced over to Chirox, who looked as rightly irritated as he’d hoped he would. He caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and turned to regard Krika, who was staring at him looking properly horrified. Mutran chuckled, that was always how he knew if he’d done a good job, if Krika didn’t approve.

“How?” Chirox spat, standing and scratching at his knuckles. Mutran crooked an eyebrow, he hadn’t expected it to bother Chirox that much.

“I helped her with a little surprise,” he chuckled as Chirox’s face twisted in fury. “No, I can’t tell you what it is.” He turned to Antroz, “praising her student helps butter up Celestia, right?” Antroz nodded, “then I’ve got some ammunition for you come this afternoon. She really is brilliant, I never would have considered her plan. You should count yourselves lucky, my solution was going to be considerably more messy.”

Mutran’s grin stretched a bit sharper as he noticed the minute flinch in Antroz’ movement at that.

______

The town was abandoned. Tempest Shadow squinted as she looked across the buildings around her, her ears twitching as she tried to pick up even the slightest sound beyond the quiet rustle of the wind and her partner’s footsteps in the snow beside her. It didn’t look like its inhabitants left peacefully, either. Some of the buildings had their fronts bashed in, there were the telltale scorch marks of panicked magical blasts on almost every standing wall, and the nearest Guard station...

Well, if she’d been a different mare she would have shuddered thinking of what she’d seen there.

“Uh, Tempest,” Grubber murmured, his spines standing on end. Tempest twitched her eyes to him and nodded, pushing down the instinct to snap at him to be quiet. “Look over there, I think I see something.” He was pointing between a pair of the buildings, towards the center of town, Tempest squinted towards the spot. The air seemed to change there, a heavy fog hanging just over the fence between the two.

“Good eye,” she murmured, trying not to sound begrudging. She turned to head towards it, keeping her head low. She didn’t know what she was walking into, best not to draw too much attention.

“Wai-hold on, we’re heading towards the ominous mist?” Grubber hissed, tiptoeing after her nonetheless. Tempest nodded again, not taking her eyes off the gap in the fence she was making for.

Peering through the gap she could see very little, the outlines of several more buildings, but nothing to indicate who had sacked this town and made off with the inhabitants. She didn’t hear any movement either, so she waved for Grubber to keep following her and hopped over the fence.

Grubber let out a quiet sigh but followed, “like we don’t get enough trouble from people who remember you.” Tempest was tempted to zap him for that, but she took a deep breath, she was working on turning over a new leaf, her temper needed managing.

The fog was thick enough that she could barely keep track of Grubber behind her, little more than a hazy outline at her back. It muffled sounds, too, where his footsteps had been cautious but detectable in the snow before, now she could hardly hear them at all. It made her grit her teeth, anything could be in here, and she wouldn’t hear it until it was right on top of her. She swore under her breath, they needed to get above this mist. It might compromise her stealth, but it would be a better position to see anyone else trying to slink around down at street level.

“Hang on,” she said, Grubber jumping slightly as she turned and grabbed him by the scruff of his vest. She leapt, tossing him onto the roof of a nearby building. He landed with a louder thud than she’d hoped for, but she didn’t hear anything reacting just yet. She waited down on the ground for a couple more seconds, but once she was sure nothing was zeroing in on them she took a running start and jumped up to join him on the roof.

The air was much clearer, even just this high up. Tempest squinted, there weren’t many forces she knew of who could keep clouds this low. Possibly a rogue lieutenant of the Storm King, then? That didn’t add up, though; she’d practically taught all of the Storm King’s forces their tactics, if it had been one of them there would be patrols, they didn’t give up territories once they captured them.

She spotted movement and light towards the edge of the fog off towards the east. “Come on,” she murmured to Grubber, starting after the light across the tops of the buildings. She heard him grumble something about hating parkour, but her focus was on whatever that light was.

She had to be careful, there were enough shattered shingles up here to give her away or make her fall at a moment’s notice, but she was able to thread her way over to the light. She found a building behind it and ducked down, hoping the curve of it would be enough to hide her from the enormous bipedal shapes moving through the mist.

A creature stepped out of the fog like nothing she had ever seen. It was almost twice as tall as she was, armoured from head to toe, with strange hydraulic components hissing slightly as it moved. A dark, ragged cape billowed around its shoulders, pinned in place by a long, curved spear, only letting her catch glimpses of the silvery chestplate and pauldrons beneath. Its feet were enormous, three black and silver claws to each, they almost looked like they’d be more at home on a bird than whatever this was. Its hands with wicked black claws held a lantern in one hand to light its way, in the other it was tossing the helmet from a Pony Guard’s suit of armour up and down almost casually.

What had Tempest gaping, however, was its head. Its face was golden, almost insectoid, with enormous mandibles framing its mouth, but it transitioned into a silver further up, leaving a bizarre, grinning, ape-like face with oversized, flat teeth staring straight up. She would have thought it a decorative piece of its armour if it weren’t for the fact that the second face’s mouth would open every few seconds, the sound of heavy breathing coming from it.

“What a pathetic town,” the creature drawled out of its frontward turned face, catching the helmet out of the air and crushing it in its grip like so much tin foil. “What a pitiful world.”

“What’d I miss?” Grubber hissed, landing with a thud next to Tempest, making her jump slightly. Red eyes she hadn’t noticed on the second face opened and flicked over to her. The second face’s jaw opened wide, a thoroughly unhinged cackle springing forth from it. The creature turned around and smacked its second face to make it go quiet, glaring up at Tempest and Grubber.

It dropped the destroyed helm, raised its hand, and snapped its fingers. A dozen even larger shapes in the mist below sprang up towards her, and Tempest ran.

Author's Note

I'm moving this upcoming week, so the next chapter is probably gonna be a week or two late, but I promise it'll be a doozy. The tension pops and we'll finally get some of the action you were all promised by that Adventure tag as Act 1 comes to a close.

Act I: Hunger: Sight

Tempest needed to get to lower ground away from this damn fog. She dodged around a patch of loose shingles. The roofs in this place weren’t built for combat, too many points she could slip and fall, and her opponents had the advantage of not needing to close the gap, or having a dead weight on their backs slowing them down.

Grubber clung to her back, head down and shouting in panic every time a bolt of darkness whizzed past his head, which was entirely too often for her tastes. She’d been moving at full speed from the start and their aim was only improving, if she didn’t reach the edge of the fog soon they were going to be hit. If they knocked her off balance up here it was over.

She needed something to push them back long enough for her to orient herself. Flicking her eyes across the rooftops she spotted the next best thing to a proper barrier and shifted course slightly to reach it, an alleyway that ended against a building with a flat roof. She saw the hazy outlines of pursuers down in the fog below her following close behind as she made a hard right, leading them down the alley. Now came the risky part.

She braced her hooves, feeling both the shingles and her joints tremble dangerously beneath her as she pushed, leaping over the alley to reach the other building’s roof. Grubber screamed entirely too close to her ear, making sound ring sharp and painful in her head, but she was flying true. She allowed herself a smirk as one of her front hooves touched the roof, but then the wind was driven out of her by an impact.

She grit her teeth and stars popped across her vision as one of their bursts of shadow hit home across the left side of her ribs. There was a moment of breathless weightlessness before she felt the rough concrete of the roof she’d been aiming for smash across her brow, her sense of balance spinning wildly as she tumbled end over end, skidding to a painful stop. She gasped through the pain, trying to regain her bearings. She didn’t feel Grubber’s weight on her back, she lifted her head, blinking to clear her vision and try to locate him.

“Ah Tartarus,” he swore, scrambling to his feet and rushing over to Tempest as she tried to catch her breath, “those things aren’t gonna be far behind, what do I do?” He grabbed at her hooves and tried to drag her. Tempest waved him off, breathing deeply through her nose to try and get her breathing under control but the attempt sent violent twinges through her left side, almost driving her back down in a coughing fit.

“I’ll be fine,” she was cut off by another cough, but she forced herself to her hooves. Her chest burned and stung with the pain of what was likely a bruised rib, maybe a cracked one. They needed to get out of here, now. She could take maybe one or two things bigger than her in this state, but there were far more of them down there. “Come on, we need to find somewhere safe to put out a call.” Looking out from where she was now she could see the edge of the fog, it had expanded to encompass the entire town but she was almost to the edge of it.

She tried to jump to the edge of the roof and felt another painful twinge lance through her chest. Though she was able to contain her reaction to just wincing slightly she wouldn’t be able to keep to the skyline anymore, the jolts of jumping from roof to roof would only exacerbate her injury. She grabbed Grubber by the scruff of his neck again and tossed him back down to ground level before jumping after him. She let her legs take the impact but couldn’t help the sharp stab she felt in her chest, making her body lock up as she skidded considerably more than she would have liked. Grubber threw her a concerned look as he pulled himself to his feet but she just shook her head and bit her tongue, turning to run.

They started running through the muffling fog, making it another couple of blocks before they heard what must have been a quite impressive explosion behind them. Tempest quietly cursed the weather teams this far north, with just the snow everywhere and all the plant life barren it was going to be tough to find somewhere they could hide and her left side was already starting to protest her movements more mightily.

If they couldn’t find somewhere to hide they’d just need to put on enough distance that it wasn’t worth chasing them. She grit her teeth and ignored the growing pain as she reached the edge of the fog, the sound of the wind returned in a rush and she felt the cold air stabbing into her coat, soothing her chest slightly. A bruise then.

She didn’t allow them to pause once they reached open air, choosing a direction with halfway decent ground cover to continue her escape. As annoying as it was from a tactical standpoint, the mist had worked both ways, out here they were exposed and, injured as she was, at an even greater disadvantage. Now she just had to hope they could manage to get far enough away before those creatures figured out where they had gone.

______

Twilight cast the spell, capturing the essence of it in a jar on her desk. The energy of it pulsed against the runed walls of its container, changing from Twilight’s purple to a bright, gleaming gold. It didn’t look like the pollution of an incredibly intricate scrying spell. Now that she knew where it had come from, what it had been meant to be, she could almost feel the harmonies of Life Magics singing out from inside of it as a physical sensation, could see the structure it had been meant to have. It almost felt pure in a way.

She shook her head, there was something hypnotic about the corrupted spell once it was active, something that almost had the draw of obsession some of the more powerful magical artifacts had. It honestly shouldn’t have even been able to sustain itself like this, it wasn’t a spell in any conventional sense, it just forced the magic inscribing it into a structure resembling a cell and that, somehow, let it exist in isolation. She shuddered to think what standing next to the Kanohi Ignika would be like if just its aftershocks could create such a construct and pull on her mind like this.

She concentrated on the spell she and Mutran had crafted to counteract it. It was a strange sort of spell, a combination of Life and Soul magics that had to be more coerced into cooperating than anything else, but it only needed to work for a split second. She closed her eyes and channeled the spell into the jar, letting it wash over the corrupted version and sink in. She opened her eyes, watching as the counterspell did its work.

It was almost frightening, watching the golden light dim, the living magic smothered out as the original shape of the scry took precedence, but when it was done the spell glowed purple with Twilight’s magic again. Now for the moment of truth. She closed her eyes and opened the jar, letting the spell take its desired place layered across her mind. She kept her eyes closed but the world around her came into sharp relief, more detail than she ever would have noticed with her eyes open readily apparent.

She glanced over to a bookshelf next to her desk and could see almost every speck of dust floating in the air between her and it, every fleck that landed on the shelf. It made her head hurt a little but she was able to focus on the book she wanted to after a moment. It was like there was no difference between her peripheral and central vision, that slight blur on the edges of her focus dearly missed now that it wasn’t there. She cancelled the spell and opened her eyes, her vision returning to normal.

She let out a breath, she’d been testing the spell since she woke up at almost noon. It had been a bit shaky at first, but with a couple tweaks and shifting her focus from making the magic do its job to more gently asking it to it had worked consistently for the last hour of her working with it. She wondered if this was the way all magic worked where the Makuta were from, more request than command, or if it just had to be this way to work with the aftereffects of something as apparently profoundly powerful as the Ignika. She’d have to ask Mutran and Chirox later.

For now, though, she had a job to do. She yawned, she’d hardly gotten six hours of sleep, but she’d done more on less. She headed for the throne room, it would be best for this to be done somewhere with the proper grandeur. A smile tugged at her face as she imagined the first thing Chirox saw after months of blindness being the stained glass lining the hall. She didn’t know what he regarded as beauty, this would be a great opportunity to learn.

Celestia was spending her day in the conference hall with the various heads of state that helped her keep the nation running smoothly, so she knew the throne room itself would be empty as she needed it to be. She asked a guard to send for the Makuta to meet her there and couldn’t help the slight skip in her step as she entered and made her way to the throne. She considered sending for Celestia as well, but this was meant to be a gift to future friends, not a political move, it would sent the wrong message to have anyone other than her there.

She felt the base of her mane start to stand on end and looked around the room, it wouldn’t have been the first time she stumbled upon Vamprah just going about her day, but it was a strangely conspicuous moment for him to appear. She didn’t see him and the moment passed; she shrugged, perhaps she was getting paranoid, or he’d just been passing through.

She didn’t have to wait much longer for the Makuta to arrive, Mutran leading the pack with a prideful swagger. The others filed into the room in short order. Twilight noticed Krika was among them this time and gave him a smile and a nod of greeting. Vamprah slunk through the door just before it closed, making Gorast and Krika jump slightly when they noticed him. Twilight couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that came from her. Apparently he had the same effect on the other Makuta as he did on ponies.

She cleared her throat as Mutran strode forwards to stand beside her. She blinked and he just threw her a proud smile. She rolled her eyes at him, he had told her to credit him.

“Antroz, Chirox, Vamprah, if you could step forwards.” Antroz and Vamprah did right away, but Chirox hesitated, an almost resentful expression twitching across his face before he stood before her. “Thank you,” Twilight rose off the throne, “for the last five days I have been working on something for you. I had little progress until last night, when I asked your brother Mutran for help, and from there we were able to complete the spell I am about to cast on you.”

Antroz’ brow went up, but Twilight cut him off at the pass. “I assure you, there are no adverse effects, I have tested this spell thoroughly, both on myself and the affected process in isolation.” She stood in front of Antroz, “Antroz, if you wou-” A clumsy, if bright and cheery, jingle filled the air from the other side of the door. Twilight blinked in confusion, looking past the Makuta to see the door.

“Twilight!” Spike shouted, barrelling through it with a vial of glowing blue liquid in one hand and a bowl under his other arm. “We’ve got a problem!” The vial let out another bout of clunky music.

“Is that Tempest’s emergency line?” Twilight asked, stepping around Antroz, who stood aside, a puzzled expression on his face as Spike nodded. Twilight looked back at the Makuta to find similar expressions on each of them, Mutran’s in particular incredulous bordering on livid. “I’m sorry, but I have to take this.” She turned back to Spike, who had set the bowl down, “answer it.”

Spike poured the vial into the bowl, it erupted into a haze of blue smoke, the strange, grating sound of the spell connecting to its counterpart in Tempest’s hooves making Twilight’s ears go back.

“Come on already, this spell isn’t exactly quiet, we’re gonna have those things on us any minute with this racket and she can’t even answer the potion?” Grubber’s lisping voice came through as Tempest appeared in the smoke.

“She did, Grubber, calm down,” Tempest growled through a wince. She was moving carefully, almost stiff.

“Tempest, what’s wrong?” Twilight asked.

“This had better be good,” Mutran barked, “I was just about to unveil a crowning achievement!” Tempest crooked an eyebrow and Antroz snipped at Mutran in their native tongue, gesturing for Gorast to come closer. Twilight grinned sheepishly at Tempest’s raised eyebrow.

“I see I caught you in the middle of something,” Tempest spoke quickly, if a bit faintly, like she was afraid to take too deep of a breath. “I was already going to make this quick. I’m in a town just south of Yakistan, and everyone’s been abducted.” Twilight gasped, “it’s not Changelings or any other force I know of, Twilight. I don’t recognize the thing that did this.”

“You saw them?” Twilight asked, the Makuta had begun murmuring among themselves in their native tongue.

“Visibility was poor, I only saw one of them,” Tempest shook her head, “and it was weird.”

“Describe it?” Twilight asked.

“Uhh, Tempest,” Grubber hissed from out of view, but Tempest ignored him.

“Almost as tall as the Storm King, bipedal, primarily black and silver armour,” Twilight heard a sigh of what sounded like relief from Mutran as Tempest continued, “it was hunched and had mechanical components all over, carried a curved spear and a lantern.” Gorast twitched, taking a step forwards, but Antroz grabbed her shoulder before she could get close enough for Tempest to see her.

Tempest shivered, blowing a breath between her hooves and rubbing them together. “It was wearing some form of mask, I think.”

“You think?” Twilight probed, ignoring another murmur from Gubber on the other side of the line.

“It’s the only way I have to explain what I saw. It had two faces,” Twilight heard Gorast’s teeth snap and turned back to her, her blood ran cold for a moment. Gorast’s eyes were wide as the needlepoint grin stretched across her face, burning with a kind of devotion bordering on obsession Twilight had seen too many times in the mirror growing up. “A forward facing golden one, and an upward turned silver one.” The fire in Gorast’s eyes went out and Twilight found herself releasing a breath she didn’t notice she’d been holding as Gorast’s expression twisted in confusion. “Twilight?”

“Sorry,” Twilight said, shaking her head and returning her attention to Tempest. “I’ve recently gained some friends who know a thing or two about special masks, one of them distracted me, is there anything else you can tell us about it?”

“The golden half had mandibles,” Tempest nodded, “enormous, like an ant. The silver half had very big, flat teeth and an exposed hinge for its jaw.” Twilight turned to Antroz expectantly.

“Any of that sound familiar?” She asked.

“The first…” he hesitated, his expression conflicted, “sounds like it could be an Olmak, but the second doesn’t match any Kanohi I know of, it sounds like a Skakdi’s face.”

“Skakdi, Olmak?” Tempest asked, “what is he talking about?”

“The Olmak is a mask that allows the user to create portals to anywhere they like,” Antroz huffed, “both in this universe and others, but a Skakdi is an ape creature of debatable intelligence and negligible discipline. They’re thugs; I can’t imagine one of them getting their hands on an Olmak, much less being able to use it.”

“Tempest!” Grubber shouted from the other end, the perspective through the mist shook violently as a sound like thunder boomed through it. Twilight heard Tempest shout something but couldn’t make it out as she was shoved aside on a rush of blackness.

What stepped forwards to take her place was enormous, only the bottom half of its face and upper half of its chest showing through, despite being hunched over in a crouch. Dark, silvery grey and white armour rushed past and came to a stop in front of the viewport. A sleek, rounded chin in dark metals led up to a mouth pulled in a grimace. It stood up to its full height, pistons in its chest, an almost leaflike chestplate in dark grey, and arms in gleaming white hissing as white claws came into view, a weakly struggling Grubber held in one hand, his back pressed up against a silvery attachment to the creature’s lower arm. It raised its arm and shouted something in the Makuta’s language, its voice surprisingly boyish.

“Fizzlepop!” Twilight shouted, taking a step forwards, a mechanical whir and the clatter of metal sounding behind her. The creature twitched and turned, driving something through whatever bowl Tempest had been using to channel the spell in a flash of silver. The blue cloud twitched and shuddered before sinking back down into the bowl.

Twilight turned to the Makuta to find them in a state of disarray. Looking over them she realized the sound she’d heard had been the six of them scrambling away from the communication spell. Antroz stood stiffly, a hand on one of the axes strapped to his hip and the other on a snarling, practically vibrating Gorast’s shoulder to keep her in place, her arms had unfolded from two into four, her silver fore-claws bristling on the top pair and her thumbs flexing dangerously on the bottom. Chirox had stepped behind Mutran and Twilight caught him clutching at a spot on his chest for a moment before shaking his head and taking his hand away. Krika’s eyes were narrowed, his body seemed almost hazy, streaks of white and red bleeding off of him into the air around him. Vamprah was nowhere to be seen and Mutran was staring at one of his hands, his expression puzzled.

Twilight took a deep breath and felt her expression harden slightly. They knew who that was, they knew and they were afraid. Their war had come knocking on her doorstep. And she had already taken a side.

She felt panic welling up inside her, her chest feeling tight and heat rising in her face. They still didn’t know what these Toa were physically capable of, she’d been hoping to gather more information once she’d befriended the Makuta, but now it seemed they were out of time. They were going to be going into this blind! Then there were the Makuta themselves, who knew how they would react to this, they had said they would run, but if the Toa were really clearing people out in their search how long would it be before the Toa and their allies made a proper offensive against Equestria?

She brought up a hoof and let the breath out, her expression settling, she couldn’t panic, she couldn’t be angry. She, Celestia and Luna had made a miscalculation, that was all, the situation was salvageable. Or, it would be soon. “Who was that?” She asked, unable to help the slight tremble in her voice.

“Takua, Toa of Light,” Antroz said, his voice as expressionless as his face. “He was created to destroy us.” Gorast snapped her teeth again and growled out something in their tongue. Antroz’ expression returned with a blink, a look of consideration flashing across his features. “Something’s wrong,” he gestured for silence, “Mutran, was his armour still dark?”

“Huh?” Mutran jumped slightly, his gaze leaving his hand to scan over the others, “yes, it was.”

“Toa of Light and Shadow in equal measure still, then. That doesn’t explain what he’s doing in running with a Skakdi.” He hummed to himself, “if he had been here for us, he hardly would have been chasing down one of the natives like that, either.” Twilight blinked, he had a point. They may have been cagey about the Toa’s usual operating styles, but taking hostages at weaponpoint hardly seemed to mesh with “self-proclaimed heroes.”

“We’ve been out of the picture too long,” Chirox cleared his throat, stepping out from behind the still dazed Mutran. “We don’t know how allegences have shifted in our absence… Or, for that matter, how long we’ve even been out of the loop.” He added something in the Makuta’s tongue.

“Because she’s already seen enough to know they’re involved now, no matter what it turns out is happening.” Antroz turned his head towards Twilight and hesitated for a moment. “Princess Twilight,” he said after he suppressed some expression Twilight couldn’t quite read, “these are your lands and your subjects, what will you do?”

Twilight gulped, but drew herself up tall. She’d been around enough of the politicians in Celestia’s court to know what he was trying to do, he was pushing her, trying to see how reliable she would be under pressure. He wanted to know if he could count on her.

“We need information, and Tempest is my friend,” she took another deep breath and this time let her expression harden with determination. The Makuta may be warriors by nature, but she had faced down creatures both mundane and legendary, and through the power of wit and friendship, had prevailed. “I will send a team to investigate, and if they can, rescue her and Grubber. With any luck, we can figure out what they want.”

“Mutran, Gorast and I will accompany your team,” Antroz nodded, apparently satisfied. “We’ve fought Takua before, so he’ll be focused on us, but they’re the only two of us in peak form right now. I can help organize your movements against both Toa and Skakdi, and if worst comes to worst, those two at the very least will be able to cover a retreat.” Gorast shot him an indignant look and Antroz’ eyes flashed brighter red.

Twilight opened her mouth to say something, remembering what she’d been about to do for them, but shut it. She glanced over to Mutran, but he seemed lost in his head, still inspecting the claws of his left hand. She couldn’t restore their sight now, it would be too convenient, they would think she’d already known what was happening and had done it to ensure they would stand and fight. It would turn from a gift into an obligation. She forced her face not to twist into a grimace as guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Mutran had already agreed not to say anything about it until she decided to deliver, she threw him a look that she hoped got through to him, he would have to keep the secret a little longer.

“I need to tell Princesses Celestia and Luna,” she said firmly, she would make it up to them, she wouldn’t leave their side until she could restore their sight. “And I’ll be going, too.”

______

He’d jumped right to Chirox’ defense. Mutran thought numbly as they made their way back to their room, Antroz throwing his and Gorast’s orders at them, too quickly for Mutran to follow right now.

When all the others had stepped back from Takua’s voice, he had stepped forwards. He blinked, he had stepped forwards and put out a hand to cover Chirox. Why had he done that? Takua’s presence meant all of Antroz’ scheming was about to come crashing down around their masks, yes, that had sent a wave of panic through them, yes, but he had never been the type to step forwards towards adversity.

Had he?

He rubbed his brow, so much of what came before he’d been broken was hazy. He knew he was different now than he’d been, but he couldn’t remember how. He glanced at Chirox, still scowling and trying to keep from itching at the spot where Takua had once blown a hole through him. A feeling twisted in Mutran’s chest, something akin to rage. Jealousy? Possession? He couldn’t identify it, but he knew it came from knowing Chirox was in danger.

Why should he care? It should have delighted him to see that thief laid low, but instead a protective fury was settling into his claws. He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what was causing this muddying of his thoughts, but his mind felt clear, clearer than it had in millenia. Old holes in his memories slowly filling in, older emotions beginning to move again, a laser focus that had been scattered steadily lining itself back up. What was the difference? What had changed?

A vicious grin stretched across his face, his fangs bared in anticipation. It hardly mattered, what mattered was that he was going to thoroughly enjoy tearing that accursed Mask from Takua’s face. Maybe he’d even get to gouge out the presumptuous Toa’s eyes with it, who knew?

______

Luna woke with a start, her gaze flicking around her darkened room. Her shadow gathered close, roiling and snapping at the air around her, agitated, hungry. She took a deep breath and sent a feeling of calm out to it, the dark sparkled with stars for a moment before retreating back from whence it came, still itching to act, but reassured for the moment.

Stepping out from under her sheets she shook her head, it had been long months since that had happened last, not since she vanquished the Tantabus had her shadows been so distressed. Her gaze narrowed as her eyes flicked to the door, some foul thing had happened, Celestia and Twilight would need to be informed afore she investigated.

She shook out her mane, letting the star studded miasma of it settle proper about her neck as she called her crown and yolk towards herself. Setting those in place she stepped into her shoes and schooled her expression, grim with the importance of her purpose but devoid of the hunger- nay, vengeance, she realized with a sickening drop in her gut- the dark was still whispering into her heart.

She opened the door to find herself locking eyes with one who was practically singing out for that revenge with his gaze. She almost stepped back in surprise as Vamprah’s sightless eyes boiled with fury before her, but she was able to hold firm. Vamprah was a predator, first and foremost; it wouldn’t do to show weakness if he was truly as taken with frenzy as he seemed.

He turned his back to her and she noticed with a considering hum that she couldn’t feel him. Normally standing next to Vamprah filled one with an intense feeling of being observed, yet now, with rage settled into his heart, the air felt no different than normal. Had he shut himself away, as he had when she inquired about his Sister? Or was he simply capable of masking his psychic presence? She heard him scoff quietly, the second then.

Vamprah nodded towards the stairs, moving with utmost confidence she would follow. She narrowed her eyes and planted her hooves; she knew he meant her no insult, but he wasn’t about to explain himself, and he needed to know she could not simply be called to heel, especially on missions of retribution.

He froze and turned back to her, his fangs bared. She stood firm, watching him carefully. They stood at an impasse for a long moment, his rage evident in his expression even if he wasn’t letting her feel the reach of his mind in that moment. His crimson eyes blazed brighter and she finally felt him, he slammed against her mind in a tide, she felt the same anger and ravenous vengeance she expected driving heat through her blood, her wings flaring on instinct. He pressed the full weight of his mind on her, intending she yield to him through the strength of his conviction alone.

Yet it was dull, toothless, she let it wash over her to see beneath. She recognized the desperation lying below, the cold emptiness it was being stretched to patch over. This rage, faded though it was, was dear to him, something precious he intended to cultivate. If she did not dissuade him from it now, he would gladly let it consume him.

She pressed back, her horn glowing and her teeth gritting at the effort. Even with the strange dulling of his emotion she could only just bear the weight of his mind, attempting to lift it from her own was like trying to part a mountain range. He was practiced in this.

She heard a shout from one of her guards, some trance seemingly lifted now that Vamprah’s attention was entirely on her.

“I cannot march to war for you,” she said, not letting him press her back down, though his mind pulsed with irritation. “And you would not have come to me if you had the strength to stand alone.” He snarled silently, “but you know this.”

She took a step towards him, he shook his head as the anger dulled further for a moment. The two guards by her door stepped forwards, weapons trained on Vamprah. His eyes flickered flamelike for a moment and she felt his concentration break as the two of them slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Sloppy, she thought to herself, pressing the advantage to heave Vamprah’s mind out of her own. The anger flared, losing the washed out feeling it carried for a moment. “This fury has deafened you, Noble Makuta.” She took another step, this time Vamprah stepped back in response, “heed the word of one who has succumbed before, if you allow anger to command your heart, naught but ruin shall await you.”

His expression slipped, the snarl wavering, fear flashing through his eyes and mind as she felt the same cold as he settle into her chest. If not this, than what? She brushed the thought aside, “let me show you, Vamprah, you needn’t relinquish it all at once, but there art few less sturdy pillars than rage.” She took another step, within hoof’s reach, now, “treat me as ally, not tool or stranger, and we shall find one for you together.”

The cold stilled, still sitting in the pit of their entangled minds, but its teeth held at bay for the moment. Something shifted, by the breadth of a hair, but shifted nonetheless. Something like lightning pulsed through him and Vamprah conceded, his head bowing as his mind pulled away. Luna almost stumbled forwards at his weight suddenly lifting from her. The feeling of being watched returned as he brushed across her mind in a parting message.

As you wish, Kraahkan Luna. He bowed low and his eyes flickered like flame once more, her guards beginning to stir. He remained bowed in apology as they rose.

Kraahkan? Luna crooked an eyebrow and shook her head slightly, that would likely be a question for another time; it seemed a title of some respect at any rate.

“Worry not,” Luna said to the guards as they glanced warily at the bowed Makuta, “he was taken by a fury, but it has been quelled.” She allowed them back to their posts, “now Vamprah, what hast stirred your ire so?” He rose and nodded towards the stairs, waiting for her this time. Now he was prepared for his actions to be seen true, and so she followed.

It didn’t take long for them to find Twilight, or for her to explain the situation. Luna spared a glance over to Vamprah, taking careful note of how his expression tightened slightly when she mentioned this Takua. A worry had settled into her gut when he’d come for her, but now there were more than the Makuta at risk. She may have to join this battle after all. It was all she could do not to sigh, circumstances conspired to make a liar of her, how unpleasant.

That was without considering Tempest’s involvement. Her regard for the general could best be described as begrudging. She would be a hypocrite not to forgive Tempest her actions, but to be defeated so soundly, on the retreat no less, was still a sensitive mark on her pride. She allowed herself a slight grin, perhaps being a member of the party to rescue Tempest would even the score.

Celestia’s political mask slipped by the barest hair when Luna and Twilight entered from the side of the parliament chamber. Luna stayed back in the doorway as Twilight approached her sister and whispered the news in her ear. Celestia’s face remained impassive through it, but Luna saw the slight twitch in her feathers.

“I apologize, Ministers, but something has come up that demands my immediate attention, I will return as soon as I can.” She stood as Twilight hurried back to the doorway, making her own leisurely way over to Luna. “My office, or a different room?”

“Your personal office seems the best for a measure of privacy, sister.” Luna nodded, turning to head down the hall. Once they arrived Luna gestured for Vamprah to join the guards outside the room in their vigil, he obeyed with only a slight narrowing of his eyes, taking a perch above the door. Closing it and casting a silencing spell, Luna turned back to the others.

“So,” Celestia began, her expression furrowed in consideration, “the Makuta have been discovered?”

“I’m actually not sure,” Twilight said, her horn lighting as she projected an image of the creature she had described attacking Tempest. “This is apparently a Toa named Takua, a Toa of Light created specifically to combat the Makuta, but the Makuta were confused by the methods Tempest described him using. Apparently it’s not the Toa’s “style,” and the person who he arrived with, something called a Skakdi, isn’t the sort of company he’d normally keep.”

“The result being the Makuta are as confused by this as we?” Luna asked, Twilight nodded.

“Also, when he noticed Tempest putting out a call he didn’t make any demands, he didn’t even try to see if the Makuta were on the other end, he just destroyed the spell.” Twilight paused, “he said something to Tempest in the Makuta’s language before he noticed us listening, Antroz translated it as “surrender now.”” Celestia’s brow twitched.

“Then this isn’t a retrieval mission for the Makuta, this is an invasion.” She said grimly, “whoever this Takua is currently serving wants to gain a foothold without us hearing about it. A base of operation where they can dig themselves in and attack us at their leisure.” Luna felt her own expression twisting.

“There is more here, it seems both the Makuta and we are missing a piece.” She said, beginning to pace, “Vamprah came to me in a rage, his Sister was taken from him during the mission that landed the Makuta here; I suspect this Takua is the one who stole her away, from his reaction.” She shook her head, “yet from what we have learned of the Toa and their allies, what little information the Makuta will give us paints them as a reactive force. They fashion themselves guardians. E’en if what they guard is flawed I cannot see such a force spearheading an invasion, especially in such an underhoofed manner.”

“Chirox and Antroz have made them out to be more shout it from the rooftop types,” Celestia conceded, tapping a hoof on the floor. “Twilight, do you have a plan already?”

“I do,” Twilight nodded, “I intend to take a small team and investigate. If possible, I’d like to see if we can rescue the people abducted by the Skakdi, but mostly right now we just need to figure out what we’re up against. The Makuta have agreed to help, but I don’t want to do anything without hearing your advice.”

“I shall join you,” Luna said firmly, “I can aid in both reconnaissance and cover a retreat should it become necessary.” Celestia threw Luna a concerned look but said nothing, Luna gave her sister a reassuring smile. “Vamprah seems uninclined to leave my side at any rate, and his skills should also be quite useful in this.” Celestia’s expression softened, having caught Luna’s meaning, she would hardly be going unprotected.

“Then it is decided?” Celestia asked, looking between the two of them. Twilight glanced over to Luna, who nodded, she had no intent to be left behind.

“Yes, Princess Celestia,” Twilight nodded.

Author's Note

Hello there, sorry for the long wait. I've successfully moved into the new place and am ready to get writing again.

However, my new job has a much more demanding schedule than the last one, so for the foreseeable future, instead of updating once a week I think I'll have to push it back to once every other week.

I apologize and thank you for your patience. ^_^

Act I: Hunger: Victory

“We were supposed to keep quiet during the night,” Gorast grumbled at Antroz, her eyes twitching across the train they were boarding. The moon above cast everything in long, consuming shadows. The very air was invigorating out under the night sky here, it suffused her senses and set her muscles thrumming in a way that threatened to bring a smile to her face. By Mata Nui, could nothing the Night Princess touched just be unpleasant for her?

“We don’t have time to worry about that right now,” Antroz huffed, “we still have control of the narrative, but if Takua gets his head on straight before we get to him we could lose that.” He ducked through the door, “we were still the “good guys” in the war to these people, keeping that status is worth risking Luna’s influence for one night.” Gorast wanted to snap at him, but he was the strategist, she knew she was the bruiser more than anything else, she wouldn’t have any counterpoints he hadn’t thought of.

Instead Gorast threw Mutran a glare, expecting him to be delighted by Antroz’ scolding, but he was hardly paying her any kind of attention. She stepped aside as he boarded the train, the manic glint in his eyes more dangerous than his claws could ever hope to be. Best not to bother him when he was in that kind of mood. She settled for just growling to herself, letting her mind wander to Krika to put a proper edge back into her mood. She felt her body clenching back up and nodded to herself, grinding her teeth as she stepped onto the train.

Antroz took a seat along one of the walls and Mutran took the one across from him, Gorast just leaned back against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

Antroz let out an irritated noise, “Gorast, sit down.”

“I am,” she snapped back at him.

“No you’re not, I can hear your teeth from here.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the spot across from him next to Mutran. Gorast stopped grinding her teeth but didn’t move. “You can pretend to sleep through the ride if you want to avoid being talked to that badly.”

Gorast snarled at him and Antroz’ expression shifted from one of mild irritation to outright annoyance. “What is your problem?”

“She’s spent longer than any of us around Teridax,” Mutran drawled, having come back to the present at some point Gorast hadn’t been paying enough attention to pin down. “You know how much she dotes on him, and Luna gives off such a pleasing variant of his aura.” He chuckled mockingly at Gorast testing the joints on her arms in threat. “She’s worried for her conviction, standing next to Luna must feel like a dream come true,” he inspected his claws, a smug grin across his face, “a Teridax who actually wants to listen to her ramble.” That spark flared in Gorast’s chest again, a purple haze filling her vision.

Gorast and Antroz were in motion in the same moment, Gorast pouncing for Mutran’s mask and Antroz jumping up to wrap an arm around her throat. She gagged and flailed at Mutran, hanging from Antroz’ arm by her neck. The pressure of his arm sent a sickening ache shooting up her neck to her head as she clawed at it, her feet unable to reach the ground thanks to Antroz’ considerable height advantage. Mutran cackled at the display, the mad sparking of his eyes taunting her.

“You!” Antroz pointed at him with his free arm, making Mutran jump slightly in surprise. “Shut it, she’s working herself up enough, we don’t need your help to make this a disaster.” Antroz hauled Gorast back down onto one of the seats, “and you, you’re going to wear yourself out before we even get there. Stop trying to tick yourself off, save it for Takua, he’s plenty infuriating without your help.”

Gorast snapped her teeth at him, “you know better than this, Gorast. He’s just trying to get under your armour cause he’s excited and you made yourself a nice target.” Embarrassment flashed hot through her, smothering out the spark as she stopped clawing at his arms, she did know better than this. Antroz let out a long suffering sigh and let go, setting himself down next to her.

“...I’m not apologizing,” Gorast muttered after a moment. Antroz ran a hand down his mask.

“If you don’t get your act together in the next hour I will throw you from this train and you can wait with Krika and Chirox,” he snipped, “see how you enjoy that. Mutran!” He barked, snapping Mutran’s attention back to them. “Apologize for twisting her up.”

“Sorry,” Mutran blinked, the gleam in his eyes dulling slightly, “I wasn’t really paying attention.” Antroz gestured towards him, throwing Gorast an expectant look. Gorast growled and rolled her eyes.

“...Sorry for trying to tear open your head.” Mutran blinked at her again but nodded. Gorast’s throat began to itch slightly but she ignored it, it would stop in a moment and she had more important things to think about.

Antroz had a point and she hated it, she was better than this. She felt her gut twisting, that moment of hope she’d felt earlier. It had only been a moment, but she’d been so sure that Teridax had come for them, come for her; then the curtain pulled back, and a bit more of her world crumbled around her.

And in the ruins, she’d seen him on a day she’d tried to forget.

She shook her head, she felt abandoned, used up and tossed aside, but she had no proof of it. It was irrational, there were a thousand reasons Teridax might not have saved them, no matter what the others thought. He wouldn’t have just left her there if he had any choice; but knowing that didn’t stop her from feeling like a piece of her had been ripped out, didn’t stop her from thinking back to the contemptuous stare she didn’t want to remember.

Her gaze hardened. Then there was this damn Luna, so soft and welcoming, throwing around her influence like she’d never had to be wary of it before, like she could swoop in and make everything alright again. In so many ways Teridax’ opposite, yet with power that had her playing at being his equal in Gorast’s mind. She hated it, she wanted to hate it so badly, she didn’t need Luna, she didn’t need a new Kraahkan.

Yet there was a piece of her, old and hoarse but almost unbearably loud, that craved it. She pushed down on it, shouting away the doubt it tried to sow in her. She hadn’t been betrayed, he wouldn’t, he’d promised.

The door on the far end of the car opened, drawing Gorast’s glare as she felt Luna’s presence wash through their compartment. Luna’s eyes flashed with surprise as she met Gorast’s stare, but she was able to press through. Gorast leaned back on her seat and made a show of looking over her shoulder out the window behind her.

Luna hesitated for a moment in front of her and Gorast let her eyes flick to her. Luna’s gaze was soft, caught somewhere between curious and concerned.

“What has happened to your neck?” Gorast crooked her eyebrow, one of her hands going up to her throat. Pressing gently she felt around it, she contained a wince as she felt a swollen lump around where Antroz had grabbed her, sending the same throbbing ache up through her head as before. She felt Antroz stiffen slightly next to her.

She silently cursed the Mutagen that had smothered the swamps of Karda Nui for chaining her to physicality again. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d been bruised, forgetting for a moment that she no longer had access to the ability that would allow her to heal something that trivial with hardly a thought.

“I did something foolish,” she growled, “don’t concern yourself.” Luna’s eyes flicked to her brothers then back to her, hard with a question. Gorast narrowed her eyes in return and slowly shook her head. “I jumped, Antroz caught me, we both forgot I have to worry about this.” She gestured back to her throat, the organic components throbbing an angry green between her black armoured plates. “If it had been on purpose, I’d have torn him open like a tin can.”

“Ah,” Luna nodded in understanding, “shall it hamper your ability in the coming battle?”

“What do you take me for?” Gorast scoffed, “I’ve been drowned, immolated and buried alive and I kept fighting. A bruise is nothing.” She narrowed her eyes further and bared her teeth, sending a silent message of her own, she didn’t need Luna’s concern or her help. Luna nodded at her, a strange sort of respect flashing in her eyes as she turned to continue up the train, Vamprah trailing silently in her wake. Gorast jumped slightly at his appearance, the itch in her throat flaring dangerously.

“My offer stands,” Luna shot over her shoulder, “I’ll be only two compartments fore.”

Gorast was only able to contain the itch until the door on the other end of the car closed behind them, then the long forgotten and entirely unpleasant sensation of a coughing fit took her. For a few moments it felt like her throat was attempting to escape through her eye sockets, her claws clasped over her mouth.

When it finished and she steadily got to remember the other two Makuta near her she noticed they’d both reeled back from her. She probably looked a mess, a hideous reminder of the weaknesses they’d once had. She wanted to shout at them, snarl and snap until they knew better than to think her weak, but her throat was already enough of a mess right now. She shook an unpleasant amount of mucus from her hands as she stood. Stalking over to Mutran she hunched over him and pointed to her throat.

“Fix this,” she commanded hoarsely. The look in her eyes must have been vicious if the way Mutran jumped was any indication. His eyes flashed blue as he carefully brought up a hand and pressed it to her throat, she felt her flesh weaving itself back together under her armour and let out a grateful sigh. “Thanks,” she said, moving back to her seat.

“Offer?” Antroz asked, crooking an eyebrow at her.

“She’s still on about hearing about my titles,” Gorast shot back, crossing her arms. Antroz made a disinterested sound and settled back in his seat as Gorast let her mind wander for a few minutes.

Gorast’s expression twitched and she glanced sidelong at Antroz as an idea began to form. They needed to keep control of the narrative; Antroz hadn’t lied about anything yet, just inflated the importance of certain events while downplaying others, but he’d been light on the details. She knew she’d be getting suspicious if someone did that to her.

She felt a grin stretching across her face and shook her head, schooling it into a more grim expression, her brow furrowed and her mouth in a firm line. Antroz was a great strategist but he worked in broad strokes, never specifics. Specifics broke down on contact with the enemy, but they were exactly what they needed now to seal the deal, and if there was one thing she had in abundance it was stories.

If she got to prove herself by spending half the ride or more directly in front of Luna and then walking away without a second glance, that was just a bonus.

She rose and started making her way to the door on the front end of the compartment.

“Where are you going?” Antroz growled as she opened the door.

“To secure the narrative,” she snarled in response, ducking through before he could say anything more.

______

Luna set herself down beside Princess Twilight, across from Captain Frigid Wind, Vamprah stood in the aisle, seemingly content to wait. She gave each of them a firm nod, smiling slightly to herself as she saw the Captain bow deep enough that it nearly wrested him from his seat.

“Rise, good Captain,” Luna chuckled, “we may ride to battle. I would do well to regard you as adviser instead of subordinate on this night, as would you.” Frigid Wind sat straight in his seat again. “Hath there been any developments since the call which summoned us?”

“No, not yet,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “There weren’t many guards in the area to begin with, and we haven’t been able to contact the ones who were.”

“We already thought this,” Frigid began carefully, “but the fact that they didn’t answer probably means they were captured with everyone else.”

“Confirmation of suspicion is useful as new information when one knows little of a situation.” Luna gestured for Vamprah to settle next to Frigid Wind, “sit, noble Makuta, we must be rested when we arrive.”

As Vamprah obeyed she turned to Twilight, “you took rest afore we left as I advised?”

“It was already afternoon when Tempest called me,” Twilight said, rubbing the back of her head nervously, “so it was only a quick nap, but yeah.”

“So long as you are primed it shall be enough,” Luna nodded, “and what of you, Captain?” He blinked in surprise but nodded.

“I had the night shift tonight anyways.” He grinned sardonically, “ready as I’ll ever be to fight a mechanical hulk.” Luna let out a quick chortle at that.

“This Takua is rather different than what you hath been trained for, I will admit.” She allowed herself a moment to let her mood sober, “the surrounding area ist primarily tundra?”

“There is a small group of recently planted conifers nearby,” Frigid said with a nod. “We built the guard station in part to oversee their growth, but yes, beyond that it’s mostly flat ground.”

Luna turned to Twilight, who jumped slightly. Luna cocked her head as the obvious presented itself unexpectedly. This would be Twilight’s first organized campaign, each other time she found herself engrossed in combat it had been chaotic, a matter of ambush or lone stands. It should have been expected that Twilight would feel out of place here, yet Luna found herself taken aback by her own surprise. As the more experienced party, soothing her junior’s troubled thoughts fell to her.

“Peace, Twilight,” she spoke with as comforting a smile as she could muster, “we old warhorses simply prepare for the worst as matter of habit, we leave it to you to guide us along the best.” Twilight nodded, her posture straightening. Luna always marvelled at how quickly Celestia’s protege recovered from moments of self doubt with but the slightest assurance. Her sister and fate had chosen well their champion.

“The terrain doesn’t give us many options for approaching unnoticed,” Twilight started, “which is probably why they picked it; but that’s alright, because the plan was always to try and talk to them first, right?” She glanced to Luna and Frigid Wind, both of whom nodded in response. “Not much point in sneaking around if they already know we’re here.”

Her expression collapsed a little, as if she was shamed something had passed through her mind. “However, it would be best to approach from the side away from the trees and have some of us take a longer path around to reach them while remaining out of sight.” Luna nodded as understanding bloomed behind her eyes. “That way if negotiations break down we’ll have a base of operations already secured, and they’ll be expecting us from the other direction. It won’t be much of a surprise advantage, but it’ll be one.”

“Excellent work, Twilight,” Luna grinned at her, “we’ll make a politician of you yet.” At Twilight’s wince she gave her a firm pat on the back, “I jest, I jest; a method of retreat to better ground is simply good sense. One should ne’er enter a conflict without, whether they be encounters of word or blade.”

They discussed what routes to take from the sparse patch of forest to the town itself for a minute longer, but with as little information as they had it quickly devolved into retreading ground already settled. Luna was rather grateful for the interruption of the compartment door all but slamming open.

Twilight and Frigid both jumped like startled cats, turning to face the door with horns alight. Luna couldn’t help the grin that settled onto her face as she turned to face Gorast, who had grabbed the door on the way back closed and was testing it to ensure she hadn’t broken anything. Luna waved a wing for Frigid Wind to stand down, Twilight having dismissed the magic she’d been gathering once she’d seen who it was. He threw her a cautious glance, to which she simply nodded.

“Lady Gorast of the North, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Luna asked, Gorast standing straighter to attention in response, either content with or resolving to ignore any possible damage to the door.

“It’s… tradition in many places in Mata Nui to share stories before a conflict.” Gorast replied, though she spat the word tradition like a curse, stepping closer until she was standing just in front of Vamprah. “So that everyone knows they can rely on their ally’s skill in battle.”

“Ah,” Luna couldn’t help the way her expression lit up, if Gorast was finally willing to talk with her this was promising to be a momentous occasion indeed. “A grand pastime, it’s been far too long since last I partook.” Lighting her horn she conjured a cushion of adequate size for Gorast to sit upon behind her. “Sit if you art spin us a tale, center stage ist yours.”

“I didn’t realize there’d be this much of an audience,” she grumbled, but sat down nonetheless. “I thought it would just be you, Luna.” Luna waved her off.

“What use is sharing great deeds between just us two? Captain Frigid Wind and Princess Twilight Sparkle can spread them farther than just I.” She clapped her hooves, unable to quite contain her excitement, though the display seemed curious to Gorast. Gorast’s gaze flitted to the other two ponies in the room, who each nodded their assent.

“I suppose,” Gorast sat up straighter, a pride catching in her eyes and the set of her shoulders, “you wanted to hear the stories behind my titles?”

“One in particular has captured my imagination,” Luna spoke eagerly, her wings shivering at her sides. “You claimed yourself Vanquisher of Kalmah of the Six Kingdoms; your other titles describe places or armies, Tren Krom Peninsula, Abomination’s Caravan, Visorak Horde, this names a person. How was it you found yourself against such a formidable foe?” Gorast cocked her head, obviously surprised by just how much Luna had anticipated this discussion.

“The Six Kingdoms,” Gorast began, pride and memory quickly overtaking her surprise, “were a coalition of lands under the control of six Warlords calling themselves the Barraki.” She lifted her arms, the two separating into four so she could more emphatically gesture. “After we Makuta began to stabilize Mata Nui’s ecosystem many beings found they had the power to command the Rahi we created. Most used this ability for simple things, labour, agriculture and the like, but the Barraki saw an opportunity. Gathering armies of our grander Rahi and the savage Zyglak they separately began campaigns of conquest across Mata Nui.

“At first,” Gorast brought up one of her upper arms, her wings buzzing, “we saw no reason to interfere, each of the Barraki was power hungry and territorial; though the Toa were duty-bound to defend their lands against them, we Makuta believed that once they encountered each other they would make war on each other, eventually destroying themselves.”

She clenched the raised hand into a fist, “we were wrong. Instead of turning on one another they allied together, creating a force too great for the Toa and their allies to hold at bay. So, for the first time, they called upon us. Many Makuta answered the call, myself among them. Led by our old leader Miserix we were assigned to different Barraki.

“There was Pridak: the Unifier, a being of savage power who led his forces from the front,” she planted her fists together with a clang, “he had swayed the others to his cause by force of his unwavering resolve and absolute conviction that together they could rule over all. Antroz was given an army of Toa and a small force of Makuta to meet him in open battle on the front lines of the war.”

Drawing her four hands apart they crackled with electricity as her eyes flashed blue and yellow and she held Luna at rapt attention. “Ehlek: the Terror, a beast of rampant hatred; schooled on the failed Zyglak’s fury against the Matoran who had usurped them as custodians of Mata Nui’s functions, and adept in steady wars of attrition, which he used to sow fear and obedience through slaughter. Chirox led a force against him, shoring up defenses in Matoran settlements and cities.

“Takadox: the Whispering Madness, a cowardly mastermind with an army of slaves who sought to rule all from the shadows through a powerful ability of mind control.” Her eyes blazed red, “with a single stare he could dismantle chains of command, counter subterfuge and sow treachery among all but the most steadfast of souls. None were to know who moved against him, though we all had our suspicions and they were ultimately successful.

“Next was Mantax: the Silent, secretive and crafty,” Gorast spread her arms and the darkness answered her call, rising with a quiet growl to shroud itself across her like a cloak. “He waged war in bursts, armies whittled away by his lightning fast hit and run tactics, he severed and raided his enemies’ chains of supply and communications, once a force went quiet, you knew Mantax had struck. Makuta Bitil led a force in safeguarding supply caravans, hoping for the opportunity to engage Mantax in open combat.”

She lowered her arms, the shadows falling back away from her. “Carapar: the Crusher, a ruthless commander who took no prisoners other than the stones of the fortresses he claimed. At the head of an army of siege machines he would claim and hold important ports, passes and halfway forts through sheer strength. Though he was no fool, it was after he feigned surrender to poison the force resisting him that the Toa realized they could no more stop the Barraki than they could prevent the suns from rising. Krika was given a large force of Makuta and Toa together in order to break his stride.”

She chuckled darkly, “but for all our combined might and plans there was one who could guide the Barraki to victory against any odds. Kalmah: the Strategist. Beyond cunning with the power to match he knew the strengths and weaknesses of all his allies by heart, skillfully leveraging each to ensure there was never a misstep in the Barraki’s march to ultimate power.

“Where Carapar, Ehlek and Pridak were powerful but often reckless, leading from the head of their forces and shouting of their triumphs;” Gorast’s posture straightened out to an almost regal profile. “Kalmah was careful and measured, rarely bragging and watching his forces from above, only interfering if he deemed it necessary. He reigned in the tempers and ambitions of those three great Warlords to keep them aimed true, preventing losses that would have crushed their campaign.

“Where Mantax and Takadox were cunning but often fearful, lacking the resolve to take risks that would benefit their cause in the long run; Kalmah was steady and sure, there have been perhaps two others in our history who could match his absolute conviction that he had the skill, power, and Destiny to reign supreme over all.” She pounded her right pair of clenched fists against her chest, “he bolstered their courage, guiding them to victories they would never have dreamed to reach on their own.”

Gorast’s eyes burned with remembered determination. “He was my foe. The warriors of the Vortixx have a saying in my home, leaders are judged by the quality of their enemies, and if that is true then I have every right to be legendary for my clash with Kalmah.

“I was granted a small but elite force of experienced Toa and instructed to wage a guerrilla war against him to cut off his messengers to the other Barraki. The hope was to keep the Barraki from properly coordinating, leaving them vulnerable to counterattack from the other forces.

“At first this proved difficult, as Kalmah had the wherewithal to create secret ways for his heralds to travel, but steadily my Toa and I were able to root them out. We mapped the networks of tunnels he had constructed and captured a few messengers to learn the overland routes they had in reserve. By the end of the campaign season we were ready to begin in earnest.”

She let out a humorless chuckle, “of course, Miserix was furious with my lack of measurable progress. While I had been mapping the region, Carapar had begun knocking on my homeland of Destral’s doors. I promised him results once the next series of campaigns began, and I delivered.

“That second season we were able to force him into a complete blackout, intercepting every messenger he sent not without struggle, but handily. We collapsed his tunnels, hunted down his heralds, and ensured he never heard a whisper of what was happening.”

She snapped her teeth in a sharp grin, “from what I’ve been told it was chaos, without a clear plan each of the Barraki simply did as they saw fit in destructive but ultimately fruitless ways. Miserix and Krika took credit for being the first to properly break through one of Carapar’s sieges, but if Kalmah had still been able to advise him it would have been a much harder won victory.”

Gorast’s savage smile twitched slightly, “of course, Pridak was even more furious with Kalmah than Miserix had been with me. For the first time since the war began, he left the front line to pay Kalmah a visit. Drunk on my early successes I sent a spy into Kalmah’s fortress to report on the meeting; I’d thought Kalmah being clueless about what we’d done would make him look like a traitor trying to save his hide, instead it lit a fury in him unlike any I’ve ever seen.”

She clenched her fists, “most people’s anger burns hot, makes them lash out, Kalmah’s rage burned so cold that Pridak himself was cowed. Kalmah was the sort who wouldn’t tell you he was angry, he didn’t shout, he wouldn’t become reckless or hateful, you would just know; it made my spy flee the moment he felt it, and when we finally met on the battlefield I could hardly move under the weight of his rage.”

Her hands released, “but that was far off; at the time I’d already known Kalmah maintained a calm facade at all times and I took the fact that it had broken even the slightest as another victory.”

Her face became grim, “and in my arrogance I didn’t adjust my plans to take into account what that anger would mean for his own. I had expected him to set his sights on us, try to attack us directly. I had a plan for that. I expected him to give his messengers better protection so they could break through our lines, I had plans for that.

“What I hadn’t expected was the kind of trap he laid for us. He scattered his messengers to the wind, spreading them too far for us to intercept them all if we remained together as we had. I split our parties, spreading us thin in an attempt to capture as many as I could, and in doing so, fell right into his trap.”

She raised a hand as if cupping something delicate, “the next wave of messengers I thought we were ready for them, I’d cast our net wider than it had ever been, a force of two hundred spread out into groups of two. That was when he bolstered his defenses. What I thought would be difficult but manageable skirmishes became a rout across the entire island, my Toa crushed and swept aside by Kalmah’s army.”

She clenched the raised hand and her teeth in the same moment, making a sound like breaking glass. “That was my first taste of casualties. Most of the Toa had the good sense to retreat when they saw the battles were moving against them, but some were injured, and in those cases their partners stayed behind, held the way while they escaped.

“I was young, my head was filled with dreams of heroism and honor.” She waved her hands dismissively as she spoke, but the fire still in her eyes spoke to her continued belief in such ideals. “Toa never killed, none of the messengers we had captured had been killed, merely imprisoned. So when they told me what had happened I thought to propose a trade, Kalmah’s lost messengers for the Toa I was sure he had captured as similar leverage. I was wrong.

“I went to the places the Toa had given cover to their allies, expecting to find Kalmah’s agents ready to make a deal. Instead I found my Toa, their bodies broken, their Kanohi shattered, left for the scavengers in the dirt. Kalmah had crushed them and cast them aside. Fifty Toa gone, without a trace of respect or honor.”

She ground her teeth, “to my shame I wasn’t angry, I didn’t vow vengeance or pledge myself to protect the rest of my subordinates in that moment. I was ashamed that my orders had sent those Toa to such fates, but mostly I was… terrified that it might happen again. That next time, perhaps it would even be me lying there, dead in the mud.”

She stopped for a long moment, tensing and relaxing, her face contorted as she seemed to wrestle with herself. “I wanted to give up, to give command to someone else, anything if it meant I wouldn’t have to see what he had in store for us after that.”

She paused again and took a deep breath, “yet, those Toa that remained looked to the future, not at what this battle had cost them. They looked to me, I had led them to flawless victory last time. To see them, ready to follow me after such a devastating loss, it lit a fire in me; I swore I would never let something like that happen to them again.” She let out a dry chuckle. “They told me not to make promises.”

She shook her head, “I reworked our strategies. We were far stronger together, focused, separated we were easy pickings for Kalmah’s bolstered guard. We became more choosy with our targets. Despite Miserix’ ravings whenever he lost a battle we didn’t need to stop them all, just the ones we were sure held the most strategic importance. We kept in close touch with other forces so we would know when and where pivotal events were happening, figured out how to time when Kalmah’s most important messages would be sent out and began putting the pressure back on him.”

Her smile began to come back, softer this time, fond remembrance sparkling behind her eyes, “for years we worked at our mission, spent long days and nights revelling in our victories and mourning our losses, and changed the course of battles across the world with a few well snatched messengers.”

Gorast spoke at length, describing the harrowing battles she had led against Kalmah during those years. Her movements sweeping and excited she lauded the Toa’s quick thinking, wove tapestries of her own moments of heroism, told of last minute escapes, successful schemes, of Kalmah’s generals slain by her hand in retribution for the fallen Toa, and valiant stands to secure invaluable advantages for her allies on other fronts of the war. In the corner of her eye Luna could see Twilight taking notes, more information on the Toa’s physical capabilities than any of them had been able to pry out of the Makuta before spun into the tale Gorast weaved.

Through it all Gorast’s wide, fanged grin was genuine; the excitement, the nostalgia in her voice and expression plain to see, and it all centered on those Toa, her old allies. The longer she spoke, the more convinced Luna became that beneath the rage and savage posturing, Gorast had been, perhaps still was, a being who cherished Loyalty above all else. “Together we were able to overcome any guard he stationed along his routes, defeat any of the beasts he sent to root us out. In those years the Toa I led became more than subordinates, they were My Toa, we were Hagah, Pactsworn. My Brothers... and Sisters...”

Her smile slipped away, her shoulders trembling with some restrained emotion; Luna caught her gaze, a deep resentment burning from Gorast for a long moment. “I... usually skip that part,” Gorast coughed, her movements becoming more sedate. “After a particularly successful season- Carapar failed another siege, Mantax was pushed out of a region, and Ehlek was forced to narrowly escape capture thanks to the messages we intercepted- Kalmah’s rage was so great that he unleashed every messenger he had. A veritable flood of underlings ran rampant across the island, the chaos was so great that we had trouble managing to capture any of them.

“Those we did all carried the same orders, “hold position.”” Her grin turned vicious again, the mask of savagery slipping back into place. “We had become too annoying to ignore any longer. Kalmah was going to deal with us personally.

“I contacted Miserix with the news, pleading for more forces so that I could march out to meet Kalmah in a proper battle. Miserix refused, where I saw an opportunity to take off the most dangerous head of the beast that was the Six Kingdoms, he saw a chance to declaw them entirely. He gave me a new mission, survive as long as possible, help would come once the other Barraki were dealt with.”

She clicked her tongue, “there was a wisdom in his plan, the other five would still run rampant without Kalmah to direct their efforts and while Kalmah was formidable his true strength was in how effectively he directed the other five. If they had been given orders to stay where they were it presented the greatest opportunity we’d had the entire war to take the fight back to them, to press an offensive where before we’d been running damage control.

“But, as I said, I was young, and I felt I’d already spent too long running and hiding from Kalmah, so I defied him. Luckily I was no fool, I knew I couldn’t defeat Kalmah in open combat. I made a plan and led my Toa in harrying the forces Kalmah sent to find us, whittling down his armies until I was sure Kalmah himself would make his move.

“For all our work, for all our skill and strength, I noticed a pattern begin to emerge.” She snorted, “each time Kalmah’s forces began to close in there was always a weak point, a route of escape we could push through, but each of them took us farther from Kalmah’s fortress. He wasn’t trying to defeat us in these skirmishes, he was herding us into position with our backs against the mountain on the far western side of the island. It was there he would try to crush us.”

Her grin turned sly, “but this time, I believed I had outplayed him. I had known he would try to force us into a corner there, and so I’d sent ahead five of my Toa Hagah, three of Stone and two of Earth, to dig a tunnel through the mountain for us to retreat through when I had first arrived on the island.”

The grin fell, “again, I fell right into his trap. He’d known about the tunnel, and when we tried to escape through it he waited until we were deep within the mountain with no other ways out than through and sent swarms of his forces in after us from both sides, bottling us up inside.

“The battle was long and grueling, I don’t know how familiar you are with fighting underground, but every step is a struggle, and your abilities are restrained for fear of bringing a mountain down on your head. It became a task of endurance, I was sure I could survive, but I could hardly abandon them, and for Toa, a battle of attrition is certain death.” She shook her head, “they are duty bound never to kill, only subdue, only capture, and underground even in that they’re hobbled. The Toa of physical abilities couldn’t properly capture their targets, each one they did was less room to maneuver, the Toa of destructive powers couldn’t unleash their might to properly subdue their opponents without risking being buried in the result. So Kalmah only had to wait and retrieve his fallen, eventually those we subdued would be on their feet again; as his force inside swelled with newly rested and those emboldened by their survival, mine began to tire and panic.”

She took a deep breath, “I gave an order to my Toa of Stone and Earth, seal us off from the rest of the tunnel, to buy me time to convince them to follow a different order. Kalmah had planned his assault based on one fact he thought immutable, a weakness of the Toa that made them contemptible in his eyes. So, to win the day, I needed to convince my Toa to shed that weakness, to strike without mercy or hesitation. If we were to survive, if my Hagah, my… Siblings, were to live, they would need to take life.”

Gorast drew herself tall, her gaze daring them to say something, perhaps berate her for calling on those pledged not to kill to forsake that oath. Luna met her eyes steadily, war was war, as noble and good as the Toa’s oath was, there were myriad reasons Equestria preferred champions to armies, preferred diplomacy to outright battle. The right people in the right place could resolve conflict without a drop of blood spilt, the right words spoken over a table could prevent that conflict from rising in the first place. War was death, the two as inseparable as light and dark. Gorast’s gaze softened slightly, a new respect flickering in her eyes.

Luna did not look to Twilight, but she knew the conflict no doubt rushing through her mind. Twilight had known Equestria’s way her entire life, it had been challenged again and again, but each time Twilight and her friends had been able to prevail. There had been singular deaths in King Sombra and the Storm King, but never had she been forced to mete out oblivion to an army.

Gorast nodded, “they hesitated, but I pressed, I pleaded with them. Kalmah would accept no surrender and we had come too far, fought too hard, to fall then. Our allies were counting on us, if we fell then Kalmah would be able to resume control of the Six Kingdoms’ movements unimpeded. I swore to them I would take responsibility, I wouldn’t abandon them once the fight was over, it would be my orders, they were My Toa, any retribution would fall to me.”

Her breath hitched slightly, “it should have fallen to me. I convinced them, and when Kalmah’s forces broke through our barrier they were met with a force resolved. We pushed through his army, a horde of dead in our wake as we ran, and as we saw sunlight once more he was there waiting for us, Kalmah.

“His wrath pressed down on me like a weight around my neck and a chill in my core. In that moment I was certain that despite our best efforts, despite my Toa Hagah’s sacrifice of their oaths, despite my own faith in them or any strength we may have mustered, that we were going to die at his hand.

“But as I had called to my Toa before, they called to me then, and I felt my resolve return. Our last stand was vicious as we carved our way to Kalmah. A Toa unleashed is a truly awe inspiring sight, none could stand against us for longer than a moment but Kalmah himself.

“Kalmah fought with all the determination of a predator denied its kill and all the skill of a master, it was only by our devotion to one another that none were lost in that fight, many times we were forced to give up on a finishing blow to defend or rescue one of our Siblings from his fury.

“He grabbed me by my throat, thinking it could keep my voice from reaching the others, that if he could keep me from directing them for just a moment he could turn the tide.” She grinned and her eyes swirled with red and black, her voice reverberating deep and metallic, “but I can never be silenced. I loosed a Howl in his face, he reeled for a moment and that was all the opening we needed. We brought to bear every force we had at our disposal and dashed him against the mountainside. Seeing their commander fallen and my Toa unchained his Zyglak ran, and without his will directing them his Rahi calmed. Victorious, the world knew us as Hagah, Vanquishers of Kalmah.”

She chuckled, her arms weaving back together as she clenched her fists, “to this day, no punch I’ve thrown has been quite as satisfying as the one that split Kalmah’s forehead.”

“A rousing tale!” Luna belted, “if that we had good drink to make a toast with for it.”

“Um,” Twilight cleared her throat, “what happened to the Toa?” Gorast’s expression twitched, her lip curling into a snarl.

“No one else accepted my responsibility for their actions, so they were exiled for breaking their oaths.” She scoffed, “it was unfortunate, but I took them in personally and they became my honor guard. All Toa assigned to protect Makuta from that point forwards were known as Hagah.”

“No,” Twilight shook her head, her wings ruffling as she seemed to search for the words. “Where are they now?” Gorast stiffened, her shoulders rising up about her neck.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she snarled, bitterness straining in her voice.

“You were friends, and more, with them,” Twilight pressed, lost to the idea sparking behind her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gorast hissed.

“But they could help us n-”

“I said it doesn’t matter!” She rose to her feet, looming over Twilight with her teeth bared. Luna blinked, as much threat as Gorast was pouring into her glare it was soft at the edges, her arms curled on herself slightly in defense instead of ready for attack. “Don’t push me.” Gorast shook her head, her body shuddering again and her breath coming in enraged heaves.

Gorast’s eyes swept to Luna as she pulled away from Twilight, pinning Luna again with a vicious resentment as she murmured, “so I can be angry around you.” She turned and headed for the door she came from, speaking louder, “they’re not dead, and I don’t think I’ll do this again.”

“On the chance that you do,” Luna replied, gathering herself to keep her voice from wobbling with the sympathy she felt swelling in her chest, “I shall await your return nonetheless.” Gorast’s stride did not hitch, her head did not turn, but her hands clenched and her laboured breathing caught as she pushed her way through the door.

“I-” Twilight took a moment to catch her breath, her feathers and mane mussed by how firmly she’d pressed herself to the seat behind her under Gorast’s glare. “I talked faster than I listened, didn’t I?”

“Aye,” Luna nodded; turning to face her. “Twilight, I fear for her.” Twilight cocked her head.

“She’s angry, sure, but I think she’s got enough of a grip to keep her from doing anything stupid.” She said, “and the other Makuta can keep an eye on her.” She grinned a bit sheepishly, “I think.”

“Nay, ‘tis not her disposition that worries me.” Luna glanced over to Vamprah, who had the side of his mask turned placidly towards her, the ever present observation of his mind quiet, unstirred. “She treasured her Siblings, yet she spoke possessively of them. They were hers, not just to command but in essence. She covets Loyalty as an ideal, but her understanding ist… crude, foal’s play to manipulate.”

Vamprah’s head lifted, understanding spreading across his features. “The other Makuta fear betrayal by their leader, Gorast clings to a conviction that it cannot be. If my suspicions are correct, the Toa Hagah betrayed her at some point. I know not how a loyalist such as she shall react should it be revealed that betrayal has come upon her doorstep again. Especially if her devotion to this Teridax is as she imagined that of the Toa Hagah would be to her.”

______

It wasn’t much longer after Gorast left that Twilight stepped off the train into the bitter cold air of the tundra. She nodded to captain Frigid Wind, who greeted the cold with a slight grin and nodded back before moving down the length of the train to unload the other Guards who came with them so they could make their way to the green speck of trees Twilight could see on the horizon.

She felt anxiety clawing at her throat. She had more of an idea of what to expect thanks to Gorast’s impromptu story time, but until she’d seen it there were always ways for the Toa to surprise her and she still knew nothing of these Skakdi. She focused on the feeling of the paper coin tucked into her down feathers and took a deep breath, it would warm once Frigid Wind reached his destination. If worse came to worst they only had to keep whoever they were about to meet talking until he did.

Luna stepped out next to her, standing tall against the cold, her coat and feathers fluffing as she stared grimly out at the fog that blocked out all of what they could see of the town from here.

“It reminds of how Sombra’s foul influence suffused the Crystal Empire,” Luna said, her eyes narrowing as steam from her breath swirled around her snout. “An ill omen.” She turned to Twilight as Vamprah slid out of the train to stand behind her, head low and ready.

“Or them trying to make the environment more suitable for them,” Twilight responded, reeling in her nerves with the security of having Princess Luna with her. “Other than Toa of Ice, I don’t think many of them would like this kind of cold.”

As Luna hummed in consideration Twilight saw the other Makuta stepping off the train. Only Gorast showed any reaction to the cold, hesitating and shivering for a moment before her eyes began to swirl with green and yellow. Antroz and Mutran continued without acknowledging it, Antroz’ head high, wings hanging loose and stride sure with Mutran slouched beside him, hands on his hips and wings folded in close.

“We ready to go?” Antroz asked, stopping next to Twilight at a gentle poke from Mutran.

“If you are,” Twilight responded, noting how Gorast pointedly didn’t look at her. Antroz said something to Mutran in their tongue, Mutran shook his head and said something back.

“We are,” Antroz seemed to settle on, gesturing for Twilight and Luna to take the lead.

The walk there was spent in silence, the plan wasn’t especially complicated, everyone knew where to be. If things went well they could relax, but if they didn’t everyone needed to get as close to Twilight as possible.

A pit began to open up in her stomach, dread making her limbs feel heavier. It was quiet as they approached the fog bank, too quiet, even the soft rustle of the wind seemed muted near it. Twilight glanced around to see if the others noticed; Luna’s expression was stone, but her ears flicked against the air, swivelling on her head. Antroz’ expression had fallen into a placid stare, one of his hands going up to rub at the side of his mask. Vamprah’s expression was the easiest to read, a slight grin hiding his fangs. Gorast and Mutran didn’t seem to have noticed.

Twilight stopped once she began to make out the shadows of the buildings beyond the fog and raised her voice.

“Hello?” She called out into the gloom, her voice seeming smaller than she’d meant it to without the slight echos that normally bolstered sounds. There was a long moment of nothing, Gorast and Vamprah tensing where they stood, ready to react at a moment’s notice. Luna’s eyes scanned the mist and Twilight kept her gaze forwards.

The click of metal on stone broke the silence, coming through clear and reverberating despite the muffling fog almost seeming to reach out towards them. A light appeared in the mist, moving steadily closer as the clicking grew louder. As it neared the edge a shape began to appear behind it, a hunched, bipedal shadow, partially hidden by the flowing shape of a cloak. The light emerged from the fog, cementing itself into the shape of a silvery lantern, held in a black hand by a metal band looping above it.

As the creature’s golden face appeared it stepped out of the fog and another shape formed behind it, easily looming twice its height, staring out at them.

Twilight found herself at a loss for words for a long moment as it looked out over them. It fit Tempest’s description almost to a T, but the reality of it was different. The heavy breathing coming from its skyward turned face and the way it supported itself on the spear in its other hand gave off the impression of something injured, but the keen purple eyes peering out of the bored looking golden mask and the deliberate steadiness with which it moved and held its lantern made her think this thing was trying to project an absolute invulnerability. It didn’t matter if its shoulders heaved with every breath, it didn’t matter if it had to lean on its staff, it was in control.

Somehow, this only made the creature feel more volatile.

“Well,” the creature broke the silence again, the mandibles in its frontward facing face clicking as its voice rang clear, almost shrill and dripping in disdain. “Teridax’ Watch-hounds, I should have figured no one but you could make that much noise.” Antroz didn’t react but Mutran took a step forwards, his brow furrowed with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What noise?” Antroz cut him off, holding up an arm to keep Mutran behind him, “and how do you know us?”

“I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me, brother,” it spat, taking another step forwards. “Your foolishness didn’t leave behind much for me to salvage, after all.”

“Foolishness?” Antroz pressed, “what are you talking about?”

“Noise?” The creature sneered, “foolishness? Don’t play dumb with me, Antroz, it doesn’t suit you.” Its forward facing eyes widened, the heavy breathing of its upward facing mouth growing faster; Twilight noticed in the corner of her eye that Gorast had gone very still. “Anyone with an Olmak could have felt what you did to get here and everyone with a pulse knows what you did before you left.” A dark chuckle came from it, “luckily for me, I’m the only one left with access to the former.”

“Tridax?” Mutran blurted out, shoving Antroz’ arm aside. “Is that you?” The thing let out another laugh, its eyes flashing between four different colours before it settled back to purple. “What happened to you, brother?”

“Of course it’s you that gets it right, you and Chirox are the ones who taught Teridax how to pull off this little stunt, aren’t you?” He pointed his spear at the golden mask. “Of course, I had to go through a couple extra steps thanks to this fool I ended up attached to.” His eyes flicked to Twilight, who was feeling more than a little lost in the conversation. There was history between the Makuta and this Tridax, far more than she’d been given, leaving her feeling like she was trying to plug a leak with a paper towel. “While you’ve been out here enjoying your reward, I’ve been forced to live off of this mad idiot like some lowly parasite!”

The apelike face began to cackle, a sound that came out more desperate wheeze than laugh. Tridax grimaced and rammed the flat of his spear into its teeth, “shut up! I’m talking!” He pointed his spear out at Twilight, his eyes twitching as he tried to regain the look of disdainful composure he’d been wearing before. “And what’s this, domesticated the locals already?” She decided that was as good a queue as any to enter the conversation.

“Actually,” Twilight started, drawing a grimace from Tridax. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria,” she drew herself tall under the withering glare Tridax was giving her. “You have kidnapped our citizens and taken one of our towns, I am here to negotiate for their release.”

“Ah,” Tridax’ glare broke with an amused huff, the growing tension in his body starting to fall away, “you’re the one that idiot Tempest won’t shut up about. I should have figured her call had reached someone.”

“Tempest! What have you done with her?” Twilight took a step forwards.

“A high tolerance for Shadow Leeches on that one,” He said, stalking back and forth in front of the looming shadow in the mist, Mutran flinched in the corner of Twilight’s eye. “Is she yours?” He taunted, having a target to mock seeming to calm his nerves back down until he was almost carrying himself with professionalism. “You should be proud to have someone with that kind of willpower serving you.” He turned his back on them as Twilight took another step forwards and Antroz raised his voice.

“Trida-”

“Takua!” Tridax cut off Antroz’ shout, planting his spear in the ground and raising his hand to snap his fingers, “dispose of these traitors!” The hulking shape in the mist lunged.

Author's Note

This one really got away from me, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. Gorast gets to properly shine and I feel like the encounter with Tridax is as confusing, tense and frightening as I intended it to be. Don't worry, I'll get to explaining exactly what's going on there soon enough. ~~Just, don't expect nearly 10,000 word chapters to become a habit.~~

Act I Finale: Hunger, Has Consumed Their Duty

Watching Antroz regain his sight was honestly anticlimactic. Twilight had known the spell wouldn’t be flashy working inside of his body, but it was even less than she’d expected. His eyes changed colour, shifting from a dull scarlet to a bright, piercing gold, then to the lavender of her magic, then down to a brighter red than it started as. Light, almost yellow lines slid from the top and bottom of his eyes to meet in the middle, creating a slit pupil. He blinked, and it was over.

He looked at her, and for the first time she felt truly seen by him. It was an unnerving experience, her fur crawling like he was a predator that wasn’t sure if she’d be worth the trouble of trying to eat yet. His eyes flicked over her wings and horn, his expression vacant for a long moment before he made a puzzled sort of noise.

“You’re even smaller than I thought you were,” he said, standing up straight. “It really is a tundra out here.” He glanced down at his hands, then to the twin sickles strapped around his waist. He took off the one that was stained red with Takua’s blood and knelt down, wiping it off into the snow.

Twilight couldn’t help tensing a little bit, expecting him to at least yell at her over this. Instead, as he stood and turned towards the squat building Frigid was waiting in front of he just glanced back at her and said, “I trust there will be no more problems regarding leverage?” Twilight just nodded a bit numbly, “good.”

Twilight felt her mane beginning to stand on end and looked to her right. Vamprah stood, regarding her curiously.

“Oh,” her horn lit again, “I’ll give you your eyes back, too.” Vamprah shook his head, but didn’t take his piercing, blind eyes off of her. “Can I help you with something else?” She asked, backing away a bit sheepishly. He stared for another long moment and shook his head again, moving to follow Antroz. Twilight couldn’t help but shudder, she felt like she’d made a mistake other than the obvious and no one felt like filling her in on what it was.

“You hath made yourself quite the curiosity to them,” Luna spoke, making Twilight jump as she was pulled out of her thoughts. “E’en between each other ‘tis obvious they put great stock on who holds power,” she gestured over to where Antroz had grabbed one of the hanging fangs of Mutran’s mask and seemed to be scolding him. “‘T’would not surprise me if Antroz took great interest in you once this is over.”

Twilight sighed and shook her head, heading in after the Makuta. She just needed to get her head on straight, she took a deep breath to try and relax herself.

The scene inside stopped that breath in her throat, she stumbled into a stock still Frigid Wind, who was also regarding the scene before them with horror.

There were ponies strewn around a gaping hole in the back wall, most wearing bits and pieces of guard armour, not that it had done them much good. Many of the chest plates had been pushed concave, crushing whatever was beneath, others lay with their necks sitting at unnatural angles. The bodies had been tossed around the room haphazardly, upturning the desks and tables around the room.

As Twilight gaped at the carnage, Antroz and Luna stepped forwards to inspect the scene. Twilight swallowed heavily, trying to force feeling back into her legs to she could move again.

“Curious,” Luna said after a long moment of inspecting one of the destroyed chest plates. “These plates were destroyed in an instant. Thoughts, Noble Antroz?”

“This wasn’t intentional,” he nodded, standing up with his hand around the neck of one of the corpses, holding their limp body up like it weighed nothing. “None of these are clean breaks, Tridax is neurotic, he wouldn’t have stood for this kind of sloppiness if it was on his orders.” Twilight felt bile stinging in the back of her throat at the sight of it. Evidently Twilight wasn’t the only one, as Antroz glanced around at the others his fangs twitched and his arm jolted slightly as he stopped himself from casually tossing the body aside, instead gently putting them back down.

“If I had my guess,” Mutran clicked his fangs, “considering he captured the other residents instead of killing them, those Toa oafs overestimated how sturdy these guards would be.” He picked up a discarded piece of armour, clenching his fist around it with a metallic crinkle, “what is this, a Titanium blend?” He shook his head, “that’s not gonna cut it against a Toa in a place like this.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked cautiously, still having a bit of trouble stepping further into the room.

“A Toa’s power comes both from within and outside forces, including each other,” Mutran replied. “It’s one of the things that makes them dangerous, given the right environment, or the right allies, they can go from something you hardly even have to concern yourself with to an immediate or even overwhelming threat. This place, or, rather, this world is lousy with all kinds of power; and a group of Takua of all Toa working together?”

He stopped for a moment, one of his claws going up to his mask. “Well, that would be a threat to us even without his Light powers or Tridax’ direction.”

“It’s the kind of thing the Order would get involved with,” Antroz huffed, starting to carefully gather up the bodies and lay them down in less grisley positions. “We have two advantages, though. Well, three now.”

“And those are?” Luna asked, her horn lighting as she gently nudged the bodies into funary poses.

“First, the nature of their power as Toa means once the sun comes up they won’t be able to use their Avohkii without incinerating themselves, which means Mutran and I will be able to turn anything ranged they throw at us against them and they’ll be without a panic button like he used earlier. Second, what Tridax did to them is easy to reverse if we can clear some spaces in the fog; I’ll show you how. And third,” he grinned, standing up straight again, his eyes blazing, “I have a plan.”

______

Mutran stood to the side as Antroz taught the guards the frequency needed to counter the Shadow Leeches. He couldn’t help the grimace twitching at his mask, to think he’d be forced to counteract his own creation. For Takua. His claws clenched around air and he scoffed to himself; Tridax just had to be difficult, didn’t he? Maybe he’d still get the chance to kill at least one of the Toa if the ponies messed up; he could hope.

He knew one thing, though, the only reason Tridax would call them traitors would be that Teridax had gone turncoat. If that had happened, there wouldn’t be any going back for them. A faceless fear settled into his mind. He growled to himself, chewing at one of his claws, they were safe, and they wouldn’t be going back into whatever ambush Teridax had set up. Antroz wasn’t a fool and not even Krika had the kind of self loathing needed to march to that kind of death; so why was he afraid? They were going to have the Olmak that Tridax had used to get here, it was only a matter of tearing it from his defeated brother.

He glanced over to the Princesses, who appeared to be deep in discussion over something. Would they actually have to leave, though? This world had welcomed them with open arms, would they actually have reason to leave? Would they really cast them out as readily as they had taken them in? He narrowed his eyes, of course they would, it’s hardly like they would allow Tridax to leave, take his army with him and make himself a continual threat; so it would be an army of stranded Toa’s word against six Makuta. Five, more likely, considering Krika’s disposition.

They were going to be forced out. A tightness settled in his chest and he blinked, that was odd. Another unknown yet familiar feeling, what was this one? It almost felt angry but softer, less sure of itself. Strange, indecision wasn’t like him. He huffed and resolved to ignore the feeling, unlike the possessive itch from earlier this one would cause hesitation, not spur him to action. They were going to have to leave, it hardly mattered, they would have the means to go wherever caught their fancy soon.

Why were they even helping? He jolted slightly, feeling his claw bend sideways under his fangs, a flash of pain running through his armour. There was something different about that thought, something that set his armour trembling, something that was him and yet not. He corrected his claw with hardly more than a glance, his eyes shimmering blue so quickly it could barely be noticed as his armour returned to its proper shape. Still, he considered the option.

They, in truth, owed these Equestrians nothing. The closest thing to a debt they had was Krika, and that, as was always true of him, was more curse than blessing. Why not join Tridax? They’d worked together before, surely they could again. They could conquer this place easily with an army of Shadow Takua.

He shook his head, Tridax had already demonstrated he wasn’t willing to work with them, he was hardly even willing to talk to them. Not to even consider what would happen if they failed. Like Antroz had said, having more than one world out for his destruction would be nothing but a nuisance; and if they didn’t help, they not only immediately lose the grace of the natives, they left Tridax running around with an army and a grudge against them, it was only common sense to help get rid of him.

He shot Antroz an irritated look, no doubt Antroz had already considered their options, there was ample opportunity for them to turn on the Equestrians, if Antroz hadn’t given the order or told him to be ready, it wasn’t in his plan. His gut twisted like it always did when he was forced to admit someone else knew better than him, but he’d follow Antroz in this case.

The tremor in his armour calmed, and another feeling flitted through his mind, something like relief, but more solid, dependable. He frowned, this one felt even more familiar, like slipping back into an old form. His expression twitched tighter, did he, trust, Antroz? He shook his head, surely not, he didn’t trust anyone, he hadn’t for a long time. Yet, the feeling remained; he narrowed his eyes, he’d have to keep a close watch of this feeling.

He had just enough time to recognize that thought as Other again before he was interrupted.

“Mutran,” Twilight’s voice cut through his thoughts and he turned to face her, his expression still troubled despite his best efforts.

“Yes, Princess?” He said, pressing heavily on the title in the hopes she’d get discouraged and leave him to his mind again, there were too many contradicting feelings going through him at the moment for his comfort. She didn’t flinch, he blinked, usually she at least twitched when her title was invoked. She was here for something important, her gaze on him hard- no, concerned.

“What is a Shadow Leech?” She asked and another strange feeling took him. He felt the overwhelming impulse to lie, she wouldn’t like the truth. He had already opened his mouth to speak when his mind caught up to the feeling, another Other feeling. His fangs clicked as he shut his mouth. What was this Other? It was like it was trying to sabotage him, they needed the local’s trust, at least for now, lying about something so obvious would only strain things. Now this was a feeling he’d have to watch carefully. He blinked, that thought felt like his, but they were so close, what was the difference?

He realized he’d been standing frozen for almost an entire minute, the concern on Twilight’s face plain now, no longer stiff, almost nurturing. He shook his head.

“Apologies, I was lost in my own head,” he said, “what was your question?” She repeated herself, and he hummed to himself until he was sure he could trust his voice. “A Shadow Leech is a creation of mine and Tridax’, a disgusting one, but effective.”

He popped the claws of his chest open, dropping the glowing orange Tridax Pod into his waiting hand. He held it up to the light of the moon, letting Twilight see the leeches slowly squirming inside. “Tridax created the Stasis Pods for them, I made the leeches inside.” He placed the pod back into his chest cavity, the claws of it snapping shut to hold it in place. “Their life spans are measured in hours, hence the need for Stasis Pods, but once released they will quickly search out the nearest living source of Light energy and latch on to feed.”

Twilight’s jaw was starting to go slack, but Mutran managed to keep going with only the barest hint of his eyes rolling, “they sap the Light energy out of a target, both physically and mentally, then insert a Block of something close enough to Dark energy to keep the Light energy from replenishing. Because this creates an imbalance in the internal flow of energy it causes a good deal of… mutation, and renders the target incredibly vulnerable to suggestion.”

A familiar pride was starting to flush through him again, puffing out his chest as he kept speaking, “as such, each batch is created with a weak telepathic link to the Makuta it was made for, so they can take immediate advantage of this suggestable state and ensure the loyalty of the target. I based the process on something that was done to me once.” He hummed to himself, “usually the experience is incredibly unpleasant, and the target has no choice but to obey the orders of a Makuta after that, but there are a few exceptions.”

“E-exceptions?” Twilight swallowed, taking a step away from him.

“Those already devoid of Light energy can be affected on a physical level, but not a mental one, and there was a strange one among the Av-Matoran of Karda Nui.” He glanced over to where Vamprah was trailing after Princess Luna, both of their attention keenly on the guard’s continuing practice. “Vamprah’s eyes, a Matoran named Gavla, was only under our direct control for mere six hours before she regained her senses.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “as the first of the Av-Matoran we turned she had been assigned to Antroz and was to be the leader of the Shadow Matoran we created, but once she regained her independence she refused to let anyone but Vamprah so much as touch her. She proved useful and plenty loyal with her faculties intact, and Vamprah wasn’t overly bothered by her, so Antroz still positioned her as the Shadow Matoran figurehead.” He couldn’t help the slight snarl that worked its way out of him, “none of the three of them would let me study her properly to find out what happened, though.”

“So... it’s mind control?” Twilight said snapping him back to the present. Her expression perplexed him, even among the Toa there had been a measure of awe in regards to the Shadow Leeches’ abilities, but there was none with her, just a look like she’d bitten down on something slimy. He could appreciate that.

“Yes, hideous, isn’t it?” He nodded, standing up a bit straighter.

“It’s Black Magic,” she snapped, surprising Mutran a bit, “and you mass produced it? You used it on people?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” he said, a cold edge entering his voice. She was pressing him for something, and her tone was starting to yank on an itch in the back of his head.

“After someone did it to you?” She continued, “based on something someone did to you.” He drew himself up tall, a sneer working its way across his face.

“Had some experience with that?” He snipped, waving her off. She recoiled, he’d struck a nerve, good.

“Yes, enough to know better,” she shot back. He felt his temper roar, this girl, not even nearing a century old from what he could gather, dared to condescend him? Dared to shame him? The Other feeling and his own melded until he lost track of which was which and he didn’t notice the purple tint overtaking his vision.

“Don’t lecture me, Princess!” He wheeled on her, wings flared and claws bristling as he poured as much derision into her title as he could. “It took me almost half a millennium to get these disgusting things to work properly, I will not be shamed for the fact that they do!” His vision narrowed until he lost sight of anything but Twilight, rage coursing through his Antidermis enough to make him want to burst out of his armour, he was still speaking, but he couldn’t keep track of a word that was coming out of him.

“Makuta,” a voice washed away the Other feeling, leaving only his own anger to contend with, much more manageable. He suddenly realized he was leaning over Twilight, one of his hands clasped at the Tridax Pod in his chest and her face terrified. He blinked, had he been about to unleash the Shadow Leeches on her? “Makuta Mutran, stand down,” Princess Luna’s voice rushed through him, stripping away the cloud from his mind until he was left with mere indignation in place of the near blinding fury.

He shook his head and took a step back. That Other feeling suddenly didn’t sound like him in the least, its voice was slithering and clammy, the kind of cold that came off algae slicked rocks as it continued to rage in the back of his mind. He held in a groan and brought a hand up to rub at the side of his head to try and calm the jolts of something ricocheting across his skullplate.

He closed his eyes and centered himself, trying to smooth out the irritated edges of his psyche so he could speak again. As he opened them he glanced to Luna, her eyes were wary as she studied him, Vamprah stalking back and forth behind her. He forced his eyes to shift back to Twilight with a grimace.

“We needed,” he growled, less aggressive this time, more frustrated now than anything, “a non-lethal option.” Twilight blinked, letting out a long breath he suspected she’d been holding since he began shouting. “The Matoran were willing to fight to the death anywhere we fought them, and rebellion was always brewing anywhere we conquered; but we needed them to see to Mata Nui’s functions once the Plan was completed, genocide was never on the table, we couldn’t have them fighting us to extinction. Well, we could if we had wanted to try, but that was never the goal. We needed an alternative.” He brought his hand up to his chest again, just cupping the pod this time, not grabbing at it, not threatening, no matter how satisfying that might have been.

No, that thought was the Other’s, he needed these creature’s trust, threatening them would be foolish and little else. “I created that alternative, first in the form of a rather unwieldy and indirect memory erasing virus that Teridax turned on Metru Nui, and then in the Leeches. I hate them, I’ve had my head rummaged through before and I still…” he bit his tongue, unable to parse out his thoughts on the subject, “they’re miserable, but they were necessary.”

“I… understand,” Twilight looked down, drawing Mutran’s eye. Her expression was troubled, but the edge of it had worn blunt, “I don’t approve, I guess, but I understand.” Mutran huffed and crossed his arms.

“I don’t, either,” he murmured, she glanced up at him, puzzled and he kicked at the snow beneath his feet. “I’m proud of them for the fact that they work, not what they do. It was incredibly difficult to narrow down their diet so they wouldn’t kill their victims, it was even more difficult to make them leave a piece of themselves behind to cement the process. I worked for several hundred years to minimize the mutations to the point where they wouldn’t cripple the victim, and even now they’re still not viable for infiltration purposes.”

He huffed and gestured to Antroz, who’s eyes kept flicking over to them, “and it can all be undone by a paltry blast of sound. Once a flawed but functional crowning achievement, now just another failure.” He crossed his arms again, pulling his wings in close.

“You helped make the spell that restored Antroz’ sight,” Twilight said, drawing Mutran’s attention back to her. “Perhaps that can be an achievement for good that no one can take from you.” Her gaze was steely now, looking out towards the fog bank in the distance. He hummed in reply, sparing a glance for Vamprah’s still sightless eyes. Pompous hunter, of course he’d refused.

“Perhaps,” he murmured after he noticed Twilight had been expecting some form of reply.

______

Tempest woke up slowly, to the immediate protest of her throbbing head. She took in a quick breath through her nose and almost retched, the smell of vomit hung heavy in the air around her. Recoiling off the hard floor she shook her head and opened her eyes, blinking the bleary haze from them.

She was in a cell, she didn’t recognize the material of the bars or the floor, but it shimmered with a dark, metallic glint. The side of her face felt sticky and wet, but first thing was recon. Looking outside of it she could see a thick fog hanging in the air, reducing the cells across from her to barely distinct silhouettes. It was so quiet she could hardly even hear her own breath.

She looked down at where she had been laying and scrunched her nose, she’d been laying in a pile of, judging by the pattern across the floor, her own, sick. Why would that have been? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the smell as she gathered herself. Her eyes went wide and a hoof went up to her chest. It came down on something that made a disgusting crunching sound when she touched it.

She couldn’t contain the yelp this time, shoving whatever it was off of her. It relinquished its hold with only a slight pinprick of pain as it fell to the floor. She stared at the thing, what had that twisted creature called it? The Shadow Leech, it had definitely seen better days. The dead creature had shrivelled and sunken on itself, only the grotesque ring of fangs in the center of it helping its once gelatinous body to hold some form of shape. It was circular, almost the size of her head and even when those creatures had pressed it to her chest it had been comprised almost entirely of mouth.

She glanced down at her chest, for something with teeth like that, the wound was remarkably shallow, more like it had just been using them to hold onto her instead of eat her. She shook her head and groaned at another throb in it as she tried to take stock of the situation.

What had that thing done to her? She took another deep breath, whatever it was, she was pretty sure it had failed. It had bitten down and then things started to hurt, she began to recognize the headache. It wasn’t the usual sort that throbbed in time with her pulse, it was slower, deeper, it felt like it was reaching up into her horn and trying to yank her out of her body through it. This was magical backlash, something she was intimately familiar with, she spat out the taste of vomit, acrid yet strangely sweet on her tongue. Black Magic, then.

That thing had tried to put some kind of Black Magic into her, but with her broken horn her body had rejected it. She let out a mirthless huff, counting herself lucky; but if her old injury had been the only reason it hadn’t worked on her…

She felt herself stiffen on reflex, looking out of her cell again and watching the one across from her carefully. Another pony had stepped up to the bars, staring at her intently. Their eyes were vacant, feral and sickly green, purple light streamed from their nostrils as they breathed, drifting off the corners of their eyes before dissolving into the fog around them. They let out a sort of bray, almost halfway to a bark, and more toxic green eyes began to open in the mist around them.

Tempest had to contain the urge to retreat to the back of her own cell; each of the ponies in the other cells had been utterly saturated with Black Magic, reduced to little more than instinct and aggression. They had noticed her, but there were two sets of bars between them and her. As long as she didn’t panic or do anything else to excite them, she would be fine.

The more pressing matter was, were there any in the cells next to her?

She glanced to her left and let out a relieved breath at the sight of a wall comprised of the same dark metal as the floor and bars. Looking to her right, however, greeted her with more bars.

She stiffened, looking through to see the inhabitant of her adjacent cell.

She didn’t recognize the insectile creature, but she could tell it was probably very injured, laying limply against the back wall, five limbs splayed out with no indication of comfort, two arms tangled together on one side and only one on the other. Between the green plates of its exoskeleton she could see angrier green swelling, forcing the plates apart in some spots, especially along its abdomen and the shoulder joint of its singular, blackened left arm. There was a bright red band fastened around its chest and its jaw was sitting at an odd angle, coated in something else’s blood if the green swelling contrasting with the scarlet coating its fangs was anything to go by.

Whatever this thing was, it had been brutalized before being dumped in here next to her.

She glanced to the many eyes watching her from across the hall and shuddered, her instinct said to leave the thing alone. Anything that was in here wasn’t likely to be friendly if the other ponies were anything to go by; but she had no real chance of getting out of here alone, and she had to find Grubber, too. This thing next to her might be her best chance.

She took a deep breath and pounded a hoof on the bars connecting their cells. The sound was hollow, hardly even enough to make the ponies across the hall blink. She snarled and pushed down her headache, focusing on her broken horn as she forced whatever magic it could gather through it.

An electric pop snapped through the air before she focused on one of the bars, releasing the unstable magic into it. The blast was small, she hadn’t tried to make it big, but it was still enough to shake her cell, and hopefully the cell next to her, sending the green eyes in the mist across the hall scrambling back and then surging back forwards, snarls and whinnies drifting muted through the air.

The thing in the cell next to her stirred, blinking golden eyes open and groaning. It brought up its two right arms to cup its jaw, forcing it back into place with a strangely mechanical click. It snapped its teeth a couple times like it was ensuring everything was back in place before turning to her.

“Can you stand?” Tempest didn’t waste any time, if the growing volume of the ponies across the hall was anything to go by she didn’t have much of it. The creature nodded and got to its feet, swaying for a brief moment before it shook its head and let out a low growl.

Tempest nodded to it as it raised its left arm, grabbing at its hand with both of its right hands. It must have been in a great deal of pain but if they wanted to get out of here they’d have to ignore that, “good, I’m Tempest Shadow, we need to get out of here and- what in the world are you doing!?” She couldn’t help but hiss sympathetically as the creature took hold of its left hand and yanked, forcing it into two with the shriek of tearing metal, green blood splattering across the ground as it did so with little more acknowledgement than another snarl.

Its eyes swirled with black and orange as it stared at the wounds it had opened up on its hands, the red band around its chest glowed the same colours in reply. It growled and shook its freed left arms before winding both sets together into two and speaking in a decidedly feminine voice.

“I know who you are,” she said, trying and failing to slip a claw under the red band. “I came here with Twilight Sparkle to try and rescue you.” She snarled and grabbed at one of the bars, “I’m,” she yanked on it hard enough that a stuttering sort of whirr came from her arms before giving up, “Makuta Gorast.” Tempest blinked, standing up a bit straighter.

“Twilight’s here? Did they get her too?”

“No, Tridax goaded me and I charged ahead,” Gorast swore in a language Tempest didn’t recognize, trying to grab at the red band again. “Don’t worry, she’s smarter than me, she got away,” Gorast huffed and let her arms leave the band. She looked Tempest over through the bars. “What can you do with that?” She gestured to Tempest’s horn.

“I-” Tempest had to suppress an indignant, defensive urge. “I can blow things up, not a whole lot else.” Gorast crossed her arms, glancing between the bars on the cell and the red band around her chest before shrugging.

“I’m already pretty beat up,” she shrugged, gesturing to the band, “think you can blast off this thing? If we wanna get out of here I’m gonna need it gone.”

“Uh, I don’t know how good of an idea that is,” Tempest said dryly, “you can’t really do much if you’re in pieces.”

“You’d be surprised,” Gorast snapped back, “you want out or not?” Tempest felt her brow furrow, looking her over with careful consideration. Gorast was moving with a slight stiffness, her breathing heavy and slightly shallow, she was obviously still in a great deal of pain, even without the injury to the left arm she was keeping tucked close to her side. She had a point though, if Tempest had to guess that thing around her chest was a sort of Magic Suppressor. Gorast was injured, physically she was below her prime, she needed access to whatever sorts of magics she had at her disposal.

“Fine,” Tempest nodded, “come here.” She stepped up to the bars, Gorast coming closer without hesitation. Even if Gorast was sure she could handle it she didn’t want to hurt her. Tempest closed her eyes and focused, drawing as much magic to the jagged edge of her horn as she could, trying to force the unstable power narrow. Faint electric snaps and crackles filled the air as she wrestled with the magic, gritting her teeth with the effort of it. She opened her eyes and took aim, releasing the magic with an almost deafening crack. It impacted across Gorast’s chest, and even semi-directed as it was it sent her flying back into the other side of her cell.

Tempest shook her head to clear the spots from her vision and looked over to Gorast as she peeled herself off the bars. Tempest blinked and looked around, the fog had been blown back, it swooped back in quickly, but for a moment she could see the ponies across the hall as more than just menacing silhouettes and glowing eyes.

As the fog swallowed them back up she turned back to Gorast in time to see her grab at a portion of the red band that had ben warped by the explosion and tear it off of her soot blackened chest, tossing the sparking, ruined band of metal away. She unwound her left hand into two and glared at her oozing wounds, her eyes swirling with orange and black again. There was a flash of heat and her hands stopped bleeding, the smell of burning metal and flesh filling the air.

“There,” Gorast huffed in satisfaction, clenching her fists and weaving them back together. “Stand back.” Tempest obeyed without hesitation, taking a couple steps back as Gorast marched forwards and grabbed at a pair of the bars between their cells, her eyes burning like fire, a pale yellow swimming against an almost scarlet gold. The bars began to vibrate, humming faintly in the deadening mist as a reddish glow spread through them.

A faint slam rippled through the air past Gorast’s cell, somewhere in the mist. Tempest forced her eyes away from the steady display of power to see if she could tell what had made that sound. She couldn’t see anything through the mist, but she didn’t need to, to assume a guard was coming to check on all the noise.

“Gorast,” she hissed low, looking back to the Makuta.

“Just a second,” she hissed back, her face scrunched up in concentration as the vibrations began to still, the bars completely glowing red. A hulking shape began to form in the fog, its head almost scraping the ceiling.

“We don’t have time,” Tempest insisted. The bars suddenly lost cohesion, crumbling to dust under Gorast’s hands with a snap like a twig breaking underfoot, leaving nothing but a small pile of faintly metallic dust in their place.

“Now pretend like nothing’s happened,” Gorast said, retrieving the red band from where she’d tossed it and slipping it back around her chest as the shape began to become clearer. One of the things that had captured her stepped out of the mist, glaring down at them. This one was slightly different from the one that had come for Tempest and Grubber. The snarling gargoyle heads of its pauldrons were more squarish, as was its mask, harsher, more sterile lines than the one she’d seen before. The creature glared down at them without even an attempt to hide its disdain.

Its eyes focussed on Gorast and it snapped something in its language at her. Gorast just snarled back at it, launching herself at the bars of the cell and shaking them. The creature watched her for a long moment, glancing down at the blackened spot on her chest and huffing out a chuckle. Its voice was hard and sharp as the disdain in its gaze.

It said something in its language and gestured to Tempest, shaking its head. It leaned in and reached between the bars, grabbing at one of the arms holding the red band up and yanking it through the bars to hold her pressed against them. It hissed something in its language and Gorast snarled something back before her eyes flicked to Tempest. “Light him up,” she said, her voice steady, sure and commanding, not an inch of room left for Tempest to hesitate.

Tempest let an old, fierce edge into her grin as she drew power in. The creature tried to stand, yelling something at Tempest before Gorast turned her hand in his grip to grab at his arm, setting her feet and yanking him back down to her level to hold him in place. The red band clattered to the floor without her holding it up and the creature’s face went slack in panic. Tempest released the power, sending it sailing between the bars to impact across the creature’s face with a bang.

The mist was pushed away as the creature reeled back under the force of the explosion. Gorast released his arm, her eyes swirling with black and red as she let out an ear piercing bellow. The creature screamed and clutched at the sides of his head as he was shoved up against the cells on the other side of the hall by the blast of sound.

Then something strange began to happen. The dark greys and tarnished whites of his armour shifted, retreating to make way for bright, polished gold and an almost ivory white, the harsh lines of his pauldrons and mask smoothed slightly, becoming ever so slightly more organic in appearance, his eyes shifted from a harsh, angry red to a softer, piercing green. The ponies contaminated by Black Magic brayed and howled, clutching their ears and cowering low until Gorast stopped, letting the armoured creature fall to the ground.

He seemed dazed, almost unresponsive as Gorast stood up straight, grabbing at the lock on her cell, and nodding for Tempest to join her. Tempest carefully stepped into Gorast’s cell as the lock began to glow the same red as the bars had.

“Is, uh, he, going to be alright?” Tempest asked reluctantly, watching the downed creature carefully. Gorast didn’t look up from the lock.

“Yeah,” she grunted, “that thing you saw with the lantern was controlling him, I undid it. He’ll be up in a minute and he’ll be more agreeable,” she spat to the side as the lock gave way with the same brittle snap. “Or I’ll kill him, either way, it’s one down.” She shoved the door open, missing hitting the creature in the face by a hair.

This was apparently what he needed to come to, recoiling from the door and groaning as he forced himself up to a sitting position, hands cradling his head.

Gorast snapped her fingers, “Takua,” she said firmly, drawing his attention back to her before she rattled off something in his language, gesturing to Tempest as she did so.

Takua stared at Gorast for a long moment before his eyes flicked to Tempest and he nodded. Gorast hummed to herself as Takua rose to his feet and gave them each a quick bow. Gorast turned back to Tempest, “Tempest, Takua, he’ll cover you, you’ll cover him.” She turned back to Takua, and repeated their names alongside another quick burst of their language. Takua nodded and said something back; even his voice was different, boisterous and almost immature, like a colt trying to sound like his father.

Tempest glanced into the other cells. Now that Tempest and Gorast were out of their cell they’d gone silent, the ponies inside retreated to the back of the cells and just watching with their glowing eyes.

“Gorast, you were able to reverse it in Takua, could we help them?” She gestured to the cells, Gorast looked them over, her face betraying no opinion before she shook her head.

“They’re just average people, right? Citizens?” Gorast asked, Tempest nodded. “Then they’ll be dead weight, and if we restore them but then fail we’ll have done nothing but give them time to panic and lose hope. We’ll come back for them once we have a clear exit route.” Tempest nodded again.

“Do you know the way out?” She turned to the Takua before she remembered the language gap. “Oh, sorry, Gorast, would you mind translating?” Gorast grunted noncommittally but said something to Takua. He made a face for a moment and nodded, gesturing towards the door and saying something.

“He remembers,” Gorast confirmed, “he can lead us out.”

“Then show the way,” Tempest said, gesturing for Takua to take the lead.

______

Takanuva felt unsteady; back home he’d only ever heard stories of the Makuta, defenders of the Great Beings’ Fortress, and now one was leading him around and referring to him only by his Matoran name, Takua. Part of him was grateful for that, he’d never quite felt like his Toa name fit him, it was like an overlarge mask that everyone insisted he had to wear. Not having to helped calm his nerves, which he desperately needed when he thought back on why he was here at all.

Another part of him wanted to correct her, even if it fit awkwardly he was still a Toa, and that part was suspicious she wasn’t avoiding using it to set him at ease, but more as a sign of disrespect.

The organic creature with them- Tempest, Gorast had called her- was scanning the mist with keen, jaded eyes. Even if he couldn’t understand her she still gave off a familiar, dependable bearing; it made him wonder how Jaller was. Would he be looking for him? How many people even knew he was gone?

He shook his head, he’d be getting home soon, he knew what had brought him here and they were going to make that mutant, Tridax, send him home.

The complex they were moving through was full of strange, counterintuitive twists and turns. Luckily Takanuva could remember his time as Tridax’ thrall quite clearly, including the maps of the lab they had all been shown to make sure they didn’t get lost.

The real problem was avoiding the others stalking through the mist filled halls. It was hard to believe the towering forms they were narrowly avoiding were all him. There were a few even taller than he was now, some shorter, but even just looking down at himself he could tell he’d been changed drastically. It was hard for him to wrap his head around this many monstrous versions of himself walking around.

They reached another crossroad and Gorast looked up at him, he hummed and thought for a moment.

“We go left here,” he gestured to the left pathway and Gorast grunted an affirmative, moving towards the right branch while he stepped forwards to deal with the one going straight ahead.

He drew his staff from his back and let his power flow through it, condensing the Light down to a powerful laser he turned on the floor once he’d measured out as many steps as he was tall. This had apparently been Tempest’s idea, to block off any paths that didn’t lead out so the other organics could safely escape when they went back for them.

He reached down and grabbed at the gap in the metal he’d created, his hydraulics and muscles straining as he tore up a sheet of the floor, bending the slab up until he was standing back on the crossroad and the hall was blocked. He glanced to his right, seeing Gorast haul her side of the floor up. She didn’t flinch or wince, but her movements were still stiff, she kept repositioning her left hand and her shoulders heaved with her breaths, even if she was keeping them quiet. The others really had done a number on her.

He looked down at his own hands, if Tempest hadn’t been with her in the cells, would she have been able to overpower him so easily?

“Takua,” Gorast’s voice cut through his thoughts and he looked back up. She nodded towards the unblocked path and turned to move on, still taking the vanguard position despite her injuries. He couldn’t quite tell if she was trying to be a comforting presence by pushing herself regardless of pain or just trying not to show weakness. The way she looked at him made him think it was the latter. She was hardly sparing him a glance, and when she did it was with a disdainful glare that made the armour on his arm where she’d grabbed him crawl.

“Coming, Makuta Gorast,” Takua said, shaking his head and following, he was worrying too much. Even with his newly restored armour he still looked like one of the people who put her in here. She was still a Makuta, trusted of the Great Beings, even if her body wasn’t at its peak she had her other powers to fall back on, and if that body failed she could move to another.

Something in the thought rubbed wrong, if she could have bailed out of that crippled body, why hadn’t she? He glanced down at Tempest, Tempest had been the only one of the organics they had released. Had Gorast gotten herself captured on purpose to find her? What was so special about this organic?

Tempest looked up at him and for a split second her eyes were steel, the kind of hard, assessing stare he’d only ever seen on mercenaries. He looked away first, trying to ignore the chill running down his spine.

He was beginning to feel like he’d jumped from one bad crowd to another.

______

Gorast was on her feet primarily through sheer stubbornness and she knew it. Every movement sent jolts of pain through her body, the only real saving grace of her condition was that nothing was outright broken. Still though, she forced her entire body taught with each movement in an attempt to force the pain to burn itself out, her next visit to Mutran was going to be murder.

Fixing her hand would have just forced her to consume more light than normal at her next meal, but now she may as well just let it heal on its own with how badly getting him to force the process would drain her. She had plates all along her chest and abdomen that were just barely hanging on, and she could feel herself leaking Antidermis somewhere on the inside

As far as she could tell Tempest hadn’t realized just how bad off she was, but Takua was eyeing her strangely.

“How much further?” She growled at him.

“We’re coming up on the lobby,” he said back, his voice growing steadily more unsure. “We’re going to have to be especially careful, it’s not likely he left it unguarded.”

“Be on guard,” she said to Tempest, turning to face forward again. “The room we’re coming up on is going to be huge, Tridax is too full of himself to have it any other way.” Tempest winced.

“We’re about to walk into a killbox, aren’t we?” She hissed through her teeth, Gorast just gave her a begrudging nod.

“If things get ugly stand behind me and Takua, you’re squishier than we are.”

Gorast had expected the hall to open up into a larger room, but instead an enormous, if unadorned, door blocked the path. She growled under her breath; of course, he couldn’t just let them slip in, he had to make them announce themselves. “Get ready,” she said, pressing at the door as gently as she could manage.

It moved with surprising ease, sliding open a crack for her to peer through without a sound. Looking out into the room beyond she couldn’t see anyone. The far end of the room was obscured by fog, but she could make out the faint outlines of scaffolding across the far wall.

She opened the door slightly further and glanced up, the room extended up four floors, with balconies along the walls to allow people to look down into the main lobby from each of them. Gorast hissed through her teeth, “definitely a killbox.” She brought her eyes back down and glanced to either end of the room. To the right a set of windows extended up the wall, starting at the second floor and extending up to the top floor, shafts of daylight piercing through the gloom but doing nothing to stop the fog from keeping everything shrouded in obscurity. To the left, Gorast couldn’t help the way her breathing stilled. The orange glow of Tridax’ lantern shone bright against a windowless wall.

She swore under her breath and jerked back from the door, having to restrain the urge to slam it shut. “He knows we got out, he’s waiting for us.” She wheeled on Takua, “is there another way out? He’s a Makuta, he’d never design a building with only one way out.”

“I-I don’t know,” Takua put his hands up, taking a step back. “If there is he never told us about it.”

“Are you going to stand there all day, Gorast?” Tridax’ detestable voice slithered through the air, making Gorast’s hands clench. “I have places to be, you know. Don’t make me come get you.” Gorast felt her expression twitch into a snarl. This was bad, but her reaction was good, she could feel rage pouring into her body, driving away the deep aches and sharp pains in her. Her breath began coming more heavily, but easier, less deliberate.

How dare he condescend to her?

“Tempest, come here,” she commanded, “Takua, when I give the signal I want you to light this place up, bright as you can.” Tempest didn’t move, whether through hesitation or refusal it hardly mattered right then, Gorast wheeled on her, Tempest flinched.

Gorast scoffed, “I have a plan, just obey and we don’t die.”

Silence reigned for a long moment, the expression on Tempest’s face conflicted, the one on Gorast’s trembling with the fury she was fanning in her chest.

How dare he assume the upper hand mattered when he was so close?

Tempest nodded, taking a step closer, “if you’re sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Of course I do,” Gorast snapped back, grabbing Tempest around the base of her neck and hauling her off her hooves. Tempest yelped and struggled for a second before going still, likely on instinct, Gorast didn’t have the peace of mind to bother with it beyond keeping her grip.

She nodded to Takua and turned to the door. She let the rage seize on an impulse and kicked at it. The metal shrieked as it was torn from its hinges, flying into the room beyond. She allowed himself a savage smile.

Her gait was sure, her gaze narrowed and pitiless as she marched into the room, Tempest held high and Takua trailing behind her. As she passed beyond the balconies above on this side of the room she heard the readying click of a Skyblaster, but the metallic clang of Tridax’ spear hitting the ground rang out through the air before anyone could fire.

“What is this?” Tridax growled, stepping forwards until his frame was outlined in the mist. “What are you doing?”

“Tempest called the Princesses here,” Gorast snarled back, squeezing at Tempest’s neck slightly harder. “If she dies, they’ll raze this place to the ground.” She took a step forwards, “and now that Antroz has seen your little stunt with these lightbound fools he’ll be teaching them how to rob you of your army.”

“A minor setback,” he snapped at her, “put down my prisoner.”

“No.”

“If you think a hostage will help you escape, you’re sorely mistaken.” He slammed the butt of his spear against the ground again, the sound echoing through the room. Gorast closed her eyes to mask their glow and reached out, gathering the coiled rage in her gut to fuel the grasp of her power.

She felt her Magnetism snag against each of the fifty foes in the balconies above.

How dare he assume she came here to escape?

She released Tempest and clenched her hand into a fist, grasping at Tridax’ firing squad and tearing them down from their posts.

“Now!” She roared, not waiting for the burst of Light power to fire off before she was blanketing herself and Tempest in a cloak of Darkness to shield them from it. She heard screams and the impact of metal hitting the ground more quickly than it was able to take. Not yet. She felt her shield buckle under an onslaught that was burning it away just barely faster than she could call it up.

Now, how dare he believe she was the one who should be afraid?

The second she felt the Light stop straining at her shield she burst out of it towards the dark spot that was Tridax’.

She was a soldier, a warrior, he was a scientist, it wouldn’t occur to him that he should wait a moment longer to lower his shield, and so he didn’t. Gorast’s pounce landed the moment he stripped away his shield. Tridax howled, in fear or rage she didn’t care as she unclipped her arms, shoving him to the ground with her lower pair while her upper moved to tear at his mask; stiffly, she wasn’t reacting as fast as she should.

He had enough bearing of mind to raise his hands to block hers, holding her at bay with the haft of his spear and bulk of his lantern. Gorast bared her fangs, the pain lancing up her left arms as she shoved and leaned closer to bite at his face only fueling the furious haze of battle. She saw panic flash through his eyes before they glowed grey and yellow and his body lost coherence. His form seemed to melt beneath her, slipping through her grasp and leaving her teeth to snap closed on nothing.

She shoved herself back to her feet as Tridax reformed behind her and the colour of his eyes shifted to a swirling bright yellow and red.

“Takua, protect me!” He shouted as Gorast pounced at him again and he slipped down into his shadow. She landed on all six, growling and snapping, the rage kindled into hate and her vision tinting violet.

The orange glow of Tridax’ lantern reappeared a good distance down the hall and Gorast’s gaze locked on it. “Leave your brother and the organic alive, I don’t care which way Gorast ends up!”

She spared a second to check how many of the dark Takua were getting to their feet, less than two dozen; Tempest shouted something, all of it was below her notice. She had a fool to punish.

Shadow rose to heed her call, snarling with the same animal intent she felt shivering through her teeth as it cloaked itself around her. She snapped her teeth and charged, surprising Tridax with her speed; still too slow, bogged down. He hardly had enough time to throw himself out of the way before she was upon him.

She pivoted on her talons as she reached where he’d been standing, focusing her momentum into a punch that connected against the haft of his spear. Pain flashed through her knuckles and all the way up into her shoulder at the impact but the force of it shoved Tridax’ arm aside and he shouted. An opening.

Ignoring the pain she kicked out at him, her talons raking across his chest as he was shoved to the ground again. The wind was driven from him as he hit the floor and began scrambling away from her. Her eyes bore down against his as she loomed over him, drinking in his terror.

She was Makuta Gorast, Deserter’s Bane, even injured and diminished as she was he should have understood, this is how he should have seen her all along.

“My loyalty,” she snarled at him, “is and has always been to the Brotherhood, to Teridax! I am no traitor.”

“What?” Tridax’ expression shifted in bewildered confusion. “That’s-” his eyes flicked over hers and he faltered. “You really don’t know…”

Then his gaze broke from hers to something over her shoulder and she saw hope kindle in his eyes. She snapped around, raising a tide of Shadow as a flash of silver caught her eye. One of the dark Takua stood over her, bearing down on her with his lance. She heaved against his pressure, the sound tearing out of her throat a roar of vicious rage; the slight flinch was all the opening she needed to shove him off of her and retaliate with a howling swath of Darkness.

He screamed as it smashed across his mask but managed to hold his footing, swinging wildly with his lance. Easy enough to avoid; she caught another flash of silver in the corner of her eye and her claws reached out to grab it, her arm weaving back together as her hand wrapped around the blade of Tridax’ spear. She felt it bite into her palm slightly, but it was a simple flash of pain, there and gone in an instant.

She yanked on it then whipped her arm around to throw Tridax aside, he landed with a clatter as she turned to deal with the dark Takua. He straightened his mask and set his stance as she did so. Gorast snarled and bared her claws, unweaving her arm again.

The crackle of electricity snapped through the air, a flash of blue flickered past her head and impacted across the dark Takua’s chest. An explosion tore through the air in front of her and she had to brace herself to hold her ground.

Right, Tempest; she shook her head, her senses returning to her as the dark Takua reeled back and the mist was pushed away. Her eyes swirled with red and black as she unleashed a Power Scream at him, the howl hitting home and driving him to his knees with his hands on his head. He fell limp as gold began seeping back into his armour and Gorast took the opportunity to glance over at her Takua and Tempest.

Even tough as it was to see through the fog, she could tell they weren’t faring very well. They’d been pushed back towards her from where they’d started, and each time she caught a flash of Takua’s white light it was formed into a barrier, the blue spark of Tempest’s horn flashing erratically out at the dark mass of opponents.

Gorast swore under her breath and glared back to where she’d thrown Tridax. He’d vanished, scanning the room she didn’t see the orange glow of his lantern either. She clicked her tongue, another flash of anger pushing away the pain fighting for her attention. She gave the rest of the room another searching look, but Tridax’ lantern still eluded her.

“Fine,” she huffed, turning back to where Tempest and Takua were fighting.

Slipping close under cover of the mist she watched for the right opportunity to strike. Tempest was doing her best to keep them at a distance with her faulty magic, but the windup on her strikes were too long and flashy, so she wasn’t having much luck actually striking any of the dark Takua; the one that had opened Gorast’s opponent up for a finishing blow had probably been a stray shot. The restored Takua was running defense, keeping shields of Light up and moving them to where they were needed to keep their opponents from landing any dangerous hits, too many foes bearing down on them for him to risk striking back.

Gorast suppressed an irritated twitch, she’d forgotten to think of their capabilities when she’d charged ahead. Even the Takua she had faced in Karda Nui had been inexperienced, he’d likely never had to fight against a crowd before, Tempest was experienced and powerful, but that power was damaged, unwieldy, and she had no experience facing opponents like these. She’d left a novice and someone who could only just manage crowd control right now alone.

Tempest’s horn began to spark again and Gorast moved. She leapt and grabbed one of the dark Takua by the shoulder as she passed over his head, yanking him off balance with her momentum before she released him. “Here’s a shot, take it,” she murmured to herself as she landed, containing a wince at how her body protested to the sudden stop.

Tempest took the shot, a lance of blue magic flashing past Gorast’s head to slam into the dark Takua’s mask. His surprised shout was cut short by the boom of Tempest’s unstable power collapsing on itself, exploding out and driving both him and the Mist back.

Gorast’s eyes flashed as she released another Power Scream, not bothering to stay in place longer than it took for the sound to hit home and start its work. She jumped back towards Tempest and her Takua.

“About time you got back,” Tempest snapped at her, ducking behind another of Takua’s Light shields as his dark counterparts recovered enough from their surprise to release volley of Shadow bolts. Gorast considered snapping back, but settled on a vaguely acknowledging grunt.

“I’ll get them on the defensive, you pick them off,” Gorast gave Tempest a sidelong glance. “We’re almost out, we’ll turn this around.”

“The exit’s-” Takua’s voice broke into a grunt as he had to fend off another volley, “-over on the side with the windows.” Gorast gave him a nod and slipped out a gap in his shields, darting back into the mist.

She chose her target and charged, claws spread and ready to tear. He set his stance in preparation and she couldn’t help her vicious grin. She dove to the side at the last second, avoiding another lance that was being swung from behind her. The crack of Tempest’s magic flickered and exploded against her chosen target, driving the mist away as Gorast rose and released another howl, already on the move before it started its work.

She settled easily into a rhythm with Tempest, clashing blades or running down opponents just long enough for Tempest to line up a shot, then finishing them off with a Power Scream and darting away before any of the dark Takua could rally for a counterattack. Time and distance passed quickly, until they could actually see the door out through the mist past the twelve remaining dark Takua.

Her current target had caught wise and raised a Shadow shield between his fight with Gorast and Tempest. Gorast swore as she darted around, three other dark Takua seized the opportunity and charged in to join the fight. She wouldn’t be able to keep moving much longer. Everything was burning and her movements were sloppy.

She braced the armour of her left forearm against a swing and her shoulder let out a crack; though her guard stayed up it was all she could do not to scream. Something had snapped in her shoulder, she dropped beneath the other two swings coming at her, trying to gather herself against the pain radiating out from it as she rolled away.

The Shadow shield suddenly gave way, blinding light blazing across her assailant's bodies. Gorast spared a glance to where the restored Takua stood and blinked. Eight more stood with him, weapons glowing as they covered her and Tempest sent out another blast, catching all four of the dark Takua that had been focusing Gorast down in its radius.

As the mist was pushed away from them, Gorast returned her attention to the task at hand. She unleashed a longer Power Scream, spreading it across all four of them before the mist could mute it.

She was panting, fighting every inch of her body as she kept moving, her left hands were starting to go numb and limp, whatever she’d just broken was important; her legs burned with the effort of another charge and her lungs were stinging at her with every breath; but they were close, if she could just keep going a little longer, could just make it to the next target.

As her focus narrowed something blindsided her, it impacted across the side of her face, sending stars flashing through her vision and driving her down to the ground on her back.

“That’s far more than enough of that,” Tridax’ voice spat as a weight settled on her chest. Her vision was still swimming with spots, it was taking too long to recover. Perhaps she really had pushed herself too hard.

The first thing she could make out was an orange glow hanging over her head, Tridax’ lantern, no doubt it was his foot on her chest. She snarled, but it was weak and hissing, damned wetware. “Anybody moves and she loses the only viable vessel for kios,” Tridax continued. Gorast scoffed and took a swing towards the orange light with her right arms, her left weren’t responding at all now for some reason.

She couldn’t hold in the howl of pain that tore its way out of her this time as something dug deep into her right shoulder. Her vision cleared as she writhed under the pressure on her chest, her left arms twitching to join the right scrabbling at the haft of the spear embedded in her torso. Looking up she saw Tridax leering down at her for all of a second before his face twisted in shock.

“Blood?” He gaped at her, her gaze flicked down to where his spear was set into her body, dark green fluid bubbled up around it, leaking down her shoulder and onto the ground, liquid Antidermis, her blood. “What didn’t you give up for The Plan?”

“My Duty,” she growled up at him, stronger now, more sure, she glared at him with all the defiance she could muster.

A wistful, amused sort of smile flitted across his face before he spoke, his patronizing voice dripping with false pity.

“Not even that, then.”

Then the door behind him exploded inwards.

______

The maneuver Antroz had shown them for the purification of those tainted by the Shadow Leeches was a tricky one to pull off, to say the least.

Luna pulled her wings in tight as she corkscrewed away from a bolt of shadow. She let her momentum carry her towards her target, her horn flashing with power as she readied the first spell. She released it and snapped her wings open, slowing herself just enough to not get caught in the ensuing blast. The dark Takua reeled back as the mist was cast aside and she entered the newly formed bubble. The second spell was launched in the space of a blink as she swooped past, a sonic blast surging forth from her horn and making its mark across the dark Takua’s body.

She was already wheeling back into the sky before the mist swallowed up her collapsed foe. She flew low over the buildings, searching for her next opponent and doing her best to keep watch on the progress below. The mist made it beyond difficult, even from above, but she could make out the hulking shapes of the dark Takua and flashes of Light and magic below.

They had made commendable progress through the morning, though, steadily forcing their way through Tridax’ forces. Assisted in no small part by the fact that once cleansed of the Shadow Leech’s dark influence the Toa were all too eager to assist them in defeating their tainted brothers. With patience and their help, the center of the shrouded town was beginning to take shape in the fog.

A grand building had been placed down where this town’s meeting hall had once been. It reminded almost of a cathedral merged with a factory. Great, ridged spires rose high off the sides of the main building, each ending in a hole from which billowed forth clouds of the silencing mist. It was hard to make out further detail from this distance, yet Luna was disquieted by the idea of flying ahead of the main forces.

She spotted the flitting forms of Antroz and Mutran flying their way across the rooftops opposite her. It had been decided that other than Princess Twilight, those who could fly among them would survey the higher grounds and prevent the dark Takua from gaining an advantage of position.

Luna spotted one of their foes hauling himself up onto a rooftop, but Antroz had already swerved to intercept him before she could react. She lost Antroz’ smaller form in the mist, but caught the flash of light brown energy preceding an explosion that would render his target vulnerable. Luna nodded grimly to herself. With his sight restored, Antroz was an even more formidable presence than he had been before, his performative confidence lacked its previous fragility, and he responded with a fluidity that before had been marred by hesitation.

Vamrah was nowhere to be seen, but that was nothing less than expected. He was the sort to blend into the chaos of a battle, only appearing when he struck and gone before any could draw him to attention. The difference between the manner with which Vamprah moved and carried himself blind and Antroz had was enormous enough that Luna had to wonder if Vamprah hadn’t been blinded long before his brothers, or perhaps even born that way.

The air took on a worrying edge on the final approach, a heavy scent of acidic honeysuckle draping itself about her as surely as the fog. Black Magic, a powerful sort at that.

She swooped down low beneath the buildings, Twilight Sparkle was better at identifying magics than she, they would need to confer before entering to be best prepared.

Luna cast a shield as she approached, gutted as the Shadow Toa’s ranks were, they had not shown any sign of a break in their resolve. She had to commend this Takua for his strength of will, as the restored Toa of Light shared in it. Those among them who carried themselves with the surety of experience were proving themselves excellent vanguards, gathering the attention of their former allies and ensuring the guards had clean shots to take by engaging the dark Toa with skill and power. The Takua who’s hands shook with anxiety each time a strike almost made its mark remained close to the crowd of ponies, shields of Light protecting those that had freed them from Tridax’ influence, frightened but standing their ground.

It was directly behind one of these shields, shouting directions as loudly as she could to be heard through the mist, that Luna found Twilight Sparkle.

“Left side, they’re pushing!” Twilight turned her head back forwards, her eyes were afraid but her voice was steady and sure, Luna nodded in approval. “We’re almost there, just a little further!”

“Twilight,” Luna landed next to her, Twilight jumped a little and let out a huff.

“Yes? Sorry, you startled me.”

“T’is of no concern, Twilight.” Luna scanned the area ahead of them, “nay, we may have greater concerns, do you smell that?” Twilight stopped for a moment and sniffed at the air.

“That’s…” she took another deep breath, “oh no. Hatred level Black Magic. Where is that coming from?” Luna gestured ahead with a wing.

“The intensity increases the closer we approach, t’is coming from the foul structure Tridax hast summoned from his world.” Twilight swallowed.

Vamprah seemed to materialize out of the mist at Luna’s side, a slight prickling of the paranoia he carried with him afore he appeared all that kept her from jumping as Twilight had. “Vamprah, any sign of your sister?” She asked, turning to face him but keeping her attention to the front so she could keep track of what was happening.

He gestured up towards the great foreign building, “inside? How can you tell?” He tapped at the side of his mask, his eyes shimmering brighter crimson for a moment. He could feel her mind. “How does she fare?” His expression darkened and he shook his head, not well then.

Luna turned back to Twilight, “we must hurry, Vamprah has located Makuta Gorast; she is within, and injured.” She glanced to Vamprah, “does she fight still?” He nodded. “Then make haste, help us clear the way as quickly as we can.” His wings snapped open and he launched himself skyward, melting away into the mist once more. They were close, just a little longer.

They clawed their way forwards as quickly as they could, the Makuta and Luna harassing the Shadow Toa from above while on the ground Twilight, the guards, and the Toa cleared them away. Soon they stood before the grand front windows and door of the building, a sparse few of the corrupted Toa remaining to block the way.

The taste of Black Magic had faded from the air in the time it had taken them to get this close, curious, but a mystery for once all was said and done. Yet even without it a feeling of dread sat coiled in Luna’s gut.

Makuta Antroz landed between the Shadow Toa and the gathered forces come to defeat them. He stood tall and barked out a command in his tongue, gesturing from his allies to the building behind them. The Shadow Toa glanced between each other for a moment, defeat imminent but tension mounting.

A scream.

A howl of terrible pain erupted from the building behind them, echoing as nothing but Tridax’ voice had in the fog, Gorast’s voice. It pulled at her even as it stunned all others into stillness, setting the Darkness of her swirling mane coiling and snapping. A strange, possessive urge filled her, spurring her forwards before anyone else could move.

She charged, wings flared and horn trailing power. The Shadow Toa rallied and braced themselves, firing off bolts of shadow towards her as she crossed the space. She jumped and pushed with her wings, flying over their attack and picking up speed. She had to get past them, there wasn’t time. Her power erupted as she reached their midst, scattering the corrupted Toa on a wave of shadow magic. She landed in front of the door and gathered power, catching a snippet of Tridax’ voice from the other side.

“-even that, then.”

She released a blast of magic against the door. It crumpled like paper, exploding inward with a great, dull boom. She heard Tridax shout from within and entered at a run, the sounds of further battle breaking out behind her.

The mist was pushed back and away from the door when it was blasted in, leaving a puddle of clear air in which Tridax stood, hunched over Gorast’s prone form, his spear sticking out of Gorast’s chest. Gorast was still struggling, however weakly it was enough to set Luna’s teeth on edge with a mixture of relief and fury.

The smell of Black Magic hung heavy in the air inside, but she ignored that for the moment. Gathering her power once more to her horn she pressed the advantage of catching the fiend off guard. To risk him tearing the blade out of Gorast’s chest and wounding her further was unthinkable, so her first strike was to the back of his hand holding the spear. A jolt of magical lightning lanced out at him, striking his hand. He released the weapon with a gasp and jerked away before wheeling to face her.

The Shadow around her hissed and writhed at the sight of him, whispering of how he trespassed in her domain. The Makuta were hers, he had no right.

“Who do you think you ar-” Tridax’ voice caught in his throat as the mist closed back in around them, his expression caught in awestruck terror. Luna blinked and the fury lifted; her mind stilled, and with it the Darkness around her fell quiet. He was disarmed and frightened, to drive him back would be simple work. “Who are you?” His voice was small this time, free of the keening derision he heaped upon every word she’d heard him speak thus far. She could work with that.

“I am Princess Luna of Equestria,” she took a step forwards, letting the dark, star studded mass of her mane and tail float out into the air around her, “Mistress of the Night,” he took a step back as the miasma of void began to reach for him, “Warden of Dreams,” she marched forth, steadily backing him away from Gorast’s panting form, “and Guardian in the Dark.” She felt movement next to her and called her mane back to herself.

Antroz shot past her head like a bullet, tackling Tridax with a hand around his throat. Antroz’ eyes swam with grey and an almost neon blue; the air around him shimmering with heat as a glowing orb matching the blue in his eyes materialized in his free hand. The guards streamed into the building around her. She turned her attention from Tridax to tend to Gorast and the spell over him broke.

“Hah! You found a Kraahkan!” He laughed, “I’m impressed. Guess I’m still Makuta somewhere in here after all.” He nodded to Antroz’ hand around the blue orb, “if I try to get away that’s going into my head, isn’t it?”

Luna focused her attention on Gorast. Her expression was twisted in agony, poorly hidden beneath a weak attempt at fury. Her body was twitching weakly, trying to force her upright but neither sets of her arms would support her weight. Luna’s brow creased and she gently pressed a hoof to the ridge above Gorast’s brow.

“Be still, your injuries are great,” she murmured low as not to startle her. Gorast tensed, only relaxing back down to lay flat under the force of Luna’s insistent touch after a hiccuping breath forced its way out of her. She shuddered regardless, her claws still scratched restlessly at the floor; weaker, slower on the left side as if she was having to force those to move at all. Her armour was disjointed and loose about her chest, angry green veins pulsing in the black flesh beneath, and across her left forearms her armour was dented almost flat.

Luna lit her horn, calling on a pain nullification spell she’d not used in an age and letting it wash over Gorast’s still softly shaking form. Her breathing slowed, the pain on her face slowly unwinding. “Calm yourself, Noble Gorast, you hath done well, we can push forth from here.”

“Tempest,” Gorast forced out, moving to push herself up again, “I need to-” her voice cut off as her limbs collapsed beneath her again, leaving her still forced onto her back. Luna extended a wing, resting her feathers against Gorast’s chest.

“We will retrieve Tempest, thou must rest.” Luna insisted, catching a slowly softening glare from Gorast in return.

“I’m here,” Luna glanced up to see Tempest Shadow stepping out of the mist, one of the purified Takua at her back. Tempest’s gaze was still scanning, keen yet belied by the exhaustion her heaving breaths showed. By contrast, the purified Takua at her back’s gaze was focused entirely on Gorast. “We made it, Gorast, you need to rest.”

“This is why you don’t run off on your own,” Mutran’s voice sounded behind Luna. Gorast scoffed and turned her head away. “I don’t even know if I can fix all of this without killing you,” Mutran tsked and reached over Luna’s shoulder, grabbing onto the haft of the spear still embedded in Gorast’s shoulder. Gorast hissed in response, her eyes closing tight, Luna turned to give Mutran a scolding glare. “Just checking,” he murmured, having the decency to look chastened as he removed his hand. Luna took a deep breath.

“And?”

“And it’s in there nice and tight,” Mutran moved like he was about to tap the spear, but his movement faltered and changed course at another glare from Luna. “It hasn’t gone through the supports for her arm, but it might be embedded in them so while we can remove it without taking her arm off someone is going to have to hold her down while we do or it’s not coming out.”

“I can take it out mysel-”

“Nay, you cannot,” Luna interrupted her firmly, “the battle is done, Gorast, allow us to tend to you.” Gorast snarled and looked around, only to find Luna, Tempest, Takua, and Mutran’s expressions troubled. She glanced over to where Antroz still had Tridax pinned, Luna followed her gaze to find Antroz glaring back. He gave her a nod.

“Fine,” she growled and let herself lay flat. Mutran crouched next to her, looking over her wounds carefully.

“You snapped some of the supports in your left shoulder, didn’t you?” She growled out a vague affirmative. He poked at the back of one of her left hands, she didn’t react. “Broke some of the sensory receivers in there, too.” He looked up at the purified Takua nervously hovering about and said something in their tongue, gesturing to Gorast. The Takua hesitated until Gorast added something.

Takua kneeled down and offered Gorast the haft of his spear, she locked her teeth around it. Mutran began pressing the blunt sides of his claws against Gorast’s abdomen. Gorast’s breathing started coming harder, her brow twitching in pain. Luna began to gather the pain cancelling spell anew but Mutran raised his other hand for her to wait.

“She’s bloated,” he murmured as his claws continued to explore, “which means she’s bleeding somewhere inside, too. If she doesn’t react when I press on it I won’t be able to tell what’s damaged.” Luna nodded, but kept the spell ready. It was a few moments longer before he pressed on a spot in her left side just under her chest and she howled into the haft of the spear braced in her teeth, the metal of it creaking under the force of her jaws. “There it is.”

He drew back, looking her over again. “I don’t know if I can help with this. She’s already exhausted, our Quick Healing requires energy from our bodies, and the sunlight is too muted by the fog for her to gather enough of it to fuel the repairs, not to mention the regression to biotech she's stuck with is more energy intensive to begin with. If I tried to fix all of this right now it would starve her out.” Gorast tried to huff around the spear, but it came out more of an embittered cough. Mutran’s eyes flicked up to the Takua still standing over Gorast. “Unless…”

“Unless?” Luna pressed, only for Mutran to ignore her, shooting off another quick phrase in his native tongue to the Takua. Surprise flicked across the Toa’s features before his brow set in resolution and he said something back.

Mutran nodded and kept speaking in his native tongue, holding out a hand. Takua took his hand and was guided to hold it in front of the stinger on Gorast’s chin. Gorast threw the both of them a suspicious look and the Toa spoke, a shaky sort of smile on his face. She huffed, setting her head back against the floor.

“That numbing spell will be greatly appreciated,” Mutran said as his eyes began to glow blue and yellow. Luna hesitated, but lowered her horn to touch Gorast’s chest, allowing the spell to flow through her body. Gorast let out a long breath as her body relaxed under the influence of the spell. Takua drove his forearm down against the spike, hissing between his teeth, and Mutran grabbed the spear, yanking it out of Gorast’s shoulder with a quick movement and pressing a hand over the open wound left behind.

The blue glow of Mutran’s power spread out from his hand as Takua’s white armour began to dim, grey creeping up his arm and turning to black around his fingers and pauldrons. His mask shone weakly, sputtering as Takua’s face screwed up in concentration. A grisly snapping sound emanated from several places within Gorast’s body, each of them twitching as it did despite the magic numbing them.

“Tempest?” Twilight swooped down through the opening, landing next to Tempest, who nodded firmly. “Did Gorast get you out?”

“With a bit of help,” she responded, nodding towards the right side of the hall, “I know where the townsfolk are being kept, come on, and bring somebody who can do that sound spell.” Twilight nodded back, following Tempest.

Takua yelped as the Shadow reached his mask, his eyes wide as it spread across it. He yelled through clenched teeth as he tried to hold firm a little longer. Luna turned the spell’s attention to him, hoping it would hold out across two people. He jerked back with a gasp, no hole appearing in his arm where Gorast’s stinger had entered, Mutran removed his hand shortly thereafter, grumbling to himself. “You should be held together now.”

Takua’s armour returned to white and gold after a few seconds as Gorast forced herself into a sitting position.

“Art you well?” Luna asked, letting her horn fall dark. Gorast huffed, winding her arms back together, opening and closing her left hand a couple times.

“Better… thank you.” She shook her head, standing a tad unsteadily.

“Good,” Antroz’ voice cut through the air, Luna turned to look at him. “Now then, Tridax, you have a fogbank to get rid of and some explaining to do.” He forced Tridax back to his feet, keeping one hand around his throat and gently tossing the glowing orb in his other.

Tridax’ expression twisted in frustration for a few moments before his shoulders sagged.

“Fine, I know when I’m beaten.” He threw Antroz a bitter glare, “you’re not letting go, are you?”

“Not for a second,” Antroz snapped back. “First, what in Mata Nui’s name happened to you?” Tridax’ shoulders came back up as he bristled under the attention.

“I told you! Your precious-” he shook his head firmly. “You know what? You want me to clear the fog, I have records that can show you what happened without me losing my temper and getting a ball of plasma shoved down my throat.” Tridax’ upward face let out a wheeze that sounded distinctly amused, “stop that, damn you.”

He raised his lantern to his mandibles before speaking. “All remaining troops stand down.” His voice seemed to boom through the air, almost as if it came from the mist itself. “We won’t be interrupted, my computer is in the back wall here.” He gestured to the other side of the expansive front hall of the building.

“Not good enough, send them home.” Tridax opened his mouth to protest, but the blue in Antroz’s eyes glowed brighter, the orb in his hand hissing against the air around it. Tridax groaned.

“Fine, just, don’t let him touch anything.”

“Him?” Antroz started just before Tridax’ head rotated ninety degrees with a sound like snapping gristle, making Luna and several others flinch at the sound, the apelike face now facing forwards. The already wide grin spread as the new face rolled its jaw, rubbing at the exposed hinge of it.

“Whoo!” It shouted, stretching out the body’s arms. “They really don’t give you Makuta enough credit in the whole mental fortitude department, Tridax really knows how to keep a guy down once he’s got em.” Antroz crooked an eyebrow, tightening his grip on the back of Tridax’ neck.

“And you are?” Antroz sighed.

“Vezon, ex-FoF agent.” He puffed out his chest slightly.

“FoF?” Antroz asked, his voice as much bemused as it was cautious.

“Federation of Fear?” Vezon said, deflating a bit at the lack of recognition in Antroz’ eyes, “we were the Order of Mata Nui’s suicide squad.”

“The Order doesn’t do suicide missions,” Gorast spat, “Helryx doesn’t so much as lift a finger unless she knows it’ll get results.”

“Wow, the seven of you really are out of the loop,” Vezon chuckled, “course, it’s been like six months since everything went down and Tridax hadn’t heard from you until you all rammed maskfirst into this gross little dirtball.” Vezon shot Luna a look that was half amused half revolted.

The golden face began to pulse with light, Antroz brought the blue orb closer to Vezon’s face. “Whoa, whoa, he’s just doing what you told him to, there’s a lot of these meatheads running around.” The orb was pulled back again, “I’m crazy but I’m not stupid, give me some more credit than that.”

The Takua that had helped heal Gorast stepped up behind her, giving Gorast a soft pat on the shoulder and saying something in their language. Vezon cackled, “wow, never thought I’d see a Toa of Light getting chummy with a Makuta.” The Takua looked over to him, a puzzled expression crossing his face before he was swallowed up by a flash of golden light and vanished.

“Tridax spoke of being as a parasite upon you,” Luna said, drawing the creature’s attention. His eyes were strangely dull for one from the Makuta’s world, almost seeming flat in his face. “What did he mean?”

“Exactly what he said, we’re stuck together cause I got his mask fuzed to the back of my head with him inside.” The mandibles of Tridax’ upward facing mask clicked in annoyance but Tridax himself remained silent. “The Order incinerated the rest of him right before the place came down around my ears.”

“Why did he call us traitors?” Antroz pressed now that this Vezon had made himself a viable method of gathering information. The flashes of light from Tridax’ mask slowed as Vezon began to laugh, long, loud and wheezing. He almost doubled over with it, clutching at his stomach.

“Hoo, boy, this is going to be a show,” he choked out between guffaws. “Tridax is gonna have to fill ya in on that one, I’m just gonna sit back and enjoy.” Tridax’ head turned again, silencing Vezon and letting Tridax glare at the lot of them.

“If we could, now? It’s going to be beyond difficult to get all of them back, I’ll have you know.”

“You’re not getting them back,” Antroz snapped, his ire obviously roiling beneath the surface, “now hurry up.” Tridax murmured something under his breath but led them to the back of the room.

The mist was held back in a line a good distance from the back wall, letting them all see clearly for the first time since entering it. The back wall was dominated by three great glass panels above a machine that similarly stretched across the wall, covered in buttons with various unfamiliar symbols on them. Vamprah slipped close to Luna’s side, his brow furrowed. There was a tension, a dread choking the air more effectively than the mist ever had.

Tridax approached the machine and pressed several of the buttons in rapid succession. The glass panels came to life, glowing with more symbols before two of them went blank, glowing faintly while the one in the middle displayed several strings of the symbols. Tridax sighed and pressed his hand to a space in the middle of the machine.

“Review emergency communications log,” he said. The machine let out a hiss and the two screens that had been blank flared back to life as all three of them changed to display armoured creatures that Luna could only assume were other Makuta. “I went back after I took control of this idiot’s body to recover my research, Destral was in complete ruins, everyone was dead, and this was recorded by what was left of my equipment, along with a dozen other distress messages all sent at the same time. Computer, play last three logs.”

The three images all began moving at once, sounding off in concert.

“This is the Brotherhood base on Stelt-”

“-Daxia-”

“-Artidax, we are under attack. Come in Destral, repeat, we are under attack.” All three were silent for a long moment as the images shook and a low rumbling sound came through. Two of the Makuta just watched through the glass with frightened expressions, but the third kept speaking. “It’s raining fire out there, Tridax; pick up, you self absorbed Skakdi, we’re being slaughtered!

A low roar of a laugh echoed from all three, causing them to look up, their eyes flashing with hope. “Teridax?” They called in concert, “thank the Great Beings, help us-”

“-Then the Plan-”

“-You can stop whatever’s happening out there!”

Luna glanced to the Makuta, Gorast’s expression had lifted, a triumphant, if longing, smile on her face. Vamprah’s expression was grim to match Antroz’, and Mutran seemed confused more than anything.

“And why would I help you?” Teridax’ voice rumbled, Gorast flinched at the same moment as the three Makuta in the images, her mouth drifting open in disbelief. “Your services are no longer required.”

“But, you promised!”

“Fools, did you honestly think I would share this,” all three images shook violently, sending the Makuta sprawling to the ground. “With pathetic, lowly creatures like you? Especially now that any of you could follow in my footsteps and overthrow me?” He laughed again, “I have ascended beyond anything, especially you petty degenerates; and I refuse to have that threatened by creatures like you.”

“Please, spare me!” The image on the right pleaded, rising to his knees and bowing low to the ground. “I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” Teridax chuckled, the image on the left’s face began to twist in fury while the image in the middle’s expression went slack in disbelief, the walls around all three of them began leaning in.

“Anything, my Makuta,” the image on the right spoke again.

“Then perish.” Teridax spat, the walls around the three Makuta hurtling for them.

“Brother!”

“Traitor!”

“Mercy!” All three of the images went black. There was a moment of stunned silence.

“They all go something like that.” Tridax broke the silence, throwing a glare over his shoulder. “You seven were his most trusted, somehow you’re alive when everyone else is dead, and you expect me to believe you didn’t know?” Antroz released Tridax and stepped back, his eyes fading to red, obviously at a loss for words.

Mutran’s eyes were wide, his hands shaking; Vamprah stood more still than Luna had ever seen him, the feeling of his mind gone.

“It’s- it’s not true, it can’t-” Gorast sputtered, shaking her head, her expression twisted somewhere between rage and grief. “No, nono, no…” She curled in on herself, “he promised. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t…”

“He can and he did,” Tridax sneered, “you of all people, Gorast? With how many of our brothers and sisters you slaughtered-”

His voice cut out as Gorast’s head snapped to focus on him. Luna’s shadows roared in her ears, grief the likes of which she’d only felt once before howled out from where Gorast stood.

“Lair!” She screamed, pouncing at Tridax. He yelped and dove out of the way, Antroz stepped forwards again to put himself between Gorast and Tridax, but he needn’t have bothered. Gorast fell upon the machine with a savagery unheard of, screaming and howling as she tore at the machine with her claws. The panes above went dark as the machine sparked and sputtered.

She reared back and brought both of her arms down on it again and again, everyone took a step back, all too frightened or shocked to say anything as she continued to ravage it. Her eyes shimmered with red and black as she howled, power rippling off her form as her screams smashed whatever part of the machine she couldn’t reach with just her hands. The sounds of anguish, shattering glass, and twisting metal filled the air. The glass panes were shattered by her cries, falling to the ground around her in a shower of sparks and broken glass.

The remains of the machine smoldered and still she raged on, shaking her head wildly as she screamed and tore at the machine’s remains. Mutran stepped forwards and grabbed at one of her arms as she pulled back to bash the computer again, but she turned and kicked at him, sending him flying back into the mist with a shout before she returned her attention to the mess of mangled metal in front of her.

“Gorast, stop!” Tridax managed to recover, regaining his footing. “All of my research is in the-” his voice died in his throat again as she turned to face them. Her eyes were wide, almost feral, tinged with green around the edges and streaming purple smoke around her head. “Or, you can- ah!” Gorast lunged for him.

Luna was finally able to force herself to move, throwing herself at Gorast and catching her around the middle. It wasn’t enough to stop her, but it made her miss her mark as Tridax scrambled away. The sound of his head turning rang out again and he vanished in a flash of gold.

“Gorast, please, peace, you’ve forgotten yourself,” Luna gasped out as she struggled to retain her grip. Gorast just snarled and thrashed in response, bracing her arms against Luna to try and force her off. “Gorast!” Luna’s vision flashed with stars as Gorast pounded a forearm into her face. As she tried to reorient herself Gorast’s claws wrapped around her barrel, digging into Luna’s skin as he was torn off of Gorast’s side and thrown away. Luna couldn’t stop the yelp that forced its way out of her as she felt Gorast's talons rake through her skin.

The wound was minor, considering the rage that Gorast was in, but as she landed it burned nonetheless. She regained her footing and looked back to Gorast to find her panting, the streaming smoke of Black Magic gone from her eyes. Gorast’s entire body shook as she stared blankly out at nothing.

“Gorast,” Antroz stepped forwards, holding out a hand placatingly.

“Get away from me,” she murmured, swatting away his hand and snarling at him.

“Gorast please,” Luna said softly, Gorast’s eyes drifted to her, then to the gashes she’d left along Luna’s side. Gorast flinched back, the Darkness snarling as she gathered it to herself.

“I said get. Away. From me!” She roared, blackness erupting out from where she stood, blinding Luna and the others. A crash sounded out and by the time Luna and the other Makuta were able to bring the raging Darkness back under control, Gorast had vanished.

End of Act 1

Author's Note

I'm sorry this one took so long, I really wanted this to be the last chapter of the Act but there was just so much going on that I needed to tie up before we could move on to the next so it ended up being over three times my usual chapter size, despite how long it's taken I have been working almost non-stop on this chapter. However, I'm very happy with the way this one turned out.

This fic is going to go on hiatus for the next few months, as Act II: Anger is going to have even more happening, and I'm actually going to have to write an entirely separate fic for one of the characters in that act because otherwise it'll be a good six chapters that's pretty disconnected from the rest of it. I'll also be putting up some intermission type things about how Twilight's been studying the Makuta's powers during Act II. All in all, it's just going to be a lot of work and I'm going to need a break to get myself situated before it starts.

Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this work so far, I hope to deliver better with coming chapters.

Act I: Hunger: Clarity

Antroz braced himself, swearing under his breath as he tried to pinpoint where Takua would impact. He was the weak link, blind and unsure of himself in the faint aura of Silence he sensed in this place, he would be the target. He cursed Tridax as he threw himself to the side, hoping he’d judged correctly, whatever Tridax had done he’d tuned his Silence power just strong enough to be disorienting without muting himself.

He heard a weak clatter of metal across ice to his left and let himself grin slightly. Even if he couldn’t quite pin down where his opponent was, he had enough combat sense to fight back.

His hands flew down to the sickles at his sides, pulling them up and giving his wings a flap to change course, drawing the talon-like blades up to try and slash at where he figured Takua’s wrists would be. Gorast and Mutran let out battle cries, Antroz flinched; if he misjudged his movement he ran the risk of hitting his allies. He was committed to the movement, though and followed through, only to feel his blades slide through air instead of his opponent’s armour. That flinch had cost him whatever opening he’d had.

“Karzahni,” he cursed, dancing back, he felt the brush of protosteel against his chest plate as he did, the claws of it shuddering dangerously around the pod beneath. He heard the others begin to engage Takua, the muffled sound of metal on metal ringing without echo. Unfamiliar sounds joined the fray, likely the magic of the Equestrians. He grit his fangs, this was infuriating, he could do little more than stay out of the way, unless.

He cast out his mind, he’d never honed this for combat or navigation the way Vamprah had, there was no direction given by his telepathy, but if he could just push into someone else’s mind. He felt a kernal of consciousness, one brimming with power. Antroz didn’t waste any time, shoving his way into Twilight’s mind without heed for the cry of surprise he heard over the skirmish.

“Princess, I need access to your eyes, now.” He commanded, letting his impatience press heavy on Twilight’s mind to mask the panic he felt starting to itch at his edges. This muffling made it impossible to tell distance, only direction, and Takua could be on him again at any moment.

“Okay, hurry!” Twilight shouted, her discomfort rubbing against Antroz’ consciousness as Antroz got to see through her eyes, but dulled by something that almost felt like regret

Antroz let out a faint noise of panic, Twilight had her eyes on Takua’s back, and the Toa was right on top of Antroz, tri-pronged spear poised to run him through. He leapt to the side again, and into the arc of Takua’s swing, his expression twitched as he realized that in his haste to escape he’d taken Twilight’s right for his own. He cut himself off from Twilight’s’s mind, not wanting to have to watch Takua tear through him.

Another of those strange noises ripped through the air in front of him, for a moment dispelling the veil of Silence and letting the sound of crumpling armour echo. Heat flashed in its wake and Antroz felt himself lifted off his feet by the blast, flaring out his wings to keep his balance as he came back down.

Before the Silence was able to swoop back in he heard the ruffle of feathers and hooves step between him and where Takua last stood. The Silence re-established its hold as Twilight Sparkle’s voice carried to him.

“Antroz, are you alright?” She asked. Antroz blinked, frozen momentarily as he faintly heard Gorast snarl and Takua shout in surprise.

“I would have lived,” he said, trying to reorient himself to no avail. Under the weak Silence he couldn’t even say for certain that she was still near him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Twilight said back, hesitating a moment. “Come on, stick close to me and use my eyes.” Antroz shook his head to clear his thoughts, he would press her more about that later. For now, he let his mind reconnect with hers, catching a brief flicker of her scolding herself for something before he focused in on sharing her eyes.

The world came into focus again in shades of grey and flashes of colour. He finally got to see what had been deafening him, the haze of fog around them weakly buzzed with power, deadening sounds. Twilight looked towards Takua and the others in the middle of it and Antroz was reminded of the sheer size of the Toa.

He easily stood head and shoulders over Mutran and Gorast was no taller to him than Twilight herself was to Antroz as he tore Gorast off of his back and threw her at Mutran, forcing Mutran to jump out of the way. His face under the sleek swoops of his mask and his pauldrons both snarled as Luna swooped by, a lance of magic glancing off of Takua’s raised spear.

As Mutran got to his feet Takua raised the Skyblaster attached to his right forearm and let loose a volley of shadow bolts. Mutran’s eyes flashed blue as he dodged out of the way, one of the bolts punching its way through his wing but the hole sealed itself almost instantly.

Antroz put his hand on Twilight’s head to keep her from jumping to join the fray and let him control the angle of her gaze, he felt a slight flash of annoyance from her at that but he couldn’t be bothered with it, he needed to think. Given a second to breathe and a view of the situation, Antroz was able to think about this more logically.

The warmth from Twilight’s spell was the first trace of the unbearable heat that normally accompanied battles against Light wielders. Light power was essentially a trump card against Makuta, so why wouldn’t Takua be using it?

Antroz pushed Twilight’s head to the side to see the shadow and pinprick of light that the mist had reduced Tridax’ form to. Takua was working with Tridax- no, he was being commanded by Tridax. It clicked into place, Takua hadn’t blasted them with Light yet because he couldn’t. Tridax had somehow managed to suck the Light out of him properly, something not even Vamprah’s mastery of the Avsa, Mask of Hunger allowed him to do.

And that meant all they had to do was break Tridax’ hold.

Gorast leapt for Takua’s mask as Mutran and Princess Luna tried to hold his attention with attacks from either side, darkness and swirling magic slamming against the pools of shadow Takua raised to defend himself. As Vamprah pounced from the shadows, claws aimed to take out Takua’s heels a pained look flashed across Takua’s face and his mask began to glow.

It was like a bomb. Light blasted out in every direction, scattering both Mutran’s and Takua’s darkness, the blasts of offensive magic Luna had been attacking with couldn’t hold against the heat and melted away under the onslaught. Gorast howled as she was blasted away and Vamprah slipped back into the mist to try and find a new angle. The Silence lost its hold again, pushed away with the mist by the explosion of unstable, incredibly unhappy if the acrid taste in Antroz’ mouth was anything to go by, power.

Antroz released Twilight’s head as Gorast landed on her feet, singed and smoking around the edges but intact. Takua came out of the blast swinging, similarly singed around the shoulders but not losing a step as he launched himself at a dazzled Mutran.

Antroz jumped, batting Takua’s spear out of the way with one of his sickles and burying the other in Takua’s wrist to force it out of his grip. Twilight winced in sympathy as Takua howled in pain but kept his grip on the weapon. Antroz swore at the narrowing of his viewport and yanked his sickle back, kicking Takua in the chest to try and push him away. This was going to be difficult, he’d always had his borrowed eyes riding on his back, close enough to his own head that he wouldn’t have to compensate for the difference, but this was going to be an entirely new beast.

“Gorast, Klakk!” Antroz shouted as the mist began to close back in. Gorast wasted a precious second glancing at him in confusion before it clicked and her eyes swam with red and black. The mist closed back over them all as she planted her stance and let out a screech. Even in the deadening fog it was still enough to make Antroz and Twilight’s ears both ring, but it was too diminished to do its job. The Power Scream impacted across Takua’s chestplate, sending him reeling back but leaving it dark, not a trace of his imperious gold returning.

“Hah!” Tridax cackled at them from the mist, “you think I wouldn’t take precaution against that? Mutran may have made the Leeches but I’m the one who tested them!” Antroz turned his head to throw Mutran a glare. Mutran just shrugged.

“I had more important things to do, like tweaking the next batch.” Mutran huffed, Antroz grit his teeth. Twilight turned her eyes as Takua rallied for another attack, his hands swirling with darkness and his eyes feral with rage.

Antroz narrowed his own eyes and was about to call for someone to blast away the mist again when he felt a warmth bloom on his back. There was a flash of panic, had someone gotten behind him? He couldn’t see anyone through Twilight, what was that?

“Fall back!” Twilight shouted, relief shooting through her, “we’re getting out of here.” Antroz felt himself shoved out of Twilight’s mind as power surged through it. Takua swore and shouted as his voice receded into the mist.

“No!” He heard Gorast shout, “I’m going to tear this liar’s head off!” He felt her shove past him and flailed in a failed attempt to try and grab onto her. Even just a few seconds of sight had thrown his sense of his surroundings out of order without it.

“Gorast!” He shouted after her, to no response.

“Don’t let them escape,” Tridax commanded. Antroz heard another shimmer of unfamiliar power, followed by dozens of small explosions and a pained grunt from Princess Luna. He felt a comfortable, calming force take a hold of him and pull him back.

“Just how many of them are there?” He heard Twilight shout in disbelief as explosions continued to go off, but found himself floundering. How many whats? What had just happened? Terror gripped him again, no one was struggling, if they’d managed to retrieve Gorast she would have been struggling.

“Gorast!” He roared again, pushing forwards he misjudged his footing and fell forwards, Mutran’s arm coming up to catch him around the waist. “Gorast, get back here!”

“No time!” Twilight shouted over the continued pounding. He felt power surge around them again and sound returned to him. He heard more people than before moving and breathing around him. Echoes had returned, they were out of the mist.

Antroz forced himself to his feet, shaking his head as he tried to take stock of the situation, he heard the Captain’s voice addressing Twilight but he couldn’t resist the panic that had built through the brief skirmish.

“What happened, what does Tridax have? Where’s Gorast?” He demanded, standing tall as he could. This was bad, this was beyond bad. Why had Tridax called them traitors? Had they really sent out what might as well have been a beacon when they landed? Had they just left Gorast to deal with whatever army Tridax has mustered alone? He knew nothing, and that terrified him; this was shaping up to become a proper battle, he needed information and he needed it now.

He rounded on where he knew Mutran would still be standing from having helped Antroz steady himself and grabbed him by his chestplate. “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Mutran shouted, grabbing at Antroz’ hand and trying to pull it off of him, “I never completed the machine, I couldn’t have told him anything if I’d wanted to!”

“Peace, Makuta,” Princess Luna’s voice cut through the haze of fear and the vicious insult he’d been about to hurl at Mutran. “The fault is mine, I had hold of Lady Gorast but was caught off guard by Tridax’ reinforcements and released her to defend us when Twilight would have easily sufficed.” He felt the siren’s song of her power flit through the air for a moment and felt himself begin to calm. He was smarter than this, he just felt helpless, he’d had to jump through hoops to stay relevant in the fight and had completely lost control of the situation by the end of it.

He closed his eyes and recentered himself. One step at a time, question and answer, he needed to know what was going on and freaking out wasn’t going to help him. He released Mutran’s armour, nodding an apology as he turned back to the ponies.

“What reinforcements?” He asked as levelly as he could.

“It was Takua,” Twilight spoke up, “at least two dozen of him.” Antroz blinked, how would that be possible?

“That was the project Tridax was obsessed with while we were making the Shadow Leeches.” Mutran interjected, tapping some part of his armour. “He wanted to track down every Takua in every reality and bring them under his power with the Leeches. I didn’t think he’d actually succeed though, we figured out early on the more powerful the Light wielder the less effective the Leeches were.”

“Gorast went after Tridax, didn’t she?” Antroz growled, wringing his hands. “As much as she brags about other things she’s never been willing to acknowledge she’s the best distraction out of us. She gets in close and makes herself a problem that needs answering, without her we’re at a distinct disadvantage.” He had to contain a wince; especially here.

“I’m sorry, Antroz,” Twilight said, drawing his attention, “things wouldn’t have gotten this bad if it weren’t for me.”

“Please,” Mutran said dismissively, “whoever that is Tridax is leeching off of has clearly driven him mad, nobody could have made him listen to us.”

“No,” Twilight pressed, “when Antroz was sharing my eyes he was able to come up with a plan that would probably have worked in seconds. You know the way beings from your world work better than I ever could, your mind works more tactically than Mutran or Gorast’s do, and even without being able to see you were able to avoid Takua’s first attack before any of the rest of us could react.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Antroz, if you had been able to see the whole time we might have been able to win that fight.” Antroz cocked his head as he heard Mutran’s hand scrape across his armour.

“That’s… not your fault, Twilight,” Antroz said, “you let me see through you as soon as I asked.”

“But if I’d restored your sight this afternoon like I’d planned I wouldn’t have had to!” She shouted back at him, Antroz blinked, his mind flashing between confusion and anger. If she’d had the ability to do that, why hadn’t she? “I’m sorry- I just- it was too convenient. When we got Tempest’s call I had been about to give you back your eyes. It was supposed to be a gift, to earn your trust properly, but I thought if I’d done it after she called it would look too suspicious, like I’d only done it so you would owe me something and would fight for us, but now Gorast is gone and we were hardly able to hold our own against one Takua, much less an army. I’m sorry,” she finished, her voice small and defeated.

Antroz took a moment to collect himself again. Such naive foolishness, they would have owed her for that regardless and she hesitated to seize a tactical advantage so she could avoid having a social one. It would be infuriating if it didn’t so clearly signal her true intent, only the suicidal would fake something like that and she’d leapt to his defense without hesitation earlier.

He growled under his breath, fine, he would even the score, set this damn thing to rest. It was clear these ponies would be greatly hampered as allies if they were constantly worried about indebting him to them. He held out his hand.

“Restore my eyes and you are forgiven,” he said sternly. “But this is it, no more dance, no more leverage, we’re even. You have no power over us, we have no power over you, it’s clear you’ll be useless unless that’s the case.” There was a moment of silence before Twilight’s hoof met his hand and he felt a rush of power through his body.

“Deal.”

______

Krika threw Chirox a glare out of the corner of his eye, quietly grateful his brother was blind and wouldn’t appreciate it, much less retaliate, instead just continuing to run his fingers over the raised bumps on the sheet of paper in his hand. Krika understood why Antroz had insisted he not be allowed anywhere on his own, which only made it chafe all the more. Especially when Chirox or Mutran were put in charge of him.

They had decided his best use would be as a laboratory assistant and there were few things that turned his proverbial stomach like bearing witness to the abominations those two would plan to create. He counted himself lucky that they had been absorbed in something purely academic as of late, but just being near Chirox made his armour crawl with the memory of what the Visorak Horde could do to a people while his brother stood idle and took notes.

The other Makuta thought Krika a coward for not sharing in their brazen self service, as evidenced by them leaving him with only Chirox to watch over him. Krika quietly rose from his spot next to Chirox; in truth, he simply knew how to pick his battles. The way they looked down on him worked to his advantage, made them think the mere possibility of consequence would be enough to keep him in line but he could recognize when the threat was hollow. Without Antroz or Gorast around he had nothing to fear, it would take Chirox hours to realize he’d left, and hours more to track him down alone.

He had failed to sway the Lunar Princess, tainted and foul as she was, but there was still the Solar. By the time Antroz returned, Krika would ensure he was met with a palace ready for battle. There could be no alternative; he didn’t know the entirety of what his siblings had planned for this world yet, but it was clear they already had an ally in Luna and he could not allow them to impose their will on these innocent people, too trusting and sheltered to be properly wary of them.

Krika’s eyes swirled with yellow, green and grey as he moved towards the door; even impaired as he was, Chirox could be a formidable opponent if he heard Krika moving, and Krika’s healing had been progressing painfully slow, even now his movements were careful and stiff and his Kanohi would likely never grant him its power again. Mutran could recover from just about anything in an instant, but Quick Healing always left the rest of them worse off than whatever injury they were trying to heal, trying to use it on Krika’s wreck of a shell might have killed him.

As he slipped out of the room he glanced up at his destination, the Royal Palace. It was such a grand affair, towering spires perched on the edge of the mountain, bright against the backdrop of dark, glittering night sky. He grit his teeth as he wrenched his eyes back down, shutting the call of the night out of his mind.

How could Princess Celestia allow the Darkness to cling to this place so thoroughly? He scoffed, keeping his eyes low as he made his way through the abandoned streets, Luna must be far more diabolical than she appeared, honeyed words and offers masking her true intent. He shook his head again, but then here it was displayed all across the sky, the unending, all-devouring shades of dark above their heads; was Princess Celestia truly naive enough to be taken in by the paltry, token stars Luna spread across it? Perhaps, she’d apparently forgiven Luna her crimes once before.

One of his claws moved too quickly and he felt a crack run through the street beneath him. He huffed again; Luna must be playing the long game, lulling the other Princesses into a false sense of security so she could strike again at their most vulnerable. In the corner of his eye he noticed a shape flitting through the darkness above, breaking him from his bitter thoughts to watch carefully.

It was following him, whatever it was. He narrowed his eyes and they shimmered with pale yellow, his form blending into his surroundings as he picked up speed, hobbling as quickly as he could towards the castle. He felt his energy reserves dwindling dangerously, he’d been devoting too much to healing his body, the extra strains of silencing his movement and shifting his appearance was eating into his power too fast. He’d have to rest once he arrived, perhaps even wait until the sun rose again.

No, he couldn’t, he didn’t know how long the others would be gone. With any luck, Takanuva would destroy them, but if he didn’t they’d likely come running back with their tails between their legs within twelve hours.

The night called out again, offering its power to him. He glanced up, he wanted to deny it, wanted to say he was better than that, better than them. He heaved a sigh and surrendered, letting the dark power of Luna’s night flow into his body, embracing him closely and making his armour crawl with it. He wasn’t better than them, he was one of them, and nothing could ever change that. He felt his expression harden, that was why he knew best about them.

They were evil, he was evil; and evil cannot be allowed to fester.

Once he arrived at the entrance to the palace he stopped and looked up to the sky, watching the dark for signs of the shape that had been following him. The sky was still beyond the struggle of the stars, waxing and waning against Luna’s dark. With a considering hum Krika let go of his camouflage and slipped inside, he’d lost whoever was trailing him.

The dark armoured night guards flanked every door but he ignored them, they could report back to their true mistress all they liked, by the time she returned it would be too late to salvage her schemes.

“Makuta Krika,” one of them called out to him, drawing his attention. He held down a sneer at the batlike wings and slit eyes of the pony as he gave him a slight, respectful nod. “It’s good to see you around without an escort,” the pony nodded at him, “stronger every day, right?” They gave him a small, encouraging smile.

Krika felt something settle into the pit of his stomach. Was that what Antroz had told them? That he’d been being escorted for his health? That could prove problematic. He offered the guard a smile he hoped was reassuring in some way.

“Yes, I’m feeling much better than when I woke.” The guard glanced down over the rest of Krika’s body, he wasn’t quite steady on his claws, but he wasn’t trembling with the effort of keeping his balance anymore.

“Princess Celestia is expecting you,” the guard gestured down the hall away from the throne room. “She’s retired for the night, but she’d like to see you.” Krika blinked, narrowing his eyes slightly. On the one hand, this was a night guard, servant of Luna, who knows what instructions she had left him. On the other, if he was telling the truth Krika couldn’t risk offending Celestia, not when he likely already did that purely on principle. He steeled himself, he’d have to take the risk.

“Thank you, lead the way sir…?”

“Light Step,” the guard answered, turning to guide Krika. After about a minute Krika recognized the route, this way led to Celestia’s personal office, Antroz had taken him a couple times when he’d not trusted anyone else with keeping an ear out for Krika, though he’d always been forced to wait outside the door.

Part of him wanted to feel guilty for suspecting Light Step of foul play, but Krika was walking precedent for how untrustworthy those who serve the dark could be. Light Step knocked on the door, Krika felt a prickle across his armour as a golden glow of Princess Celestia’s power washed over the door, gently pulling it open.

“Thank you for fetching him, Step,” her voice called out, “Makuta Krika, if I could have a word?” Krika stepped inside without hesitation, ignoring the discomfort of walking through the aura of her power.

“Your Grace,” Krika bowed low, if a bit awkwardly. She cocked her head.

Princess Celestia was beyond resplendent, her heat-white coat, only proper for a commander of Light, dazzled him almost as thoroughly as the shifting prism of colours that was her mane and tail, strangely faded for the intensity of the power he could feel off of her in her presence. Maybe that was the beginning of her power waning, the very thing Luna was waiting for, no doubt. As Princess Celestia watched him she began to shift, her expensive wings ruffling at her sides, not a feather out of place.

“Rise, Krika,” she finally said after it became clear he had no intention to rise without permission.

“Forgive my impertinence,” Krika spoke as he straightened up, “but how did you know I was coming?” Princess Celestia’s expression didn’t so much as twitch, but Krika still felt examined, all but laid bare under her gaze.

“You and your siblings have been being watched closely, for your own protection of course,” she added quickly. “There has been no official introduction to our people yet, the wrong pony stumbling across you could be… problematic.” Spies? This paragon of Light had been spying on them? “The other Makuta all know, they haven’t bothered to tell you?”

“Ah,” he said a bit lamely, “no, they haven’t.” He shook his head, “this isn’t important, you wanted to speak to me, and I wanted to speak to you, without my siblings in the way.”

“Yes,” the Princess’ expression darkened slightly, “you seem troubled, but know that I bear you and your siblings no ill will.” Krika couldn’t help the way his expression twitched with disdain, Princess Celestia’s brow went up. “Is something wrong?”

“You should,” he managed to compose himself enough to state it as fact instead of spitting it. “We’re dangerous, Princess. I don’t know what lies they’ve fed you to earn your trust, but my siblings intend the worst for you and your people.” Princess Celestia’s gaze went placid, calm and studying.

“And you are privy to these plans?” She asked, “I have been waiting for an opportunity to talk with you alone because they don’t seem to trust you.” Krika couldn’t quite place her expression, composed and cautious like a true ruler should be, but he got the feeling he had her attention. Good, now he just had to convince her of the scheme happening right under her nose.

“They don’t,” Krika spat, “but I know them better than they know themselves.” He hesitated a moment, he could press with Luna’s obvious betrayal but he decided to hold his tongue on that for the moment, too much at once would make her less likely to believe him. “I’m sure you don’t want to get caught up in our war, Princess, but that is exactly what they intend to have happen. They’ve been trying to gain your trust so that they can count you as allies when we find a way to return.”

The Princess’ expression didn’t move, those lilac eyes just boring into him. He found himself at a loss, wondering if she was just digesting what he’d told her, but those eyes seemed to press him for more. “They intend to present you as an accomplishment to our leader, Teridax; and if I know him, he won’t rest until he rules you as well. He may even have the power to storm your nation himself, now.”

“I see,” she finally spoke, her expression still unmoving. “What do you propose I do?” Something in the way she held herself shifted and Krika was suddenly very aware that he was in a relatively small room with someone who could fry him with a thought.

“C-cast us out, imprison us, or better yet, destroy us completely. Makuta’s will cannot be imposed on your world, it can’t.” He let his gaze drift away from her, his eye catching on the window and up to the sky. Luna’s moon, the only true spot of light in the oppressive dark, was almost perfectly framed by it and he felt his expression harden again.

“Krika,” she called his attention back to her, “why are you telling me this?” Her gaze was still searching, he hadn’t convinced her of anything, not yet.

“Because I can’t see another world torn apart by my people’s- my brother’s- evil,” he answered, drawing himself up tall. “I served him once, never again.” Princess Celestia’s eyebrow went up.

“Then why are you here?” She asked carefully. Krika blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“If you are so opposed to Teridax, why did you serve him?” She pressed, “you saw it through to the end.”

“I-I had no choice,” he sputtered indignantly, “I am Makuta, no one else would have ever taken me in, and even if they would, Gorast would have killed me before they got the chance!”

“And you would rather I did it?” Her voice wasn’t cold, it wasn’t accusatory, it wasn’t even angry. If anything, she seemed… disappointed. It made his armour crawl with a faceless shame, he would have even preferred she pitied him to this.

Krika was silent for a long moment and Princess Celestia rose, “Krika, you said “us.”” He forced himself still, “not “destroy them,” “destroy us,” Krika.” She stepped around her desk and stood in front of him, her expression still unreadable. “What did you come here to do?” He grit his teeth. “If you wanted to die, you could have not saved your siblings in the energy storm, you could have refused to open a path for them into this world, even before that you could have rebelled against Teridax from the sound of it.”

“My kind, we are self serving by nature, evil.” Krika felt himself steadying into a familiar resignation. “Even on the way here I wasn’t good enough to resist my base nature, we deserve to be destroyed.”

“Yet you did everything in your power to preserve your siblings.” She cocked her head, “you saved them from the storm, you brought them to this world, where they have a chance to experience compassion as they haven’t before.” Krika felt his anger rise, as if he’d intended to blight her people with his sibling’s presence.

“I saved them because I needed them,” he spat, “I don’t anymore.”

“This is a world of second chances, Krika,” Princess Celestia met his increasingly baleful glare without flinching, “the Mad God Discord, lost Starlight Glimmer, the Changelings,” she paused for a moment, her expression twitching slightly in that terrible disappointment. “My Sister Luna.” Krika felt his eyes go wide as he studied her, her gaze was still unyielding, she understood what she’d just said. “Tell me, do you believe I could destroy you and your siblings without endangering my people? That they would be safe from their wrath should I fail?”

“...No,” Krika admitted after a long moment. “The battle would be cataclysmic.”

“Luna wants to help them, the way she has been helped before.” Princess Celestia’s expression softened, “and if she succeeds there won’t be a drop of blood spilt. She wants to help you, won’t you let her before giving up?” Krika saw red.

“Your Sister is no better than us!” He shouted, fury coursing through his form, “just look outside! She and everything she touches is lousy with Darkness, that murderer Vamprah trails after her like an obedient pet, just standing near her makes me feel filthy. I hate to break it to you but whatever you did to save her failed! Nothing good, no Light lives in that creature of Darkness, and she will betray you again, perhaps she already has.” He spat, Princess Celestia’s gaze hardened and the fury broke, draining from him like water from a shattered glass.

“Do not talk about my Sister that way,” her words had a forcefulness to them now that had Krika stepping away from her; fire licked at the edges of her mane, her wings flaring at her sides. “I haven’t tolerated it from anyone before and I’m not about to start with you.” She took a step towards him as he retreated, “she and I have spent years repairing what my pride and her jealousy cost us, I will not have you belittle my trust or hers.”

“Bu-”

“You have said enough,” she snapped, straightening her feathers and recomposing herself as she turned away from him. “Thank you for your insight, Krika. Quiet Eye will escort you back to your quarters.” Celestia’s magic slid past him to open the door and his armour burned with its proximity for a moment, he flinched to the side.

Krika hesitated, Celestia clicked her tongue, “I will probably regret this outburst later, so I will apologize for it now, but I stand by what I said. I am sorry, Krika, but I trust Luna with my life.” The backward glance she threw him sent a thrill of fear down his armour, “I’ll send for you in the morning, once I’ve calmed down, and explain the difference between our worlds properly. For now, go.”

Krika didn’t hesitate this time. Just like last time, no one would listen to him.

______

This, had been a bad idea. Gorast cursed herself as she darted between buildings, trying to shake off the hundred or so Takua trailing her. In her defense, there had only been one of them a few hours ago when she charged for Tridax’ twisted mask.

If she wasn’t so preoccupied with not being murdered half a dozen different ways his accusation would have sent another pulse of rage through her. Instead it just confused her; where did he get off calling her of all people a traitor? She still wanted to tear his disgusting half-mask off his head, though.

If she’d been in her prime she could have taken these diminished Toa of Light easily, they’d lost their biggest advantage against her, but as she was now she could take maybe a dozen before the rest overwhelmed her. She turned a corner and launched herself up the building, keeping herself low against the roof as she hoped for the Takua to pass by none the wiser. Her teeth grit and her claws itched fiercely, she’d gotten herself psyched up for a fight and been forced to retreat, there was no part of her that was happy with this.

Something huge landed on the roof behind her and she turned. A Takua stood, staring at her for a moment before drawing himself up to shout. Gorast didnt’ give him the chance, launching herself out at him she drove the skullplate of her mask into his chest.

Winded, Takua pushed her away, gasping for breath to try and get a proper cry out to his allies. She landed on her feet and charged him again as he was doubled over. His mask began to crackle and glow around the edges as he tried to force it to work again, but Gorast wasn’t about to let herself get hit by the same trick twice. She swung with her left as the bright glow of power reached a fever pitch. Touching the Avohkii burned down in her bones, drawing a muted hiss of pain from her as she yanked with all of her might, pulling it off of Takua’s face.

The mask went cold and powerless in her claws before she dropped it. A burning pain lanced all the way up her arm but she ignored it, she’d have Mutran fix whatever had her fingers refusing to respond properly once she was out of this.

To her surprise, instead of a helpless, maskless face beneath the Avohkii, there was a blue Kanohi. A Pakari, Mask of Strength, if she remembered correctly. Her eyes widened and she swung with her other arm, determined to take him out of commission before he could activate it. There were few things that could hope to stand against a Pakari’s power in close combat, and she wasn’t one of them anymore.

Her fist impacted his mask with a sickeningly loud crack as the Pakari shattered. Takua screamed as he went down and Gorast stiffened, sound might not travel far in this mist, but she was certain it reached down below.

She glanced down at her left arm, the silver claws of it had been charred black by the Avohkii’s power, joints half melted and set slightly wrong. It was far from ideal, but it’d be serviceable for an escape. As she charged the far side of the building she felt something impact across the side of her face, sending stars flashing through her vision and forcing her to still lest she lose her balance. She threw herself backwards before she vision cleared, rewarded with the satisfying crunch of shattering concrete where she’d been standing.

Landing with a slight tumble she shook her head to clear it and glared at the source of the attack. Another Takua hauled himself up the side of the building, the barrel of the Skyblaster attached to his arm still swirling with black. Where Gorast had been standing there was another one, the three prongs of his lance buried in the building they were standing on.

Gorast grit her teeth and made to unclip her arms; only the right side complied, her left hand sending another shock of pain up her arm. She cursed silently, fused together then, fine. She glanced around, seeing more Takua climbing up the sides of the building all around her. She made like she was about to set her stance defensively, waiting until the two currently up with her moved forwards to meet her before she sprinted to the side, hoping to catch one of the others before he could set himself on top of the building proper.

She caught a flash of purple out of the corner of her eye and twisted just in time to avoid the violent tinged hand of shadow that now barred her way. She glared back at its source, Tridax stepping out of the mist on the adjacent building.

“Take her,” he commanded the now properly gathered Takua, “dead or alive, whichever comes easiest.” He vanished back into the mist, becoming just a spot of lantern light against the grey.

Now she set herself defensively. If she was trapped, she was going to take down as many of these things as she could. She drew back her head, her eyes swirling with red and black before howling with all her might. It wasn’t refined as her earlier attempt to purify him, this was pure power, and it ripped itself through her throat like an explosion. The sound impacted across the first line of Takua’s, throwing them up into the air with the force of it.

Gorast followed, launching herself up at her flailing targets with claws set to rend. She took the first across the back, the numb talons of her left hand digging in and tearing at the hydraulics. She had to dodge her way around another lance swing before making it to the second, slamming the bridge of her mask into his throat, that one went limp across her brow, slowing her as she pushed away from him and landed back on the ground.

No less than four lances tried to smash her against the ground. She moved on instinct, knowing she couldn’t allow herself to be pinned down long enough for one of the Takua in the crowd to line up a shot, instead ducking underneath their swings and leaping backwards. Her wings unfurled for a split second, letting her adjust her position in the air so she could drive the serrated talons of her foot through the armour of one’s elbow. He roared in pain as she landed behind him, her wings furling back up to keep them from being targeted.

The darkness answered her call with an animalistic snarl as she raised a barrier for a split second, deflecting the Skyblaster fire that waited for her on the other side. Her eyes swirled with orange and black and she reached out a hand, pulling it back with all her might she felt her power catch on her opponent’s bodies, yanking them towards her with enough force to throw them off balance.

She felt the butt of a lance smash across her back, shoving her forwards into the pile of disoriented Takua as she snarled in pain. She twisted to the side, bringing her elbow into the mask of one of the Takua she’d pulled down to push herself back upright. As she turned she realized she was in perhaps the second worst position of her life. Behind her was a pile of enemies, all likely to grab for her ankles, and in front of her there were three more lances swinging at her face.

She danced around the first two, trying to push forwards to put some distance between her and the grasping hands behind her, but was forced to bring up her fused left hand to block the third, the weight of the blow making her legs buckle slightly and shoving her back. She felt something grab her ankle and snarled, grabbing the lance and pivoting too quick for the Takua holding it to react. She slung him over her shoulder, driving him down onto the Takua that had grabbed her, shouts of surprise and pain coming from both of them before she kicked them across the masks and they went limp.

As she tried to jump away again she found herself under heavy fire, ducking and rolling to avoid the Skyblaster fire, and right into the chest of another Takua. This one made to grab her head and she lashed out with her fangs, biting deep into his hand, the taste of his blood heavy on her tongue as it gushed into her mouth and she glared up at him. He smirked through a pained wince and closed his hand around her bottom jaw.

Gorast’s eyes went wide and panic flashed through her as she realized what he was about to do, bringing up all three of her arms to try and smash in his chestplate, but he held her out at arm’s length. She was about to make for his elbow when she felt the barrage begin. With one of their own holding her in place the others had taken the opportunity to line up their shots. Her vision danced with stars and pain erupted all across her body as Skyblaster fire relentlessly hammered at her.

She was able to hold out for a few agonizing moments but ultimately it proved too much and she went limp, hanging from Takua’s hand by her fangs. He released her and she fell to the ground with a clatter, fighting to stay awake. As her consciousness faded she cursed the mutagen again.