Chapter Text
The skies of Spherus Magna were a cloudless blue the morning the intrepid Chronicler set out in search of answers.
That’s a pretty good opening line, right?
Oh, whoops. I guess I should start with introductions. Hello, I’m Takua! I’m an Av-Matoran, or at least that’s what the Great Beings call me. I don’t know, I’ve always thought of myself as… Just Takua, I guess.
Maybe it’s because I don’t have much in common with all the other Av-Matoran. I don’t think they wonder much about who they are or what their purpose is like I do. Actually, I’m not sure they wonder about anything.
I mean, they’re great, don’t get me wrong. Especially my best friend, Solek. It’s just that conversations with them can be a bit one-note. Let me give you an example:
“Hey, Solek, do you think there are other worlds out there somewhere?”
“Query irrelevant. Return to work.”
“Solek, do you think clouds taste sweet?”
“Query irrelevant. Return to work.”
“Solek, what do you think the Great Beings are making us build, anyway?”
“Query—“
You get the idea.
Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. That last question is the whole reason I started writing this tablet. Something very weird is going on, and someone needs to figure out what it is! Why me? Well, it’s not like Solek’s going to.
It wasn’t always like this. We used to build regular, everyday things for the Great Beings: engines, pistons, power generators, you name it.
Then things took a turn. Last month, we started on a new construction project, bigger than any they’d had us tackle so far. I was sure it was going to be a new fortress from which the Great Beings could leer imposingly down at us. But when we finished it yesterday, I took a step back and got a good look at it for the first time, and…
It was a hand. A giant hand.
That was strange.
My mind immediately started racing. The hand had five fingers, just like a Matoran’s. Are they building a huge Matoran? Are they making us build our replacement?
Or maybe it has something to do with this war they don’t like us hearing about. If this thing is a weapon, I don’t want anything to do with it. That hand is big enough to flatten a whole city!
We all needed answers, and I knew who could give them to me. I’d been assigned to worksite-E this morning. They’ve been moving me around a lot. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were all trying to get rid of me. But I knew Angonce would be at site-A.
The Great Being looked very tired when I arrived at the worksite. He was hunched over, eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep. And I couldn’t be sure thanks to his baggy robe, but it seemed like he’d lost weight.
On the edge of the canyon overlooking the golden-brown vista where worksite-A sat, he was having a very loud, very impolite, and very technical argument with his younger colleague. I’m kinda kicking myself over it now, but I definitely tuned out most of their conversation. I caught the words “transistor,” “timeframe,” “integrity,” and “protodermis,” at least.
The Agori and even the Element Lords always trip over themselves to honor the Great Beings, and I don’t think the other Matoran have any choice but to bow, but I just walked right up to Angonce and tapped him on the back.
“Great Being Angonce! What are you having the Matoran build? Care to comment on rumors that it’s a giant Matoran?”
Angonce’s lined face contorted with shock, and he leapt just about high enough in the air to land himself on the tallest of the Black Spike Mountains. The other Great Being snorted.
“Wh–” Angonce sputtered. “Matoran unit! This is not your assigned worksite. Return to where you… No, report to the recharging facility for a full diagnostic at once. Something’s altered your programming.”
“So, would it be fair for me to write ‘Great Being Angonce declined to comment, but his hostile reaction to the question spoke volumes more than any official statement ever could?’”
I’ll always treasure the look of complete bafflement on Angonce’s face as he glared down at me, hands clenching around nothing.
“Oh no,” Angonce said at last, recognition and horror dawning in his eyes. “It’s that one.”
The other Great Being doubled over, cackling and clapping his hands. Angonce leveled an accusatory finger at him.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Prometis. I know you’re responsible for this one. Your fingerprints are all over it.”
The other Great Being shrugged.
“I mean, I like the kid, you’ve got me there. He’s got gumption. I wish all the Matoran were more like him.”
“Gumption” was a word I’d not heard before. I always preferred to know the meaning of words, especially ones that referred directly to me. So, I asked Prometis what it meant.
“Well, what does a Sand Stalker…” he attempted, then thought better of it. “Never mind, sorry. I’m no good at riddles. It means you’re a brave kid, walking up to a Great Being like that, when you know he could boil your tiny little mind with one gesture.”
I have to admit, that didn’t make me feel very brave, but I pressed on.
“Ok, if Angonce doesn’t want to make a statement, maybe you do. What are you having us build? Inquiring Matoran minds want to know.”
“Inquiring–” Angonce cut in. “No! No, they don’t! You are the only one who wants to know!”
Prometis rolled his eyes and clapped me on the shoulder, leading me away from the raving Angonce.
“Sorry about Angonce,” Prometis told me once we were at a safe distance. “He's under a lot of pressure.”
I seized the opportunity and asked if it had anything to do with the Core War.
“Ooh, you’re good,” Prometis said with a wink. “Almost got me there. You’ve got a knack for finding out things you shouldn’t. You just need to be a bit more… Subtle. Butter me up with some easy questions first. Don’t just come out and ask what you want to know, work up to it a little bit. That’s journalism. You know what I mean?”
“Sure! Hey, thanks, Prometis! For helping me become a better Chronicler.”
Prometis cocked his head. “Chronicler? Huh, that’s pretty good. You mind if I use that?”
“For what?”
“Oh, just… Something. Little project I’m working on.”
He was being about as evasive as Angonce despite his friendlier demeanor, so I brought things back around to the topic at hand.
“Related to the big project?”
Prometis wagged his finger.
“Uh uh, butter me up, remember?”
“Ok, fine… Do you enjoy being a Great Being?”
Prometis paused for a moment, then a grin crept across his face. He clicked his heels together, and power shone through the slats in his boots.
Then, he vaulted straight up into the air.
I’ve seen the self-powered vehicles the Great Beings drive around, but let me tell you, this was nothing like that at all. There was no roar, no jet of flame. He just floated up there, completely cut off from gravity’s pull, doing loops and laughing.
Then he cut the power to his boots and dropped back down to the ground, flat on his feet. His cloak swayed around him.
I’d love to tell you that your daring Chronicler made an insightful observation or took the opportunity to catch him off guard with a probing question.
What I said instead was “W-w-w-wowww!”
Prometis grinned and strutted around a bit on the sand, showing off his shiny boots.
“I know, right?”
“Can you… Teach me to do that?”
“Well I can teach you how to build boots like mine! It’s real simple…”
It was not real simple. I just nodded and smiled as Prometis’ voice rumbled distantly like the ocean, my mind wandering back to the mystery project and all the Great Beings’ many secrets.
Before too long, I managed to bring things back around to Angonce’s project. There wasn’t much that Prometis was willing to tell me, but he did say this, constantly checking over his shoulder for Angonce as he did:
“It’s all about knowledge, kid. Knowledge is the salvation of Spherus Magna. Remember that.”
He assured me it wasn’t any kind of weapon – at least not one for fighting the Core War, he was emphatic about that point – and I went on my way.
Not until I’d given him a big hug, of course.
“Oof. Yeah, yeah, ok, bring it in,” he wheezed. “Now shoo. Chronicle something else. Preferably at worksite-E, where you’re supposed to be. You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”
Now back in my little alcove, I meticulously pore over the blueprints I swiped from Prometis’ robe. He’ll realize what happened and send a squad of Matoran to take them from me before long, I’m sure.
But that should give me plenty of time to delve deep into the mystery lying deconstructed in the sand wastes of Spherus Magna, to solve the greatest riddle of the famously impenetrable Great Beings, to work tirelessly until I have unraveled every last detail, to… Never surrender. Even if it takes… Weeks. Even if it takes… Years? Years of sitting right here, at my workbench, my head buried in these… Blueprints?
…
…
Or, I could go explore some of the other worksites! I haven’t even been to sites-F or G yet!
Yeah, that's probably for the best. Whatever this “Mata Nui” is, it can’t be that important, can it?