Chapter Six

Karzahni yanked hard on his burning chain, tearing the black fire sword from the grasp of the Maxilos robot. With a second strike, he shattered the Toa of Water who swam behind the robot into pieces.

He had been heading for the Matoran settlement when he spotted Maxilos, the now destroyed Toa, and a Toa of Ice swimming in the opposite direction. His keen hearing picked up the robot saying something about a “Staff of Artakha.” Karzahni knew Artakha well… and hated him… and if something of his was down in this Pit, it had to be seized or destroyed.

The Toa of Ice turned as if to attack. Karzahni hit him with a nightmarish vision of failure, so horrible it would have driven anyone other than a Toa into gibbering insanity. That left only the robot to deal with.

“Speak, machine,” said Karzahni. “I know you have a voice. I am Karzahni, and I would know — what is this Staff of Artakha, and where can I find it? Or do I need to dismantle you and tear the information out of your mechanical mind?”

The robot said something in reply, but so softly even Karzahni couldn’t hear it. He swam closer to Maxilos, then closer still. The robot was, after all, unarmed.

“Interesting,” said Karzahni. “Even if the design was not familiar, you have the stink of Artakha about you. Reason enough to turn you to scrap. Speak up, you miserable machine, I cannot hear your words!”

The right arm of Maxilos lashed out faster than anything Karzahni had ever seen. The robot’s hand gripped Karzahni around the throat and squeezed.

“I said, so this is Karzahni,” came the reply. “Karzahni, the jailer of Matoran… Karzahni, the would-be avatar of evil… Karzahni, the fool… and soon to be a dead fool.”

“Who are you —?” Karzahni demanded.

“I am Makuta,” the robot replied. “I am power. You have broken my Toa and delayed my passage…”

Makuta, in the Maxilos robot, hurled Karzahni down toward the sea floor. He plowed through a rock ledge and landed hard, half-buried in the mud. With Karzahni’s concentration shattered, Matoro shook himself free of the illusion that had paralyzed him.

“And I hate to be late,” Makuta finished.

Karzahni forced himself to his feet, forcing a twisted arm back into place. “Yes. I’ve heard of you, Makuta — a tin-covered tyrant who wishes to be lord of the Matoran… as if being worshipped by insects had some meaning. I do not know where you were going… but your journey is about the end.”

Matoro felt a great disturbance in the water. He turned to look for its source and then gasped at the sight. It was Manas crabs — hundreds of them — huge and hungry, and all with only one thought in their bestial minds:

Kill the enemies of Karzahni.