It seemed a good time to leave. But Vezon had not yet achieved any mastery over the powers of the Kanohi Olmak that had been merged with him. It didn’t work just because he wanted it to, and right now, he was starting to wish he had never seen the miserable thing to start with.
For the sixth time in the last minute, he willed the Olmak’s power to take him away from this reality before the onrushing horde trampled him underfoot. This time, he felt the now familiar sensation of dizziness that preceded a dimension jump, and saw the world waver around him. But then something happened that had never happened before: everyone around him froze in place. When he tried to reach out and touch a Toa, his hand passed right through. Worst of all, he wasn’t “traveling” – he seemed to be stuck in a realm of statues.
“This is better than being killed,” he said to himself. “Not much better, but better.”
His addled mind ran through all the possible scenarios. This wasn’t much help, as he knew next to nothing about Masks of Power or how to repair them. If something had gone wrong with the Olmak, he might well be stuck forever.
Would that be so bad? The voice was in his head – this wasn’t an unusual experience for Vezon, although normally the voices he heard were his own.
“If it doesn’t get any more entertaining than this, yes,” Vezon replied. “Who am I speaking to?”
My given name wouldn’t mean anything to you. The people of Spherus Magna would call me a “Great Being.”
“And what makes you so great?”
I do not speak to the beings of this world. They never see me, or hear me, and so it is left to their imaginations to conjure what I am like, how I think, and what I believe. The imagination has an infinite capacity to fill in the blanks with what it wants to be there.
“That’s nice,” said Vezon, impatiently. “Can you help me get out of this situation?”
Why would I? I got you into it. My people created the first Masks of Power. We certainly know how to shut one off. You don’t belong here … in fact, I strongly suspect you don’t belong anywhere. And so, now you are nowhere.
“Is this what Great Beings do all day? Stick their phantom noses into things that don’t concern them and get in the way of a perfectly good lunatic rampage through realities?” asked Vezon.
I am, perhaps, not a typical Great Being, the voice replied. Eons ago, I made the error of touching the Mask of Life. As a result, everything around me – furniture, equipment, rays of light – came to life. For their own safety, my fellow rulers imprisoned me. Now all I need fear are my living chains … living blocks of stone … and the screams of light as the darkness extinguishes it.
Vezon didn’t know anything about what pains a living light might feel, but he did know a light at the end of the tunnel when he saw one. “So you’re in prison, and so am I. Would you set me free … if I could set you free?”
The voice in Vezon’s head was silent for a long time.
Lewa stood stock still. Artakha had teleported him into a cavern, but he was not alone there. No, evidently he was sharing it with some being named Tren Krom … and something told Lewa he really didn’t want to get a look at his host.
Turn, Tren Krom said again. His telepathic “voice” reminded Lewa of a nest of slithering borer worms.
“I am ever-fine right here, thanks,” said Lewa. “Artakha said --”
I can guess why you have come, Toa, Tren Krom replied. I too heard the voice of Makuta Teridax coming from every corner of the universe. But what would you have me do? I have knowledge that could be used as a weapon against him, but knowledge without the experience to use it is less than useless. And I am bound to this island by the Great Beings, unable to venture forth.
“And if the Great Beings did it, I doubt I have the power to quick-free you,” said Lewa. “So this journey was another waste of time.”
Perhaps … and perhaps, said Tren Krom. There may be a way. But it would involve great risk … and success, for you, might be worse than failure.
“Everyone I care about is at risk,” Lewa answered. “Everything that matters to me has been poisoned by Makuta’s corruption. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him.”
You may live to regret your choice, said Tren Krom. But the choice has been made just the same.
Lewa felt a tentacle wrap around his neck. His arms went up to tear it away, then stopped halfway there. The next instant, the world began to spin and he felt as if his insides were being yanked out a piece at a time. There was light and pain and impenetrable darkness. And when the shadows cleared away, Lewa was staring at … himself.
He looked down, for only a micro-second, long enough to see a huge tentacled mass grafted to stone. Instinctively, he knew that was Tren Krom’s body – and his mind was inside it.
“Freedom.” The word came from Lewa’s mouth, in Lewa’s voice, but it was spoken by Tren Krom. “After so long, I have a body again … a strong, powerful body that can take me from this wretched place … thanks to you.”
Lewa tried to speak and couldn’t. At first, he panicked. Then he recalled that Tren Krom had spoken to him telepathically. He concentrated and his words echoed in “Lewa’s” brain.
What have you done? I didn’t quick-agree to this!
“You said ‘whatever it takes,’” Tren Krom replied. “This is what it took. But do not fear – I will honor our bargain. I will use what I know to stop Teridax. All I ask in return is freedom. Is a life spent in exile here so high a price to pay for the safety of all you know and love?”
Before Lewa could form an answer, Tren Krom – in the body of the Toa Nuva of Air – had left the cave. Lewa tried to pursue, but the great bulk of this body was a part of the island itself. He could not move.
And if I don’t find a way to get my body back, he said to himself, I’m going to be ever-trapped here for good.
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