//------------------------------// // Death of a hero // Story: BIONIES: spirits of life // by Dihinner //------------------------------// (*This was taken from the novel BIONICLE Legends 8 Downfall. I do not claim owner ship to the characters.*) *In the heart of a waterfall, Matoro fell. ________The outside world was a blur of motion. He thought he caught glimpses of high mountains around him. It seemed there was a body of murky water down below, though he could not be sure. At one point, a dark, winged shape flew through the falls just below him, but he could not identify it. ________Time was measured in micro-seconds now, flashes of sight and sensation as he plunged deep into the core of the universe. He realized that he had made this leap of faith with absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do with the Mask of Life once he got here. It almost made him laugh. His five best friends were giving their lives for him, and here he was, moments from disaster and still clueless about what it would take to be a hero this day. ________Put on the mask. ________"What—?" he said, startled. "Who said that?" ________There was no answer. Had he really heard that, or was he losing his mind? ________Put on the mask. ________The Mask of Life — no one really knew the limits of its power. Maybe he was just hallucinating that he heard a voice, but the idea... what if the mask had to be, not just carried to the core, but donned for its power to be used? He remembered Takua, the adventurous Matoran who was hailed as the "herald" of a seventh Toa, meant to bring the Mask of Light to him wherever he might be. Little did anyone know Takua was destined to become that Toa, and the hero he had to find was the one who lived inside his own heart. ________The universe is a riddle, thought Matoro. Turaga Nuju often said that. It hints at the path you are meant to walk, but never makes its message clear. You have to figure that out for yourself... and maybe I just did. ________With a trembling hand, Matoro placed the Kanohi Ignika on top of his own mask. He expected to feel a surge of strength, or perhaps the opposite, a sudden, terrible weakness. But instead he felt... different. His body felt light and tingled as if a current of energy ran through it. He was falling still, but no longer tumbling out of control. His form was straight as an arrow and headed for a target still unknown. ________Images flashed through Matoro's mind. He saw the creation of the Ignika; its millenia of waiting for the proper time to be used and the destined wearer; he saw it taken from its resting place once before, to be used to heal the Great Spirit... and he saw what happened to the one who wore it then. ________He didn't cry out, or protest, or rush to tear the mask from his face. Nor did he waste a single moment in regret. He had never asked to become a Toa, or desired it, and the mantle of hero had never fit comfortably on his shoulders. But now, now he knew, and the knowledge brought peace. ________Nuju was right. The universe is a riddle. And today, I am the answer. ________His arms were thrust out in front of him. They were glowing now, little sparkles of light like the starfield above the island of Mata Nui. His whole body was changing now, patterns of light swirling, energies being unleashed, as the Mask of Life drew forth the essence of the being called Matoro. ________Is this the end then? he wondered. Is this what it feels like? ________Yes, he decided. This was death. This was the price the Ignika demanded for its use. He would no longer exist as Matoro, as a Toa, as a living being of organic muscle and mechanical parts... he would be far less than what he was, and far more. ________The world was changing all around him, and it did not frighten the Toa of Ice. He knew the real change was in how he was viewing his surroundings — no longer with eyes, a mind, a spirit bound to the physical world. He was becoming pure energy, pure life... the force that would bring the Great Spirit back from death. Already, he could barely remember how it felt to be in battle, or to be lonely, or to feel the warmth of a fire on a cold night. Pleasure, pain, satisfaction, disappointment, these were all just words to him now. He was beyond all that, or almost. ________But there was one emotion, one part of his former life, that he had not forgotten — one memory he refused to surrender. Jaller, Hahli, Hewkii, Kongu, Nuparu — his friends — his partners — who had fought beside him and laughed with him and made all the burdens bearable. They were out there now in the black water, about to die at the claws of the Barraki. No one on Metru Nui would ever know of their heroism or the sacrifices they were willing to make. They would never see their homes or those they cared about ever again. ________His own death, he could accept — but theirs? No, that was too high a price to pay, even to buy the salvation of a universe. ________He was Toa Matoro, at least for a few moments more, and he wore the Mask of Life. Or perhaps the Mask of Life now wore him. He didn't know, or care. He knew his friends were willing to die for him and his destiny, and for that reason alone, they had to live. ________Matoro pushed back against the power of the mask, fighting to hold on to his consciousness and his own existence for just another heartbeat. He wrestled with the power, pleaded with it, tried to bend it to his will. The Ignika, for reasons of its own, allowed this. ________Once before, long ago, a Toa had donned the Ignika and lost his life to complete his mission. That Toa had tried to be brave, but there was fear in his heart and he met his end with grief and regret. The Ignika sensed none of this in Matoro — only a will and determination that rivaled even that of Mata Nui himself. ________The Mask of Life, bound now to the energy of Matoro, granted him its power. Matoro seized upon it to perform his final act. It was not one of grand heroism, not a gesture that would shake the universe, but something more powerful and lasting than either one: a simple act of friendship. ________With all that done, Matoro surrendered himself gratefully and completely to his destiny. The merged energies of Toa and Kanohi mask exploded in the core of the universe, flooding it with light. Streams of golden power flowed into every part of this realm and then beyond it, until it had touched every place where the Great Spirit had once reigned. Just as countless beings had sensed the death of Mata Nui, so did they now feel life return to him. And in the sky above the city of Metru Nui, the stars shone brightly once before...* The universe however, had other plans for Matoro. While he was deceased here, who is to say he is truly dead? He accepted his fate with courage, such courage that shall not go unrewarded, though he may be gone, it is surprising how one can find friends in the most unusual places… Matoro’s entire body hurt. He was lying face down in a field. Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position. he observed his surroundings, there was a path and what looks to be a village ahead. ‘why am I in the jungles of Le-wahi?’ he wondered. He looked to his side to see his Twin cutter. He picked it up and started to slowly walk down the path wondering why death had put him in a field. After a short walk, he found his Cordak blasted in a bush. He went to go retrieve it when he remembered, ‘I’m dead, why should I need it now?’ still, it seemed odd to just leave it there, so he picked it up and resumed walking. By the time he reached the town the moon had took its place in the sky. Matoro looked at it in awe, it was beautiful. It reminded him of his days as a Matoran back on Mata nui. But, besides that everything in the town was strange, it was so… small. ‘Then again,’ he reminded himself, ‘I am taller than Matoran, maybe they are just shorter here.’ Satisfied with that, he resumed walking until he found a decent sized tree. He propped himself up against a tree and fell into a much needed sleep. **************************************************************************************************************************************** “What is that?” “I don’t know but it looks dangerous.” “Hey, I think it’s waking up!” Matoro opened his eyes, standing around him were dozens of multi coloured rahi. Or at least, they looked vaguely like rahi. Standing in front of him was a pink one with a poufy pink mane. “HI!” it said. Matoro blinked, did a rahi just say ‘hi’? I must still be sleeping,’ he told himself. Talking rahi, there was only two he has heard of being able to do that and both were back home in Metru nui. He sighed, home. As he started to get up the brightly coloured rahi backed away in fear. When he stood at his full height, he realised that he was at least double its height. “Hello? Can you speak?” it asked again. “Yes I can speak,” Matoro grumbled. Then he blinked and did a double take at the small pink rahi. “HI!” “Uh... hello?” he replied. A talking rahi, he chuckled, his death has talking rahi. “What’s so funny?” asked a purple one. “You can all talk,” replied Matoro. “Of course we can talk,” replied a blue one, “why wouldn’t we?” Matoro stared at the crowd; he shrugged slightly and said, “Where I’m from, Rahi don’t speak.” This time, a yellow one spoke up, “um, what’s a ‘Rahi’?” Matoro sighed, “Rahi are the term for all sorts of creatures as a whole, and I don’t recognise your kind so I refer to the term used for all.” They stared at him; Matoro felt a sense of unease. But he didn’t know why, he was dead after all. In his eyes, they were small four legged rahi with fur and completely organic. In the ponies eyes however, they saw a giant two legged robot with a claw for one hand, cannon on the other with bright orange eyes behind a blue visor and silver mask. He also stank of salt water and fish. To them, he was a monster beyond their wildest imaginations. “Err, I guess I’ll be leaving,” he finally replied. “Wait, who you are?” asked the purple one again. “I’m Matoro, second bearer of the Kanohi Ignika and deceased toa of ice,” he replied. “What does deceased mean?” asked the blue one. “Deceased means dead. I died using the Ignika and now I’m here to spend my death.” “Wait, y’all are dead?” asked an orange one. Matoro sighed, “Yes I’m dead, and I died to save my friends and hundreds of others.” “Well if you are dead, then why are you here?” asked a white one. “That is a very good question.”