Double: Crime and the City

"I’m Linke. And the two of us... we’re just two Matoran."

- Linke to Gahla, Double: Crime and the City

Double: Crime and the City is the full-length, Epic Follow-Up to the Short Story Double, and the second installment in The Double Saga Epic Series by BZPower and C.I.R.C.L.E. member Koji.

Day One
“Ahhhhhh!” The pain was worse than anything else that he was sure anyone had ever felt in their life. This was worse than death. He heard nothing from the other. An axis of power enveloped their two bodies, and then, there was nothing, nothing but two eyes, and a figure rising. The power axis shattered, leveling the street and every structure nearby. The crimson eyes set their sights, and a hand was thrown out. “Goodbye.” One year later... Doppel Nui, a small island in the southeast of the Matoran Universe. Filled with majestic structures, majestic landscaping, and, an odd law. No Toa. Doppel Nui was only inhabited by Matoran, naturally. They were artists, sculptors, scholars. They were only working to increase the beauty of their island home. Toa were banned from the island, because, more often than naught, they brought only destruction. They were to bring safety, but, in that battle, they usually brought destruction. That was the problem with Toa, and that’s why they were barred. Rahi, however, still occasionally appeared, as did the occasional Dark Hunter, but, other than that, there were no problems. Dark Hunters would get out of the way soon enough with minimal damage. And Rahi, they were dealt with by Matoran soldiers. Matoran soldiers may not have been the best, but they had weaponry to try to at least discourage the Rahi from returning. It helped fairly often, with minimal damage. Less than Toa brought. “Another brilliant piece!” A Matoran of Stone exclaimed, “Superb! I can’t believe a Ta-Matoran is this good! So much better than me.” The Ta-Matoran nodded, “It’s been a pleasure working for you once again.” He said, “Your vision is excellent, as always. I’m still pleased that my skills can match your vision.” The Po-Matoran nodded and picked up the new sculpture. He nodded to the Ta-Matoran, “Everyone will be jealous of me again! Once more, I own a sculpture by Recht!” The Matoran named Recht nodded, “Glad I could be of help.” He wrung his hands on a cloth, brushing off the dust from the sculpture, “Have fun with that sculpture. Have fun showing off.” The Po-Matoran nodded, “I will!” He rushed off, leaving the Ta-Matoran behind. Recht sighed and walked away. He walked back into the building. Outside on the sign, it read, “Recht Sculpting: The Sculpture of Fire!”. As a Ta-Matoran, Recht wasn’t expected to be a good sculptor, yet, he was the best on Doppel Nui, somehow. Recht looked around, and then, walked towards his desk. He reached under it, taking grip of something. He pulled out a small key, and walked towards the other side of the office. He stopped and looked back. He heard someone knocking, and quickly dropped the key, and kicked it under a fern couch. He walked over, “How may I help you?” The Matoran, a Ga-Matoran, wearing a robe, walked closer. She drew out a small item, a badge. “Detective Gahla!” Recht announced. He walked over, “Can I do something for you?” Detectives were a big part of life on Doppel Nui. They managed to keep the peace, they managed to track down from the simplest of clues, and then, solve any crimes that could have sprung up. They kept the peace, better than any of the Matoran had ever seen Toa do. Gahla looked around, “Yes, actually, Recht.” She looked him in the eyes, “You’re under arrest.” “What?” He shouted. He took a step back on impulse, shocked beyond belief that he would be arrested. She drew a tablet from her robe. She held it out, “Look.” He looked at the rendition of a dead Matoran. The wound was mortal, and, had an odd shape. “We matched the wound with one of your sculptures.” She told him, “But, when we looked for the owner, we only found one thing.” “And what’s that?” Recht asked. “The sculpture is heavily desired.” She answered, “We thought that was why he was murdered. However, upon further investigation, we learned that the sculpture wasn’t owned by anyone, other than you.” She pointed at him, “One that you wouldn’t sell. You’re under arrest.” “What?” Recht shouted, “Come on! Why would I murder anyone? Especially with one of my sculptures?” Gahla walked over, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Now, come easily and I won’t resort to force.” Recht shook his head, muttering to himself. He looked at the Ga-Matoran, “Fine.” He sat in a small, stone room, looking around. Gahla took a seat in front of him, and showed him the image again. “I’ve never seen him.” Recht told her. “A Fe-Matoran named Kornek. Are you sure you’ve never met him?” “I’m sure.” Recht answered firmly. “Do you even have proof yet that it’s my sculpture that matches the wound?” She rose, “Actually, I was about to head over.” She pointed at him, “You’ll be watched. Don’t leave the room, or we will resort to force. I’ll fetch the sculpture from your residence, and look at the wounds. If it matches, you’re in trouble. If not, you’ll be free to go.” “Fine.” Recht replied, “Go ahead. I’m confident you’ll find nothing.” Gahla looked to her partner, “Find it?” The Onu-Matoran ducked down, and pulled something out from a small shelf. He held it up, “Oh yeah! I found it all right.” “Good.” Gahla replied, still looking around for anything suspicious, “Take it to the prison. Have it checked against the corpse, and then, take the evidence and let’s see if Recht is innocent, or guilty.” Her partner nodded, and walked out with the evidence. She continued to look around, not really expecting to find anything, yet, at the same time, expecting to. She brushed her hand against a wall, feeling something odd. She looked closer, seeing the stone was fake. It was a thin layer. She brushed at it with her armored finger, slowly uncovering what was behind it. It was a symbol. Recht’s trademark. It was like a cross, but had the two sidebars sticking up at the end. The top bar had another on it going right, meanwhile the bottom was going left at the end. There was something wrong with it. A large gash was through it, as if someone wanted to get their point across. “Maybe... he was set up.” She muttered. She turned around, looking across the room. She saw the same mark across, on the opposite wall, but this one was smaller. She strode over to it, and looked closer. It was indented into the wall. The indent was fairly small, but still... She leaned on the couch, and heard something move when it creaked. She crouched down, and looked under it, seeing a key. She reached for it, and took hold of it. It had been lying against a leg, and when she leaned on it, it moved. She took it up, and looked at the end. It was the same symbol, and the same size. She looked at the wall, but shook her head. The indent was too small... but still... She pressed it in, and heard the wall slide. She turned it, and then, heard a bolt being unlocked. She looked to Recht’s desk, and walked over. She saw a small patch open in it of the same symbol. She put the key in, and then, turned around. Recht was careful. She liked that, for she had respected Recht. But, if he was a criminal... he was a mastermind, to have set this up. This ingenious system. She walked over, and felt the wall. It was sliding down, opening a new path. A staircase, down under the building. She looked back, but of course, her partner was gone. She sighed, and drew a dagger. She walked down the spiral staircase, looking around the marble walls. Down ahead, there was light. Lightstones already lined the walls, but, they provided scarce light. Down there, there was more, however. She walked into the room. It was large, had a few catwalks, a few tables, desks, and, stone, wood, and any other materials that anyone working would possibly want. “Don’t bother me.” A figure complained. She heard chipping going on, and looked to a Le-Matoran, working diligently on a slab of stone. Sitting beside him were a few sculptures. “I’m not Recht.” She said, expecting the figure to assume she was the Ta-Matoran. “I know. I’m Recht, remember?” The Le-Matoran asked. He stopped for a moment, “Wait...” He looked up, and was startled, nearly falling off his seat, “Who are you?” “Who are you, is a better question.” Gahla replied, showing the knife and badge, “I’m Gahla, a detective. Now, I need you to answer a few questions. Recht is in for questioning involving a murder.” The Le-Matoran shook his head, “No. I’m right here. I’m not being questioned.” “What?” She questioned, confused beyond belief. “I’m Recht.” He said. “I’m the famous sculptor.” He pointed up, “Oh! You’re talking about him. No, he’s just cover. I’m an isolated genius, you could say. I just sit and sculpt; he handles things, and is my public face.” “So, let me get this straight.” She said, “You’re Recht, he’s not, right?” Recht nodded, “Yeah.” He stood up. He wore a pouch at his waist, identical to one that was sitting next to “Recht’s” desk. “What are you doing?” She demanded, “Sit!” He shook his head. He was a very uncharacteristic Le-Matoran, she realized. “Something’s wrong.” He said, looking up, “I have to go. And you have to free him.” “Why?” She demanded. “He didn’t murder anyone.” He walked upstairs, ignoring her calls. She ran after him, grabbing him around the throat, and smashing him into a wall. She pressed the dagger against him. “I’m putting you under arrest!” She shouted. “If you do, more people will die.” He said, pushing her away from him. He continued upstairs, into the proper lighting. She was shocked. No one had pushed her before. She was respected as a detective. She angrily rushed after him, but he was at the door to the outside, holding the identical pouch. “Now, spring my friend, and I’ll show you the real killer.” Recht said, walking out. She ran out, but couldn’t locate him. She looked behind her, and saw her partner coming. “Gahla!” He panted, having run a long way, “It’s not a match.” Gahla remembered the sculpture, covered in dust. Of course it wasn’t a match. It hadn’t been moved in a long time, that was obvious. For some reason, she wanted to believe Recht. “We have the wrong man.” She said. “Recht” was released into the streets, but followed closely by Gahla. He hadn’t received explanation, but was simply released. “Why are you following?” He questioned. “The real Recht said you didn’t kill him. He said that if I wanted to see the real killer, to find him, and free you.” “What are you talking abou-” “I know you’re not Recht,” she said. She looked up ahead, and pointed at the Le-Matoran, “He is.” “Recht” cursed. He walked over to the real Recht, “Well?” The Le-Matoran nodded, “Found him.” The Ta-Matoran looked to Gahla, “Stand back.” “Why?” she demanded. Walking down the street was a large figure. He was a bit larger than the average Toa. He had a wickedly curved stinger weapon on his right arm. The murder weapon. He was covered in black armor, full of scars, and had a missing eye. He carried no other weapons, and was only average in stature. How he was a Dark Hunter was a mystery. “Who are you three?” he demanded, “More people getting in the way of my mission, more I have to kill?” “We’re here to stop you,” the Ta-Matoran spoke. He took the pouch, and drew a stone from it, as did Recht. It was about a quarter bio tall, each was just a quarter of that wide, and ragged. Recht stood on the right side and “Recht” on the left, each facing the stone at the other one. “What is this?” The Dark Hunter demanded. An axis of energy encircled the two Matoran. It spanned out around them, and covered them in its' power. In a flash of light, and a scream of pain from “Recht”, there was nothing but shadows as the energy departed. Walking out of the axis, however, was a new figure. A single figure. A Toa. His right side was green, his left was red. His mask was unknown. “Well?” The Toa asked in the voices of both Matoran, “Ready?” The Dark Hunter rushed him. He sidestepped and slammed a knee into the Hunter. As he stumbled back, the Toa span around, getting behind. He hammered him with a kick, sending him onto his face. He span around, and kicked the Hunter’s face, taking him up again. He quickly boxed the Dark Hunter with a few rapid punches in the chest, and then, followed up with a spinning elbow to the face, taking him back. “Time to end this.” The Toa sighed. He leapt up, becoming engulfed in flames and a cyclone. The Toa began to spin, and then, came spiraling down in a flaming cyclone at the Dark Hunter. The Hunter looked up and shouted. The attack collided, sending the Hunter stumbling back. The Toa span away from him, facing Gahla. “Checkmate.” He said in both voices, and then, snapped his right fingers. The Dark Hunter fell, erupting into flames from the fire half of the Toa. He was dead. Gahla rushed over to them as an axis returned, splitting the two Matoran. She was speechless. “Recht” slapped her shoulder, “Cover by saying a fire-based Rahi did it to him. ‘The Shadowed One’ should believe that. He wasn’t very strong, after all.” As the two walked away, she span towards them, and shouted, “Who are you?” The Ta-Matoran sighed, “I’m Linke. And the two of us... we’re just two Matoran.” And with that, Linke and Recht walked away from her, and from the Dark Hunter’s burnt corpse.

Day Two
“What was that?” Gahla shouted, bursting into Recht Sculpting the next morning, after witnessing Recht and Linke merge into one and kill a Dark Hunter. Linke looked up from the central desk. He had his feet up, and was whittling on a piece of wood with a small knife. “What was what, Detective Gahla?” he asked, before looking back down and continuing his work. She stalked towards his desk, slamming her fists down on it, “Cut the charade!” She shouted, “What was that fusion back there? How did you and... Recht become a Toa? And what is this with you using his name, but that other guy being Recht?” Linke drew his feet off the desk and stood up, walking around her back, still whittling on the piece of wood. Scrapings were left behind as he walked. “That look like a Muaka to you?” he asked, tossing the wood at her. She caught it and fumbled around with it, then slammed the piece of wood down, “Linke! Answer me, or go back to prison!” He shrugged his shoulders, bending his arms and putting them up in front of him, looking at his palms. He spun around, looking at her, “Oh really? And lose this island to anyone trying to take it? Or to simple Rahi?” He threw his arms down, “No, Detective Gahla. You need me. You can’t touch me!” She ran towards him and grabbed him by the shoulders. She used the momentum to crash him and herself into the closest wall, dazing Linke. “I can do whatever I want!” She shouted, “Need you? We police and detectives do the work. In fact, I should drag you and Recht out of here in chains! Toa are subject to arrest, after all.” “We’re not Toa,” he said. “Cut the act!” She shouted, “You two are a single Toa! I know that! Now, explain yourself to me!” He pushed his palm into her chest, throwing her back. She looked stunned at him. “Assaulting an officer,” she told him. She reached into her robes and drew her knife. “You ever kill a man?” he asked, walking past her. She watched him, still clutching the weapon, but making any move to use it against Linke. “Of course you haven’t,” Linke said. “I see it in your eyes.” He spun around to face her, “I remember when I killed for the first time... or maybe not. Maybe it was Recht... but regardless, I know how it felt. And you’re not cut out for killing, Detective Gahla.” “Just answer my questions,” she said, irritated more than ever. He walked past her again, “Okay, I’ll tell you what I can. Recht and I are a team. The two of us make up a single, dual element Toa. We use a powerful artifact called the Duos Stone. You’d have to ask Recht about that, I don’t know much about it. But, Recht is an isolated genius. I adopted his name as an alias when I came to this island a year ago. It helped us work together, since Recht doesn’t like interacting with people. I was able to be his front, and interact for him. Got that?” Gahla nodded, “Fine. I understand that, more or less, but, give me one reason why you’re so stupid to be here, in the open, as a Toa. To even show me, a detective, that you’re a Toa! You do know I will do everything in my power to arrest you, don’t you?” “No. You won’t, Detective Gahla.” Linke said, “Like I said before, you need us.” “Why?” “Because anything you’ve dealt with, since I’ve been here for the past year, has been small game. Did you really expect to take down a Dark Hunter? No. You need the power that Recht and I deliver to the front,” Linke said. “But, if you don’t keep it a secret, we’ll kill you,” he said with deadly intention. “Threatening an officer,” she reminded him. “I could have you arrested right now.” “Then you lose the island,” he said. “There’s no way around it. You need us.” He walked back and sat down, admiring the wood chunk, which looked vastly deformed, nothing like a Muaka. He wasn’t the talented one, after all. “By the way, did the Dark Hunters’ leader demand to know what happened?” “He sent a messenger.” She replied, “We said a Toa killed him.” Linke fell over in his chair. He struggled to his feet, rubbing his head. “You did what?” he shouted, “How stupid are you? You made Recht and I a target!” He shook his head, walking around to the front, “Wait, no matter. There are plenty of Toa, after all...” “I said that the Toa was two-toned and had two elements,” she told Linke. He slowly turned to face her, “You... you did what now?” “I did my job. Cooperating with them is one of my jobs to keep the island in good order, and to keep our art protected,” she told him. “You really did just mark us,” he told her. “Do you have any idea how many Dark Hunters will come here, looking for us? With only the powers of Air and Fire, we’re as good as dead!” “Only those powers?” she questioned. “At least you have powers, Linke! And what’s that supposed to mean anyway?” “I mean, usually Toa work in teams. They usually have multitudes of elements working for them. We don’t. We’ve only got two elements in one body, not six in six bodies, as a normal team would have,” he answered. “Tell me something,” Gahla said. “Why did you, as a Toa, never try to show you were on our side? There were always rumors around about a fugitive Toa on this island... but the Toa never seemed to do anything...” “Because the laws are a joke,” Linke replied. “You arrest Toa just so they don’t potentially do damage. That’s a stupid law.” She ignored his interjection and continued, “You should have come to us and told us you were helping with crime,” she said. “If the Toa had come forth, we may have been lenient and used your help.” “We did good,” Linke said. “Didn’t you notice that things were accomplished, but no damage was ever done...” He thought for a moment, “Except for a few occasions, that is. But those were unavoidable.” “How about telling me about that street that was leveled a year ago,” Gahla said. “Rather not,” Linke replied, thinking back to the first time he and Recht had merged. He liked to keep that memory buried. “Fine. But still, you could have given us some indication you were working for good,” Gahla said. “What did you want?” Linke questioned. “Did you want us to go into battle and say something corny like ‘Now, recount your sins!’, or, ‘It’s time to pay for your crimes!’?” “No... no.” She shook her head, “But just something!” Linke sighed and walked towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at Gahla, “Detective Gahla, there’s a crime.” “What are you talking about?” she questioned. A moment later, an Onu-Matoran broke into the room. “Detective Gahla! We’re needed!” he called. She nodded, “Right, Derr.” Then she looked to Linke, “We’ll continue our conversation later. And you can tell me how you knew Detective Derr was coming.” “Can’t I do that on the way?” Linke questioned. “Way to where, Recht?” Gahla questioned, bringing up the façade for the moment. “I’m going to help you two,” he announced. There was silence for a few moments. Then, Derr started to laugh. His booming laugh filled the room. “You? The famous sculptor, Recht, are going to help us solve this crime?” Derr questioned. “You don’t even know what it is.” “No,” Linke replied, “but, when you came in here about six months ago, requesting some work done, I did it free of cost, since you do such good work for the island. Now, time to repay me. Let me help you two.” “Don’t you have things to sculpt?” Derr questioned. “Nope. Not today,” Linke replied. He slapped Derr on the back, “How ‘bout it? Time to repay me? Or, should I tell your Chief that you...” “Okay, okay!” Derr quickly said, “You can come. It’s a murder investigation.” Linke nodded, “Great. Let me lock up, and I’ll be right with you two.” He turned and walked towards his desk. Gahla glared at Derr, “What is he threatening to tell to the Chief?” “I... I’d rather not talk about it,” Derr said. Linke walked towards them and they walked out, allowing him to close the doors behind them. He thrust the key into the lock, and then into a pouch he wore on his left side. “Okay, let’s go,” he said. Standing over the corpse of the Matoran proved to be a usual sight for both Derr and Gahla. It proved to be unique to Linke. He had killed before, but, he had never stood over a corpse. He had left corpses behind. That was what he and Recht always did. “Too much for you, ‘Recht’?” Gahla questioned, hoping that it would be, and he would depart. Linke shook his head, “No. No. I’m fine.” “Any identification?” Gahla asked Derr. “Other than the obvious, no. All we’ve got is he’s a De-Matoran, but that’s self-evident, and, that the cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head,” Derr replied. Linke crouched down, running his hand over the back of the head. Immediately, Derr grabbed his wrist and yanked back. “Recht!” he snapped, “This is a crime scene!” “Something’s not right,” Linke replied, pulling his wrist free. “Can’t you see it?” “See what?” Derr questioned. “Just look.” Linke replied, pointing to the head, “The Kanohi.” Derr looked at it, “I don’t see anything,” he replied. “Roll the body over,” Linke said, Irritation filled his voice. Derr and Gahla looked to each other. They were the only detectives on the case. Sure, there were police around, but, they were the only ones with the authority at the moment to do anything to the corpse. It was their call to roll it onto its’ back, allowing the dead eyes behind the Kanohi Kakama to look up at them. “What did you want to show us?” Derr demanded of Linke. “You mean to tell me that you don’t see it?” Linke questioned. He shook his head, “Man, I could be a great detective...” “Recht!” Both Gahla and Derr snapped at once. “Fine, fine,” Linke said. He crouched down, onto the balls of his feet. He had his finger out, just shy of the top of the Kakama. He moved his finger around, as if to show them something at that location. “I don’t see it,” Gahla said. “Me neither,” Derr put in. “I thought you were two of the best,” Linke replied. “It’s literally staring you in the faces!” “The Kanohi!” Gahla called. Linke nodded, “Exactly.” Derr slowly nodded, “Yeah... but, that doesn’t account for everything. What if someone caught him?” Of course they were referring to the fact that a blunt force blow to the back of the head would send the victim to the ground. The problem was that his Kanohi wasn’t damaged. It should at least show some signs of damage from crashing into the hard ground, with the force of the fall and body of the Matoran on top of that. “If someone caught him, there would be at least two figures,” Linke said. “And by all accounts, only one was seen fleeing. A Matoran, right?” Gahla nodded, “Okay. So, maybe it was just luck, or, no one saw the second.” “No,” Linke said, shaking his head. “This guy is smart. He’s blinded you two. And nearly me, too.” “How are you so certain of any of this?” Derr questioned, “You’re just a sculptor.” “But you forget,” Linke replied, looking into Derr’s eyes, “I’m brilliant.” He pointed down at the corpse, without looking. “When I make a piece of work, I put my insignia into it, to show that it was made by me, ‘Recht’. I have an eye for detail, as you know. But, by putting the insignia in, I also have an eye for where it wouldn’t take away from the art, and, where it would still be noticed as my work. The second may just be a coincidence, but, I believe the wound on his chest is out of the way, if you ask me. I don’t think it’s a calling card.” Both detectives crouched by the body. They closely examined the upper right piece of his breastplate of armor. There was a small, nearly hidden, wound. It was a slit, but, upon a closer look, they could both make it out as larger on the inside. A fatal wound, severing several internal organs. “A thin entrance wound, a large internal result,” Gahla observed. Linke nodded, “Very good. You get an ‘A’ for the day,” he said, rather bored. He stretched his back, “Okay, I’m going to leave you two to do the boring work. If you get any leads, you know where to find me.” “How did you notice?” Derr quickly asked, before Linke had gotten too far. “Like I said. I’m a sculptor. I know how to look for detail. However, the wound being bigger on the inside is something I didn’t catch. And the undamaged Kanohi’s just a coincidence that I guessed on, since it wasn’t shattered.” He looked to them, “Remember, I’m not a real detective, I’ve just got an eye for detail. You know where I am if you need me. And I bet you’ll want my help.” Gahla stood up and looked to Derr. As Linke was walking off, Derr told her, “I don’t think we’ll want his help again. He annoys me.” Gahla knew the truth, however. She knew that he was important. He was an illegal Toa on Doppel Nui. He had to be monitored, and potentially, eliminated or arrested. She shook her head, “No. He’s good. I think we’ll need him in the future.” “Are you serious?” Derr questioned, disapprovingly. “I know you’re the Senior Detective,” Gahla said. She herself was well known, and good, but, she was only just starting, in terms of the years Derr had been doing it. However Derr may have come off as the less capable, he was actually her superior, “but, can I make this call?” “Fine,” Derr replied, “If you want him, I’ll allow him to stay.” “Thanks,” Gahla replied. “And besides, keeping an eye on him will be good practice for when I get to your rank.” For she knew he would be a handful.

Day Three
“Linke, what do you think you’re doing?” Recht asked, chipping away at a slab of marble, starting a new sculpture. Apparently, despite it being so early, Recht wasn’t tired. Apparently, he didn’t get tired when he had an image he needed to sculpt. Linke yawned, “What do you mean?” the Ta-Matoran asked, taking a swig of water from a canteen. “Working with the detectives,” Recht replied. “We have a job to do here, and if they find out about us... ” “You know I’m working with Detective Gahla,” Linke replied. “And she knows, since you decided to let her follow and see us fight.” “You didn’t exactly try to stop her from seeing. And besides, we needed her, since you were in prison,” the Le-Matoran replied. “If you wanted to, you could have busted me out, you know,” Linke replied. “If I had brought the Stones, then we’d have had trouble,” Recht replied, “And everyone would’ve escaped in the destruction, and for what? To keep our identities concealed.” Linke didn’t answer for a moment. He turned to his partner, “We’ve been marked, by the way.” Recht didn’t seem fazed by it. “You know what that means, right?” Linke questioned. “Their leader, ‘The Shadowed One’, knows a Toa is here! He’ll send Dark Hunters after us for killing his other Hunter!” “We can handle them,” Recht answered. “Do you know how many we’ll have to fight?” Linke again questioned. “With only Fire and Air on our side, we’re outmatched and gravely outnumbered!” “Then we just need to step up our skills and power,” Recht replied. “Do you have a plan?” Linke asked him. Recht nodded, “I’m working on it, don’t worry.” “How long?” Linke asked. “One week,” Recht replied. Linke nodded, “Okay then.” He looked up the stairway, “I should head topside. See if Detective Gahla’s come back for today. Maybe they got a new lead.” “Just don’t forget who you are, Linke,” Recht said. Linke nodded. “A fugitive. A Toa. I know,” he replied, walking slowly up the spiral staircase. Gahla stood waiting at the desk for him. She figured he was down below, talking to Recht, but couldn’t find the key to go down there herself. She figured it was best to leave them to their privacy, however. Finally, the door opened, and Linke walked out. He looked to Gahla, “Detective, don’t you knock? Or is barging into a building something in your job description?” “The door was unlocked.” she replied. “And this is a business. You didn’t plan too well. What if a client saw you walking out of there?” “Client? Please. They know not to walk in. They know to leave a message at the door. I take it once a day to Recht, he reads the requests, and we get in touch with whomever he wants to do work for. I have no need to lock my doors,” Linke explained. She gestured to the twisted piece of work that was suspected as a murder weapon two days prior, “You don’t want to protect pieces like this? That you don’t sell?” “With great detectives like you, no need to,” he replied. “We’d find whoever stole these one-of-a-kind pieces in no time.” “Unless they get smuggled or sold off island,” she told him. He shrugged, “Possibilities, possibilities. So, any leads on the murder?” “Yes,” Gahla answered. “That’s why I’m here. I thought you’d be interested in seeing this.” “Seeing what?” he questioned. “Oh, you’ll see. It seems right up your alley,” she replied, leading the way. Sitting in a painter’s studio was a frightened Ga-Matoran. Around her were wires, threatening to sever her body parts if tripped by the seemingly insane Ko-Matoran sitting behind the paints and canvas. Police were all around the building. Weapons were all drawn, not that daggers or spears would do much against him, at least not with this situation. “He’s the murderer?” Linke questioned, walking into the throng of police with both Gahla and Derr. The Onu-Matoran nodded, “He admitted to the murder when we questioned him upon arrival. He’s threatening to kill her as well, if we don’t meet his demands.” “And they are?” Linke inquired. “Well, this Matoran is a scholar,” Derr explained. “He’s brilliant. He left a life of solitude to come here and work as an artist. Or so he said. His art wasn’t very good, yet he managed to pawn it off anyway. You see... he plays mind games. He manipulated people into buying it. But now, he took things one step farther...” “He made an effective kill, and wanted to try to see if anyone could solve the crime,” Linke finished. Derr nodded. “I get it. The wound sizes are very good. Very tricky. But, how did we trace it to him?” “We got a new witness,” Gahla said. “We were told he was a Ko-Matoran wearing a sandstone-colored Hau. He’s the only one matching that description. Cops came to question him, and this unfolded.” Linke nodded, “So, what are his demands exactly?” “A game of wits,” Derr replied. “Game of wits?” Linke skeptically questioned. “As I said, he’s a scholar. A genius who loves mind games,” Derr repeated. “Well, part of this mind game, this plot, is another mind game. A game of wits.” “And that game?” Linke questioned. “See for yourself, Recht,” Derr replied, gesturing towards the building. Inside, sitting on a table, was a flat board, laid out in a grid formation. There were flat tiles of two different colors in various squares on the board. Each had different marks on them. “How’d he get that here?” Linke muttered. “Snuck it through customs,” Derr answered. “Or at least, that’s the assumption.” “Aren’t they thorough enough to find that thing?” Linke questioned. “Should have been,” Derr replied. “But we don’t know how it got in. And because we also don’t know when, we can’t find those on duty from that time.” “So, he wants someone to play against him?” Linke wondered aloud. Gahla nodded, “Yeah, we’re trying to get someone down here to play him. But so far, we haven’t got in touch with him.” “Who?” Linke inquired. “Our psychologist,” Gahla replied. “He’s a brilliant man, a Le-Matoran. Full of wit. No doubt he could play a good game, and win.” “I’m not going to let you risk one of your own,” Linke said. He pushed through the throng of police. They tried to restrain him, and even turned their weapons on him, but he pushed through and ran into the building, flinging the doors open. “Recht!” the two detectives called. He ignored them and pushed the doors closed. He quickly sealed them, with a board through the handles, then turned, seeing the Ga-Matoran hostage tense as her would-be assailant held the wires tighter. “One more step, and she dies,” the Ko-Matoran hissed. Linke put his hands up, “My name is... ” “Recht. Famous sculptor. I know,” the Ko-Matoran replied. “Okay. You know me. What’s your name?” Linke questioned. “My name is Unik,” the Ko-Matoran simply replied. “Okay, Unik,” Linke said. He walked as far away from the hostage as he could, moving towards the board, “As you can see, I have no weapons on me.” He was thankful he wasn’t wearing his pouch. He didn’t want Unik to check him, and find his half of the Duos Stone. He may know something about it, but Linke didn’t want to possibly tip his and Recht’s hands in any way with the knowledge possibly exposed. “What are you doing?” Unik questioned. “You’re the genius,” Linke replied. “Don’t you see?” “I see. I see alright. But what I don’t get is why a sculptor would play me at a game of Uuk-Koi,” Unik told him. “I’m not going to let anyone in the force risk their lives in this,” Linke said, taking the seat farthest from the hostage. “Well, do you want to play me? Or, do you want another opponent?” Unik rose. He kept the wires in one hand, and walked to his seat. He looked across the board at Linke, showing no fear in starting this game. He tucked the wires into his belt. One forceful tug would still cut her through. She made no moves to move against his losing attention of her. And the police made no moves to break in and try to free her. “You’re sure about this, right?” Unik questioned. “I respect you as an artist, Recht. As a brilliant sculptor, and I’d hate to destroy that mind of yours' if I didn’t have to.” “I’m ready,” Linke said. He put his hands out. The right as a closed fist, the left over top of it, open palm facing down onto his other fist. “Well then, let’s commence,” Unik replied, mimicking Linke’s hands. The white tiles were on Unik’s side. The black were for Linke. Unik was starting. With mere force of mind, the white tile closest to Linke rose into the air, flipped back, and landed atop a black tile. The tiles glowed for a moment, and then, flipped onto their long sides, pressed against one another. A surge shot through both tiles, and into the minds of their respective owners. The pain was unbearable by most standards. However, Linke was used to fusing with the Duos Stone. This pain was nothing. Yet, it still hurt more than anything other than the Stone was capable of, at least, for him. Both Matoran exerted a mental bolt into their pieces. The energy surged through the two tiles, clashing against each other. The mind of Linke fought the mind of Unik. The two Matoran struggled for a few moments, both showing pain in their eyes, but neither crying out in pain. The game was banned on all islands but Stelt, or so it was told. Likely, other islands had it, but just didn’t admit to it, for fear of being judged by trade partners. The game was a battle of minds. Two players sat with various tiles laid out before them in various positions. Moving one tile one square per turn, they had to destroy every tile that their opponent had. The pain in the mind was excruciating. It was a powerful struggle that usually left the winner unconscious, the loser dead. The winner being unconscious was the best result for the winner, as far as Linke had ever heard. Sometimes the winner had lost their sanity, or had become brain damaged, or ended up brain dead. And sometimes, they even died. The loser always died, however, at least that’s what he’d heard. Finally, the struggle ended. The black tile flew into the air, and shattered into dust. The mental backlash struck Linke. He cried in pain, slumping down onto the board. He panted hard as the waves of pain started to weaken. He pushed himself up. His entire body shook. He put his hands back out again, “Okay. I’m ready.” “Your move,” Unik said calmly, clearly sure of victory. Whoever won the first battle was usually assured a victory. They could use the first pain in the mind of their opponent to destroy them. With a small force of mental control, Linke’s piece moved. It landed atop the previous victor, and the battle began. This time, Linke was taking no chances. He was used to being a Toa. He knew how to use a Kanohi. He used the mental control he learned from his time merged, and immediately shattered Unik’s piece. This time Unik cried out. He glared at Linke. “Where did that burst of power come from? You shouldn’t have won that quickly, even in a first match! You shouldn’t be able to win against me, period!” he shouted. He shook his head, “No matter.” He put his hands back out, moving his next piece. He attacked another of Linke’s pieces on the corner of the board, and began the battle anew. This time, even though Linke pressed his advantage of superior mental control, Unik fought back harder. The two clashed for two minutes before Linke’s flew up, shattering and sending waves of pain shooting through his body. He cried out, but immediately returned to the base stance. “I’m ready,” he panted. After another fifteen minutes, it was down to three pieces for Unik, and one for Linke. Unik was grinning smugly. No doubt he would win. Linke didn’t have the mental discipline remaining to fight all three of them in a row. Every battle he would take more and more damage to his mind. He could potentially win two, but the third would be impossible. However, Unik would take damage from losses, of course. Unik paid no attention to that. He had Linke outnumbered, and his winning streak was simply showing he had superior mental fortitude, regardless. “Make your move,” Unik sneered. Linke put his hands out and flipped his piece. He fled away from Unik’s pieces. “No you don’t,” Unik jeered, moving to close him in. After three turns for each passed, Linke was boxed into a corner. Unik had a piece right there, waiting for him. And it was Linke’s turn. Linke attacked. “Fool!” Unik shouted, engaging him instantly. In ten seconds, the black tile flew up and shattered. Linke cried in pain, and fell from his seat to the ground. “You fool,” Unik decried. “Such a shame, Recht. You played well, but lost to the superior mind.” Suddenly Unik looked at his shoulder. There was a dagger in it. “No,” Linke panted. “You lose.” Standing behind Unik was Derr, whose dagger had plunged into the Ko-Matoran’s shoulder. “Should have watched the door,” Derr hissed as Unik slumped into unconsciousness.

Day Four, Part 1
The instant burst of light nearly blinded Linke. He looked around the white marble walls of the hospital room he lay in. His head throbbed terribly, and his muscles ached from hitting the ground so hard. “It’s morning,” a soft voice said beside him. He rolled his head to his right, seeing a Ga-Matoran sitting there. It was the same Matoran who had been held hostage by Unik the day before. “Did... did they get him?” Linke asked through a painfully dry throat. She nodded, “Yeah. They arrested him.” “How?” he asked. “You distracted him with that game. When the two of you were really into it, Detective Derr got in through a small side entrance. He managed to cut me free with his knife, and retie the wires to keep them tight for Unik. Then he snuck up on the Ko-Matoran, and stabbed him in the shoulder, so he could be brought in for questioning.” She leaned over the bed, “But Recht... I have a question for you.” “Go ahead,” he said. “You lost,” she put bluntly. “How are you alive?” Linke’s superior mind was a result of the Duos Stone. He was used to having two minds at once, and as a result, had higher mental control, enough so to take advantage in a game of Uuk-Koi. However, not enough to beat someone like Unik, who was truly a genius. If he had to guess, Linke would have said that the higher mental control had allowed him to survive. He was used to the strain on the body, and having a powerful mind. The resulting combination must have kept him alive, against all odds. “What happened to Unik?” Linke questioned. “Is his brain damaged?” “Only if you count him being sadistic as being brain damaged,” she chuckled, despite the serious situation, which had unfolded only twenty-four hours earlier. He nodded, “I understand.” He looked outside, staring up at the clouds in the sky, and the birds flying about. Out at the magnificent structures that adorned the Isle of Doppel Nui. “I owe you,” she said. He looked to her, “For saving you? No. It was my duty.” “You’re a sculptor. Not a detective nor a cop,” she said. “It wasn’t your duty. You just did it to save me, right?” He had meant it was his duty as a Toa. But, he couldn’t let that be known. So, he simply nodded. “Right. It was my pleasure then,” he corrected. There was a clear knocking coming from the door. It opened, and Detective Gahla poked her head in. “Recht. You ready to go?” He nodded, despite the intense throbbing that followed, “Yeah. I’m ready to go.” He pushed his legs over the side of the bed and came to the ground. His knees buckled, dropping him to the ground. “Recht!” The two Ga-Matoran called, crouching to his side and helping him to rise. He grinned, “I’m fine. I’m fine. You two can let me go.” They didn’t release him. They continued towards the bed with him. “I’m fine!” he complained. “I just want to get on with my jobs!” Gahla thrust him onto the bed, “No. You still need to rest, I see. Derr and I can continue with this case on our own. We just need to interrogate Unik, and then put him in jail. Don’t worry, Recht. You did your part already for us.” “Does this mean you’ll let me keep working with you?” he questioned. “Depends,” she replied. “Are you going to continue putting yourself in harm’s way like this?” “Of course,” Linke retorted. “Then maybe,” she responded. “I’ll have to discuss it with our Chief.” “Do that,” Linke said. “I want to keep working on crimes with you two.” “I’ll ask. We’ll see,” she replied before walking out. The other Ga-Matoran took her seat. She spoke again, “By the way... my name is Halen.” “Okay, Halen. It’s a pleasure to have saved you.” Linke said with a bit of disdain, though mostly just annoyed by Gahla. “I’m tired... can you please leave me to my rest?” “Of course,” Halen replied, taking no offense to Linke’s words. She walked to the door and slid it open. She took one step out. “Bye, Recht,” she said before walking out completely. Linke watched the door for a minute. When he was satisfied no one was entering, he rolled out of bed, collapsing onto one knee. He pushed himself up, holding the windowsill in both hands and pulling himself upright so that he could look outside. He was on the second story of the two-story building. This wasn’t good. He needed to contact Recht to come and help him out of this place. He didn’t want to stay at the hospital... he had work to do. He looked into the street below. He saw Gahla and Halen speaking briefly. Gahla was gesturing momentarily about something, and then turned to walk down one street, towards the police department. After a minute of standing around, Halen started to follow her, down the same road towards the police department. “What?” he muttered. If she wanted part in the interrogation process, or they needed to question her – which they probably did the day before – she would have gone immediately. Not a minute later. Something was wrong. Linke struggled towards the door, collapsing on the bed halfway there. He pushed himself up and grabbed the door, putting his weight on it. He slid it open and began the long, arduous trip towards the first floor and the door. ''How did it lead to this? How did it lead to murder?'' That’s what Derr wondered as he looked across the table into the cold, dead eyes of their suspect, Unik. While he was arrested for attempted murder and possession of illegal items – the Uuk-Koi game – they had no firm clue that he was their first murderer. There was the description and the details after they moved in, but that was it. He could have done something completely different and could have thought they were after him for that. “Did you murder this Matoran?” Derr questioned, sliding the tablet across the table. The tablet had the image of a Matoran engraved, and the image of the scene of the crime was also engraved. Unik didn’t even bother looking at it. He simply said, “Well, what are the wounds?” “Blunt force trauma to the back of the head to throw us off. A small wound to the chest which is deeper inside than it is outside.” Derr explained. “No.” Unik replied. “No?” Derr questioned. “So, you’re saying you didn’t murder this De-Matoran, right?” “I didn’t even know there were any De-Matoran on the island,” Unik replied. “He was coming in from a ship in our harbor,” Derr continued. “He wasn’t a citizen of this island.” “Then no,” Unik replied. “Any murders I would have committed...” Would have? He was trying to imply that he had never murdered. “...would have been against those living on this island. I have no business with visitors nor traders.” “Are you sure about that?” Derr questioned. “What if one ripped you off? Or offended you? We know you’re sadistic. So, what stopped you from trying to kill someone?” “Look at my residence,” Unik replied. “I don’t live anywhere near the sea. I’m too far inland to have met any traders from other lands. I don’t venture far from my home or studio.” “There’s too much evidence pointing in your direction,” Derr replied. “Need I remind you that you admitted to murder when we arrived for you?” “You just said ‘murder’,” Unik replied. “You never said he was a De-Matoran.” “But you just said you never murdered,” Derr growled. “Fine, fine,” Unik said. “I killed two other Matoran. A Ta- and a Ko-Matoran. Have you not found their corpses?” “Where were these murders?” Derr questioned. “Might not be in my division of the island.” Unik shrugged, “Well, I will confess to two murders, and another attempted murder, but, I didn’t kill your De-Matoran.” “Then who did?” Derr questioned, leaning in close. “I don’t know,” Unik replied. Derr stood up and walked to the door. He walked outside and took the corner to see Detective Gahla. She was listening through the observation room’s thinner wall. “I don’t know,” She said. “I’m not sure if he did it or not.” “Regardless, we arrest him for what he confirms, and we keep our eyes out for any other suspicious murders,” Derr said. She nodded in agreement. The two walked into another room to file the reports with some officers. They would escort Unik into prison and be sure he was kept locked up. They carried more capable weapons than Gahla or Derr did, and were more capable in combat. That was the requirement for officers. As the two detectives and two officers walked back towards the interrogation room to get their suspect, they saw the door open. Not only open, but blown off two of its’ hinges. The four rushed into the room. They saw Unik’s corpse slumped against the wall, three wounds in his chest. All small slits which were bigger on the inside than the outside. “Seal the perimeter,” Gahla ordered the officers. The two rushed out the door, calling for more officers and a lockdown to be commenced. Gahla looked to Derr. He shook his head. “I have no ideas,” he said. They both looked up at the same time, seeing a figure clinging to the ceiling of the room. It was Halen. She dropped down and laughed. She threw her head up and laughed more and more, very sadistically. The two detectives drew their daggers and held them out, ready for trouble. But Halen made no moves. She looked at them, a maniacal grin on her face. “Do you want to know how they died?” she questioned. She threw her arms out in response to her own question. Six long, thin tentacles erupted from her back. Each ended in a spear-like tip, each writhed around like a snake, and all under her control. “I’m the perfect Dark Hunter,” she hissed, walking towards the two detectives. “Who would suspect me? A Ga-Matoran who was a victim in this? Well, two quick deaths and no suspicions on me. I guess this is a successful experiment that ‘The Shadowed One’ has going, wouldn’t you say?” As she backed them into the wall, her tentacles slashed towards them, cutting deep into the walls. She was simply toying with them. As the tentacles moved in for the kill, the two detectives rushed outside, managing to duck them, and reach the momentary safety of the hallway. They both looked at the shouting guards. There was someone running in, wearing crimson armor. Linke. “Recht!” both detectives shouted. Linke’s body and mind were still wracked with pain. He could fight, however. He had to try to save the two detectives and battle against Halen. She glared at Linke then hissed, “Recht, I will spare you if you leave. Now! I commend you for your bravery against Unik. So... go and you live. Stay and die.” He walked forward, shaking his head. Each step sent pain rippling through his body. He glared at her and came up into a fighting stance. His left arm was at his chest; his right was out, his right side facing her. “Come on,” he challenged. “I’ll be your opponent.” “Recht!” the two detectives yelled. “You can’t fight her!” Gahla snapped. “She’ll kill you!” “I’ll take the chance,” Linke replied. He rushed forward, rolling under every stinger as they came. He shifted onto his back and slammed both feet into her chest. She went flying back and crashed into the far wall. Linke rushed forward. A tentacle whipped at him, grazing his shoulder, but the blade had at least missed. He plowed his fist into her chest. She cried out in pain. He grabbed her throat and rolled onto his back, then rammed his feet into her chest, using the previous grip to send her flying back, into the table behind him. Linke got up and rushed after her. She rolled over and launched all six spear-tips forward, ready to impale the Ta-Matoran. Linke leapt up, going through the center of the tentacles. He landed atop two of them, forcing them down. She cried out and reared every other tentacle, ready for impalement. Linke yanked forward on the tentacles he had, offsetting Halen, and pulling her at him. He leapt up and kicked her face, sending her spiraling into the wall once more. Even without Recht, even without becoming a Toa, Linke knew how to fight better than most Matoran could. He rolled under the table to the door. He looked at the two detectives and held his hands out, “The daggers!” They quickly passed him their weapons. He flipped them point down and rushed in. She was rising again however, and sent the tentacles forward once more. He rolled through a gap and reached for her body. He pulled both arms back, and rammed them forward, driving the daggers into her shoulders. She screamed in pain, retracting the tentacles most of the way. The two Matoran struggled for a few moments, before Linke took control and rammed her as hard as he could into the wall. The two broke through, rolling across the ground. He kicked her, tearing the daggers out of her shoulders. Her body went flying out the window of the station, landing outside on the ground. He ran out the door after her, discarding the daggers as he moved. He panted, but returned to his fighting stance. She struggled to her feet, straining to keep her tentacles ready for battle. But, she was too tired to continue. He ran at her and leapt up, slamming his foot into her, sending her stumbling backward. She crashed into the ground hard and rolled, and continued rolling towards the small lake near the station. As she rose, he rammed his fist into her chest again and she continued to stumble back. He crouched and swept her feet out from beneath her and as she fell, he rammed his foot into hers, sending her flying back, into the lake. He stood over the placid waters as she sank into the depths. It was over.

Day Four, Part 2/Day Five
Linke looked over his shoulder. He saw the two detectives rushing towards him, still clutching their weapons as if Halen would return from the depths and take revenge. “Don’t worry!” Linke called. “I got her!” The Protodermis splintered at the feet of the two detectives and the eruption of stone sent the two of them flying. They smashed into nearby walls, and slid down, luckily only dazed. Linke looked back to the water quickly. There he saw it. Air bubbles. Massive air bubbles. Something was rising. Like some form of grotesque, mutant, crab-like Rahi it rose. It had a large, blue, shelled body, lined with spikes along the carapace, going to the sides. The top, curving up, and then down, also had spikes. The head protruded with a long, scaled, almost fleshy-looking neck and had what looked like a shell of its’ own as a helmet of sorts, as well as two crimson eyes glaring from within, and rows of razor-sharp fangs. It had a long, whip-like, yet thick, tail. That too was lined with spikes and segmented like an insect. It also had eight spindly legs coming from beneath the shell, and two large, crab-like pincers. Each pincer blade was at least as large as a Toa or similar being, and as thick as a Matoran. Coming from between gaps in the spikes along the shell were the whip-like protrusions that had previously come from her back. Halen in her monstrous form rose onto her tail, showing the underside of her shell to Linke. While she floated like this, glaring down at him, pincers snapping, she looked to be nearly seven bio tall. “Linke!” Linke glanced to the side. He saw a lime green armored Matoran rushing in his direction from a side street, carrying the two pouches. Linke looked up at Halen, but it was too late. One of the whip protrusions struck him, sending him flying – in Recht’s direction, thankfully – into a wall, bringing it all down atop him, seemingly crushing his body. Gahla and Derr were trying to get up, but were too shocked by the site to move. They couldn’t will their bodies to move, to even run for cover. Fear filled their very existences. They were petrified. “What now?” she heard Derr mutter under his breath. “We have hope,” Gahla told him. From under the rubble protruded a hand in the direction of the alley. Recht took hold of it, pulling his partner to freedom. He quickly thrust the bag into Linke’s other hand. “We have to be quick,” Recht said. “If you care about those detectives, that is.” Linke nodded, panting and rising to his feet. He held his half of the stone in his left hand. Recht had his half in his right. The axis of power spread out around them. The power overlapped their bodies, and the eruption of light brought them together. Linke’s screams soon died out as a new figure stood beside the rubble. The shockwave of power sent the rubble flying, leaving only a few pieces behind. He stepped over it, walking towards the lake. Halen glanced down, taking notice of the newcomer. She laughed and turned her monstrously mutated body towards the Toa. “I can complete my job,” she hissed. Her voice was deep and booming, very sinister. It was as if being spoken to by a Makuta. That was how ominously she spoke, and how her voice flowed. It was the voice of a monster. That was the only way to explain it. The two voices spoke in unison, “Halen, what has become of you?” “This is the power bestowed upon me to destroy you!” she laughed. “This is also the power that will be granted to all Dark Hunters, if I’m successful here. Then the Brotherhood shall lose their foolish war!” Linke’s hand came up, brushing his fingers against his side of the Kanohi, continuing into the air, and then letting his arm fall back down to his side. The Toa shook his head. “Too bad for the Dark Hunters then,” he said. “Because you won’t survive this.” “Die!” Halen screamed, sending the whips down. Rows of blades filled the sky as they all came down at the single target. “Recht,” Linke said. Recht nodded the body, “I know.” He threw his arm out, unleashing his elemental powers. The wind funneled into a cyclone, capturing all of the whips together into one. He threw his arm to the side, tossing them into the ground, away from anyone who could have been harmed. Linke brought his arm up. He turned his fingers into the conventional “gun” look, and took aim. He flicked his wrist up, unleashing a bullet of fire at Halen. The fireball struck her underbelly, but did nothing. She only laughed. The monstrous right claw came down, crushing the ground around them. Only Recht’s quick wits had saved them, using a rapid burst of air to move them fast enough out of the way. They slid to a stop and looked up. The next claw came down. “Ready?” Recht questioned. Linke’s voice came from the mouth next, “Yeah. Let’s end this.” The body of the Toa jumped back at the last moment, escaping all but the cloud of smoke that was thrown up from impact. The Toa leapt up, running up the long arm of the beast. The right hand generated wind, the left created fire. As they reached the elbow, they rose up, using a burst of wind to propel them higher. They floated before her head, and put the hands together. A flaming cyclone blasted her face, causing her to scream in agony from the strike. She had to dive under, but the body of water wasn’t deep enough to hide her entire body, and she knew they would just attack anything still exposed. She fought through the pain like any Dark Hunter would and screamed in their direction, unleashing a blast of power from her mouth. Using a flick of Recht’s wrist, they created a spurt of wind to propel themselves up, over the burst of energy, and they used the wind to start to spin, faster and faster, until they were clear above her head. Fire and wind overtook the body, creating a flaming cyclone around them. They shot down, spiraling towards her head like a flaming drill. The attack struck her exposed head, smashing into the shell like a piece of armor. She cried out in pain, bringing her right claw up. She smashed it into the Toa’s body, sending him flying down. Recht unleashed a quick burst of wind, propelling them onto the land again. They both panted and looked up. “It didn’t work,” they said as one unified voice. “Now what?” “Recht,” Linke said through the mouth. Recht’s voice came out next. “I see,” he replied, reading their conjoined thoughts. “Well?” “It’s the only shot we’ve got left, since the finisher didn’t work,” Recht answered. The Toa nodded. “It’s decided then,” they said as one. Halen looked down on them. She laughed, and screamed down at them, unleashing her power scream attack again. The Toa ran aside, rushing for a nearby building. They leapt up, landing on an artful arch that protruded out over the lake. Recht clenched his fist tight, and it began to pulsate green, as he threw it down at the lake. He unleashed his innate powers of wind into the lake, creating a powerful cyclone beneath it, all focused on Halen’s body. She screamed as the unexpected cyclone struck her body, taking her into the air. “If we can’t win in the water. We remove you from your element, into ours!” the Toa called out as she was shot out of reach of the water. Recht’s side of the body began to pulsate further, a signal that he was almost out of power. He wouldn’t need much more though. “Linke,” Recht said. Linke clenched his fist, and put it over his chest. The Duos Stone within him momentarily glowed. He moved his fist down with his arm. His side of the body began to pulsate crimson as his fist started to burn. With each pulsation the flames grew. While they were large already, it was just for show. There was power in the fist that wasn’t flame. “Keep some of your power, you know,” Linke warned as they leapt up. “I know,” Recht replied. His foot began to pulsate the same way that Linke’s fist was. They used that built up power to launch themselves higher, up towards Halen. She looked down at them, unleashing her whips again. Once more the blades whistled through the air as they came down at the Toa. The Toa’s body began to spin around. The foot began to unleash a cyclone, miniaturized and attached. With each spin, it stayed atop the foot, simply using the rotation in all directions to knock any attacks aside. As they came up the shell, they began to slow down, approaching her face without the spin. They reached above her eyes and at that instant Linke punched. The flaming punch struck down, striking her between Halen’s eyes. She screamed out as power tore through her body. In a burst of light, she was normal-sized again, but the whips still came from her back. The two figures fell from the sky, crashing down into the water from at least eleven bio in the air. As they fell, a light erupted from the Toa, splitting him back into the two Matoran who formed him. Linke quickly grabbed Halen’s body as they fell. He looked to Recht who stayed close. The water felt like cement as they broke through. Linke opened his mouth to scream in pain, but water forced its’ way in, and no voice escaped him. He saw Recht briskly swimming for shore. He had to get away, quickly. Linke pushed Halen’s body to the surface, and swam as well. The light should have hid their de-fusion. And with them falling side by side as they had, they could have looked like the Toa yet, hopefully anyway. Linke ran for the rubble, and dove under it. He glanced out, and saw Derr pulling Halen to shore. She was unconscious from all appearances and had a large gash through her Kanohi. Gahla crouched by the rubble, pulling Linke out and to safety. She looked down on him, and whispered, “We’ll talk later.” “That was quite the show yesterday,” Gahla said, walking into the shop in the twilight of dusk the next day. She looked to Linke and Recht at the desk, examining the Duos Stone. “We used all of our power,” Recht explained. He tapped his half, as if hoping the elemental powers would answer his knock. Linke walked towards her. “Let’s talk in the side office,” he said, pulling her into a smaller room furnished with only two chairs and a desk. He took his seat behind the desk. She sat before it, facing him. “What happened to Halen?” Linke questioned. “We took her into custody. We bound her whips so she couldn’t use them, and imprisoned her, waiting to interrogate her. However, by the time morning came, and although the herbs we gave her should have worked, she was dead. Your wound killed her, Linke.” Linke looked down. His eyes betrayed the pain he tried to hide. “She was a murderer. She was also after your life,” Gahla reminded Linke. “I know,” Linke muttered. “But anytime we’ve had to kill someone in the past, it was always half Recht’s fault, or so I always told myself. It was easier than accepting the fact that we had killed someone. That I had murdered someone.” He looked into Gahla’s eyes, “But yesterday, our attack didn’t work. I had to kill her with my own fist.” He clenched his left fist. “I was the one who killed her. I killed her. Recht had no part in it! This kill was all me! Do you know what that feels like, Detective Gahla?” She shook her head slowly, “No. I never killed anyone, Linke. I can’t imagine the pain you feel.” “Our finisher has never failed us in the past,” Linke muttered. “It just had to fail against her. Why did it have to fail? Against her of all people! I risked my life to save her! I risked myself in that accursed game against Unik! And for what? To murder the woman I saved!” “Linke, calm down,” she said quickly. “Please.” He shook his head and stood up, “Detective, with all due respect, you never killed. You don’t know how this feels. You also didn’t have a bond of any sort with a victim. You didn’t know her like I did. I may have barely known her, but I did know her. She was grateful to me. She thanked me for saving her.” He walked to the door, “I think it would be best for you to go, Detective Gahla.” She rose from her chair and nodded, “I understand, Linke.” She walked out into the main room, and then towards the door. She turned around to look at him, “By the way, no one saw you two. Your secret is still safe.” Linke leaned against the desk, looking at his half of the Duos Stone. “Good,” he said simply. She felt the silence as oppressive against her. She turned and walked out the door, leaving the two Matoran alone. “How long?” Linke asked. “Five days,” Recht replied. Linke nodded, “Okay.” “How long do you think it’ll take for the powers to return?” Recht questioned. “I don’t know,” Linke replied. “You’re the one who originally possessed them, not me.” “I mean, do you feel anything?” Recht questioned. “Do you feel a bond that’s telling you?” Linke shook his head, “No. Should I be?” “I feel it,” Recht replied. “Well, you had them longer,” Linke answered. Recht put his half back into his pouch and slung it over his side, wearing it at his right. He walked towards the staircase. “Where are you going?” Linke asked. “To sculpt,” Recht replied, walking downstairs, out of sight of Linke. Recht pulled his half out as he walked. He ran his hand over the rough edge of the Duos Stone. He ran only a finger across, and then tucked it away. He could feel the tingle of the rough edge remaining on his armor for a moment. He could feel his connection to the power. Why can’t Linke? He had only one guess as to why. And he always suspected why. Linke isn’t the one who should hold the other Duos Stone.

Day Ten
“Murder?” Linke asked Derr. “Only attempted,” the Onu-Matoran Detective replied. “The victim was interrogated earlier. He has no idea who attacked him.” “Any leads?” Linke asked. “Nope,” Derr replied. He looked over his shoulder, “Gahla, got anything?” “Yeah,” she replied, passing a tablet to the two of them, “An unmarked ship at the harbor. Seems suspicious, so I had it checked.” “And?” Derr asked. “No inhabitants at the time,” she replied. “But, they found identification.” She pulled a piece of cloth out of her robe. It had the symbol of the Dark Hunters on it. “The Dark Hunter from that ship is our man, I think we can say,” Derr said. “But we don’t get involved in this sort of situation. Let’s find our Dark Hunter, question him, and see what’s happening. For all we know, that Le-Matoran is a criminal from another island.” Linke nodded, “I’ll be right with your investigation. Let me run back to the shop first.” “What could you possibly need from there?” Derr questioned. “I forgot to lock up,” Linke replied before running off, out of the station, and towards his shop. He would need Recht so they could deal with the Dark Hunter. The lanky, black-armored Dark Hunter walked through the streets. His size kept Matoran away from him. The wickedly curved sword he carried on his ornate, black and silver belt didn’t hurt to keep people away with, either. His armor was sleek. He carried little to no bulk, and had an armored face, no Kanohi. He wasn’t a very imposing figure. He stopped and looked down an alley. He saw a dual-toned figure walking towards him. The right side was green and the left was red. “Finally,” the Dark Hunter said, drawing his sword and walking towards them. The Toa rushed him. He leapt up and spun around, propelling himself with wind, and slamming a wind blade kick into the Dark Hunter. He stumbled back and swung. The Toa ducked and plowed a flaming fist into his chest, taking him down. The Toa stood over the Dark Hunter, and called forth a flaming fist again. He drew his arm back to prepare for an attack. “Fool,” the Dark Hunter hissed, kicking his legs out. He rolled to his feet and slashed his sword down. Recht shot his arm out, using a small burst of wind to deflect the sword. They rolled and slammed a kick from Recht into his gut, sending him flying back. The Toa rose to his feet. “We need to end him. Now,” Recht said. “Unless you want to keep using melee on him.” Linke made the head shake, “No. Let’s end him.” Bringing forth a flaming cyclone, they leapt up. They came down like a drill at the weak Dark Hunter, ready for the kill. He laughed and slammed his fist onto the center of his belt buckle. As the attack collided with the Dark Hunter, an explosion tore around them. The Toa rolled back and looked up, waiting. As the smoke cleared, a figure walked out. He was a bit shorter than the Toa, rounded, and covered in thick lairs of armor. He carried a curved axe on his shoulder, and still wore the belt, which was now flashing red at the buckle point. “Like this tool?” the Dark Hunter sneered, directing at his buckle, “Powerful, ain’t it? Strong enough to withstand your finishing attack!” The Toa rose. “Is that true?” Linke asked. “We definitely hit him,” Recht confirmed. “It looks like he’s telling us the truth.” “Well, let’s hit him again!” Linke caused them to run forward, and exerted fire. Recht followed suit, calling on wind. They leapt up, and came down as the flaming cyclone. As the attack hit, they stopped. They were standing on his armor. Their kicks did nothing. “Get off of me,” the Dark Hunter said, rather bored. He swung the axe, clipping their armor and sending them rolling across the ground, away from him. “What now? Full power?” Linke asked. “It’s our only option,” Recht replied, nodding the Toa’s head. Linke put his hand over his side of the chest. The Duos Stone began to glow. His body started to shine with power, and flickered as power entered into his fist. Recht followed suit. His side began to flicker emerald, and his fist began to take on power. A miniature cyclone sprouted from his clenched hand. They ran forward. Their form was failing, and would be gone as soon as the blows made contact. The Dark Hunter stood unmoving. He only laughed. “Let me tell you something. My name is Ekiro. Ekiro of the Invincible Armor!” He swung his axe back. The two fists collided, and plowed as one into Ekiro’s chest. The power erupted into the Dark Hunter, but didn’t defeat him. Ekiro laughed and swung the axe forward, smashing it into their chest. The lack of power, and the blow split them apart, sending them both flying into separate alleys. He looked around, seeing nothing. “Split into atoms?” he muttered and shrugged. “You’ll show yourself eventually!” He rested his axe on his shoulder and walked off, never seeing the two Matoran. “We... we lost,” Recht muttered. He looked to Linke across the street, and shook his head. “It’s up to me,” Recht said. He struggled to his feet, and leaned against a wall. He shoved off and started straggling away, towards an unknown location. Linke watched him go, and struggled to his feet as well. He tried to run after Recht, but fell. “‘Recht’!” Gahla shouted, rushing over with Derr next to her. “What happened?” the Onu-Matoran asked. “Dark Hunter,” Linke panted. “His name is Ekiro.” “Did he do this to you?” Derr questioned. Linke nodded. “We’ve got to stop him then.” Linke looked to him, “He has thick, powerful armor.” He spread his arm out, showing the damage, “The Toa was here. I saw him fight Ekiro while I was beaten down. The Toa couldn’t even break through. He even did that thing that killed Halen, with both fists, and couldn’t win.” “We’ll think of something,” Derr replied. He shook his head, then looked up. “I got it.” “What are you thinking?” Gahla asked. “We capture the Toa. Once he’s gone, so will be Ekiro.” Linke slowly nodded in agreement to play the part, “Yeah, let’s.” He had to figure out how to win, and fast. Recht dug through a pile of stones in a field of scrapped art. As far as he could see, right next to the mountain that split the island in half, were old paintings, sculptures, statues, anything art-related that had failed. The item he was looking for wasn’t a failure, however. It would thrive here, which is why he had put it there. He threw a sculpture aside, and pulled something free. “Got ya,” Recht said, rising and tucking it into his pouch. He slumped away, still feeling the pain from the battle. He needed Linke, and fast so they could fight. Even without much power in the Duos Stones, he knew how to power them back up. He could restore them, and they could fight. After a long day of searching, Linke collapsed in his chair behind the desk. Of course they never found signs of the Toa. Half the Toa had been with them. Recht slumped in. He hurried to the desk with a bad limp, and dropped his pouch on the desk. He looked into the Ta-Matoran’s eyes. “We have to make haste.” Recht said. He pulled his Duos Stone free, “Give me yours’.” Linke pulled the pouch off of his side. Fortunately the two detectives hadn’t questioned what it was earlier. Gahla kept quiet, and Derr didn’t ask. He put the stone on the desk. Recht grabbed it and motioned for Linke to follow. “Let me rest!” Linke complained. “No time.” Recht replied, “We have to go. Now! If we’re going to beat the Dark Hunter, that is.” Linke leaned over the desk, “You have a way to beat him? Okay then, let’s go!” Throwing Linke’s stone into a hot spring was an odd idea to Linke. But he nodded, and tossed it in. The stone sizzled for a moment, and then sank to the bio-deep bottom. “Why?” Linke asked. “It’ll feed on the heat, and restore faster,” Recht answered. He held his stone aloft. “The more wind this gets, the faster it’ll restore.” He walked to the top of a small rock overhang, and pushed the stone atop a small bulge in the rock. It was the highest position he could reach, and, it would get enough wind. “How long?” Linke asked. “We’ll give it an hour, then we’ll let it take its’ natural course,” Recht replied. “That won’t be enough power,” he held his hand up. “And there’s almost no wind.” “Don’t worry about my stone,” Recht replied, sitting down. “Just worry about yours.” Ekiro turned around, looking at the Toa as he walked towards the Dark Hunter, the twilight behind him. He looked wounded and weakened from their earlier encounter. “Back for more?” Ekiro chuckled. He hefted his axe onto his shoulder, “Come on!” “Let me handle him.” Linke said, taking control. He rushed forward and leapt up, spinning around and giving him a fire-powered kick. The kick did nothing. Before the axe could come, they rolled back, getting about a bio away. The Toa rose and threw a fireball forward, seeing it touch the armor and stop. “Got it,” Recht said. “What are you going to do?” Linke asked. “Linke, how many days has it been?” Recht asked. “Since what?” “Since what I told you about.” After a few moments, “One week.” “Right,” Recht replied. He snapped his fingers and looked at the Dark Hunter. “Toa!” a voice shouted. Gahla was running towards them, carrying a pouch in her hand. She threw it forward, towards Recht’s side. “Gahla, run!” Linke shouted, “We might not be able to protect you!” “We will,” Recht assured Linke, pulling the item from the pouch, showing Linke that indeed, it was done. It was another Duos Stone. “What’s that?” Ekiro demanded. Recht thrust it out. It had a small insignia on it. “Your end,” Recht answered, drawing it into his body. The energy axis spread out for a moment, and then, combined into one small item. Recht’s original stone. Now, the Toa was brown on the right and red on the left. Stone and Fire. Recht tossed the Air Duos Stone back to Gahla. He took a fighting position, leading with Stone, and rushed forward. “So much power!” Linke exclaimed to Recht’s mind. “I know,” Recht answered through the body. They ducked the axe, and used an uppercut into Ekiro’s chest. Ekiro stumbled back. The Stone powers were stronger than expected. The Toa span around, sending a shockwave of stones rippling forward. They smashed into the Dark Hunter, sending him flying back with a shout. Recht put both arms out. Fire and stone came to his hands. He put them together, and blasted the attack forth. A molten like substance struck Ekiro, causing him to scream out in pain. He stumbled back, having lost his axe. He tried to clear it off, but couldn’t. They leapt forward, and came smashing down, with a fist to the head. Ekiro cried out again, and stumbled forward. They ducked and swept their Stone leg out, sweeping him off his feet. They came up, and sent that fist crashing down, cracking Ekiro’s armor. A stomp of the foot forced a stone spike into Ekiro’s back, sending him into the air. He stumbled forward again, and fell, panting. “Fire,” Recht said. He raised Linke’s arm and made a gun with his fingers. A fireball shot off, striking Ekiro in the back. Ekiro continued to cry in pain as he crawled forward. It worked. The armor was gone. “Let’s end him,” Recht said, snapping his fingers. Gahla tossed him back the other Duos Stone. He swapped out again, and leapt up in their flaming cyclone. “Only our natural elements can create a finisher,” Recht said. “Only two unnatural elements can create a different finisher, so this is it for us for now!” he called out, coming down in the flaming cyclone. Ekiro looked up and braced himself, throwing his arms up for protection. The kicks made contact, shattering his remaining armor. He fell back, burning. The Toa spun around, snapping his right fingers. “Checkmate,” Recht said. Ekiro erupted into flames, which quickly died out. He was finished. “Amazing,” Linke congratulated. Recht nodded, “I know. I’m the master carver. Am I supposed to be anything less?”

Day Eleven, Part 1
Panting, the Toa leapt into the air, propelling himself with a blast of air. He spun around, landing on a rooftop, and looking into the streets below. The blur of blue was moving too quickly. They didn’t even know what their target was because it was so fast. “There!” they heard. They spun around, seeing Derr leading three police, all armed, and headed straight for them. They turned to face them, generating a fireball into Linke’s hand. He thrust the fireball down, bringing up a wall of smoke as it met the roof of the building. They spun around yet again and leapt off of the building, into the street more than three bio below. The drop took them a moment to recover from. Then they took off running down the street. The figure was still in view. Linke threw his arm forward, unleashing a torrent of flames. They swirled through the street, smashing into the figure from behind for a split second, then the figure entered an alley. They caught up to that spot, but there was no sign of the figure anymore. Recht smashed his hand into a wall, “Linke, we need a new plan.” “I know. What about Stone?” Linke asked back. The head shook, “No. Not fast enough. I can’t make the stones react fast enough to ensnare a target.” “Well, now what?” Linke asked. They heard someone coming. They quickly split back into two and turned around. A moment later, Gahla entered the alley, panting, carrying a pouch with her. “We don’t need it,” Recht told her. “We lost the trail.” “Do the police have any idea on it yet?” Linke asked her. She shook her head, handing the pouch to Recht. He gratefully took it and wrapped it around his waist. “No idea. We suspect Dark Hunter, but we’re not sure,” she replied. “Even with the increased activity from them, we can’t be sure yet.” “Any other open cases for us to work?” Linke asked. He looked to Recht who was still around, instead of departing as usual. “There are two open cases right now. I’m working one, Derr is working another. Our detectives are spread thin trying to track this guy,” she explained. “What are the cases?” Linke looked to Recht, “Maybe we could have a race.” He told the Le-Matoran. Recht walked past her. “I’ll be going,” he said. “Recht!” Linke snapped. “Come on! At least join us for this!” “No. I’m a sculptor, not a cop.” he replied. “You’re a sculptor, yet you’re a Toa too,” Linke told him. “That doesn’t matter.” Recht replied. “My main duty - my only one right now - is to be doing my sculpting.” “Fine, go then,” Linke said. “The three of us can solve these two cases.” “Good for you,” Recht replied before continuing on, and walking out of sight, around a corner. “He’s not the most social, I see,” Gahla said. She looked to Linke. “Well, let’s go to the precinct so you can be briefed on our cases.” He nodded, “Alright. Let’s go then. But first, I need to make a quick stop. I’ll meet you there.” “Okay.” She didn’t ask any questions. She just walked off towards the precinct, leaving Linke to go the other way, but also, away from Recht. About an hour later, Linke finally arrived at the precinct. He looked around, but only saw Derr, working at a desk. He walked towards the Onu-Matoran. “Derr, you seen Gahla around?” he asked. He shook his head, “Nope. Not since we gave up pursuit of that... thing. She broke off to search for the Toa in another direction, trying to cut him off. Haven’t seen her since.” Linke felt an uneasy feeling. “She said she was coming back here, and was going to brief me on your case, and her case. She should have returned at some point. How long have you been here?” “Since right after that speed-thing vanished,” the Onu-Matoran replied. “My men saw Gahla at one point, they said. She was seen talking to a Tai-Matoran.” He looked up, “She never got here...” Linke ran towards her desk with Derr. They quickly found the case file on six different thin slabs of stone. They started to read over them. “A Tai-Matoran is the presumed assailant,” Derr said. He looked to Linke. “Maybe that was him. Maybe he got Gahla.” “I’ll take the case myself,” Linke assured Derr. “I’ll find him.” He shook his head, “No. You take my case. I’ll find Gahla.” “Why, what’s your case?” Linke questioned, trying to get the case to find Gahla instead. “This is no time to negotiate! This is an order, Recht!” Derr snapped, pushing Linke aside so he could get all of the light and read in peace. Linke looked back, but ran towards Derr’s work. If he could quickly finish this case, he could assist Derr in finding Gahla. Derr’s case files consisted of a fairly straightforward assignment. It was to find a serial arsonist. There was no description on who it was. That didn’t matter; Linke had the perfect way to accomplish this task with ease. “You want me to sculpt something like I never have before?” Recht questioned. Linke nodded, “Yeah. Something... new. Something no one’s ever seen before. And fast.” “Why?” the Le-Matoran questioned. “It’s for a case! An important case!” Linke snapped. He shook his head. “I’m under a lot of stress. Can you please do it? And fast?” Recht sighed and pushed the current sculpture of a former warlord aside. He nodded, “Fine. Give me an hour.” “That’s perfect,” Linke replied. He ran to the stairs, and looked back at Recht, “I’ll be back in an hour! Have it done, and on my desk!” Recht nodded, and pulled a new slab of marble onto his worktable. He started to work as Linke ran off, out into the city. As the hour passed, Linke walked inside and took hold of the sculpture. It was very much like Recht’s symbol - which was actually a symbol from both of them - and very much like the twisting design of their not-for-sale piece of work that had been desired by so many. This design was absolutely a trick of the mind. Looking at it, trying to follow the path of it, was enough to give someone a headache. This sculpture was like viewing rapture. He took hold of it and called to the wall, “Thanks!” He ran towards the door and carried it outside. There were mobs of Matoran in the street, all crowding in around the shop. Linke held the statue high as he walked out. “Anyone with information on a Matoran named ‘Linke’, and his connection to the arsons, come forward!” About forty Matoran walked forward into Linke’s view. “You may all go!” he announced. The crowd dropped to about half in size. Those had no information on the arsons, and just wanted the sculpture. They were of no use to him. “Okay, now, the rest of you, I need you to come to the precinct! We’ll question you, and make you swear an oath on Mata Nui’s soul that your information is accurate!” About thirty of the remaining forty-five or so walked out, too superstitious to swear that, just for a piece of beautiful art from the legendary Recht. “The rest of you come with me for questioning!” Linke called, bringing the last batch of fifteen or so with him to the precinct. Derr looked up from his work. He got up and ran towards Linke, pulling him aside, away from the interrogation and waiting rooms. He looked the Ta-Matoran in the eyes, “Recht. What are you doing exactly?” “I know that one of these fifteen has the answers to the crime you were looking into,” Linke replied. “Now, let me do this so I can find the arsonist, and have both of our brains working on Gahla’s disappearance.” “Fine. Just be clean about it,” Derr answered. “I don’t want some crazy Matoran doing damage to this place nor a mob to form. It’s just us here right now, Recht.” Linke nodded and walked towards the room. “Recht!” Linke looked back, “Yeah?” “How did you find them anyway?” “A priceless, one-of-a-kind sculpture as a reward for anyone with information. And I weeded out any pretenders. These fifteen should either have no fear of breaking an oath to Mata Nui, or, actually know something,” Linke said. “Good idea,” Derr replied. “I like that style you’ve got working for you.” Linke saluted him and turned and ran back towards the rooms to begin his questioning. After about eight Matoran, he still had nothing. There was no useful information from any of them. And he found an officer who ran their names through other Matoran. These Matoran wouldn’t have been around during the arsons, which is what they had claimed. They may have heard something from word of mouth, but Linke doubted it. He listened closely to the tones of their voices, and picked up acute changes. That, and differences in their posture as well. He was sure they were lying. Deception detection was fairly hard as it is - though when those being questioned were wearing masks over their faces - it became even more difficult. Thus their bodies showed more than their faces. Shrugs of shoulders would subconsciously denote that they weren’t completely behind what they were saying. Scratching of the arm would indicate that they were manipulating someone. Probably Linke into giving them the sculpture. Wiggling or wringing of fingers indicated nervousness, at being caught in the lie. He had anticipated that one of them may be the arsonist, but there were too many displaying those signs. And, when he pressed into them more, giving them more questions, it became obvious that they weren’t the arsonists. Now he was down to the last seven. A Ta-Matoran sat in front of him now, displaying no signs of nervousness or anything that could make him someone not to believe. “Well? What information do you have?” Linke questioned. “I saw someone fleeing from the scene of one of the fires.” the Matoran replied. Linke studied him closely. ''Nothing. This is the truth, or this guy is exceptionally good at keeping his body from revealing any information.'' “Who was it? Did you see any details?” Linke asked, leaning across the table. “Yes. I saw details,” the Matoran answered. “A Matoran. But slightly thinner than most, and a little shorter too. By the flickering of the fire I saw light blue armor.” “De-Matoran,” Linke muttered. He nodded, “Okay. Anything else?” “No. That’s it.” “Then you can go.” Linke said, “I’ll remember your information. Maybe that sculpture will be yours’.” The Matoran nodded and ran out so as not to keep Linke waiting for the next to come in. After two more useless Matoran, a Ga-Matoran walked in. She sat down and started to tell him about the figure she saw. After the last few, with only two pieces of good information, Linke walked out. There were only two options for the sculpture, and both of them were heading to the waiting room to wait for him. Linke walked out and went towards Derr. He leaned over Derr’s desk, “I’ve got some good leads.” “You do? Great! Do you know who it was, exactly?” the Onu-Matoran detective asked. “No. But I’ve got enough information. De-Matoran are rare on the island, right? I need a list of them. You’ve got that, correct?” “Yeah,” Derr ran over to a desk and pulled a tablet out. He handed it to Linke, “Here.” Linke looked it over. “Four on the island at the moment. The others were passing through,” Linke muttered. He looked at one name in particular. “I think I’ve got this case solved.” “From one of those four?” Derr questioned. “He could be off the island by now!” “He’s not,” he said as he pointed to a name, “because only one fits the criteria.” Linke, flanked by a group of four police officers, walked to a residential house. Linke smashed his fist on the door three times as a loud knock, “Come out! I know you’re in there! This is the Doppel Nui Guard!” Nothing. “Break it down,” Linke said, stepping back. The group of police took up a battering ram, and smashed it into the door. It fell with ease, revealing the home to them. The officers rushed in, daggers drawn, looking around. “All clear,” one reported to Linke. He walked in and looked around, “One of you stay here.” He pointed to a side room, “One of you check it, and any conjoining areas.” He looked to the other, longer hall, “You other two, with me.” They spread out as ordered. The two following Linke flanked him instead of going before him. He had proven his combat capabilities multiple times, and could defend himself. The police mainly wanted to see him fight, if it came down to it. It was doubtful in this situation, however. Sitting in the farthest room back, in a large, ornate chair, sat a Turaga of Sonics. Thin, just as the Ta-Matoran had seen. He hadn’t thought it was a Turaga. The Matoran probably doubted there were Turaga on the island. “You’re under arrest for several cases of arson across the island,” Linke told him. He put his arm forward, pointing at the suspect, “Arrest him.”

Day Eleven, Part 2
As the four police officers escorted the Turaga into the interrogation room, Linke ran towards Derr and stood on the other side of his desk. “I got him,” Linke reported. “No problems. He came willingly. One of the officers is about to interrogate him to see if we can get his motives out of him.” “Excellent work,” Derr said hastily. He slid the tablets across the desk, “I have a lead to follow up on. Read these over and see what conclusions you can draw.” Linke nodded and drew a chair to the desk. He started to read the reports, hoping to find anything he could that could help Derr. But hopefully, Derr hadn’t missed anything. He had hoped that Derr could find Gahla without his help. Derr pounded his fist on a door, “Doppel Nui Guard! Open up!” He shouted. His dagger was in his right hand, point down. He was knocking with his left. After a few moments, the door opened. Derr stepped out from the side of the door, and looked in. The Tai-Matoran took a swing at him with a mallet. He ducked and came up with the dagger towards the would-be assailant’s throat. The Matoran of Plasma dodged back. He kicked the door closed and ran farther back into his home. Derr broke the door off of its’ hinges and followed him quickly. He looked around quickly as he ran; just to be sure he wouldn’t have anyone surprising him. The home was that of a modest Matoran. Not too pompous, but enough to sustain his life. He was an artist, it looked like. But, as Derr broke into the next room by kicking the door down, he found he was wrong. The art was all forged. They were fakes, mainly fakes of Recht’s work. “A forger,” Derr said, walking closer. The Matoran only held the mallet as a weapon, and was backed into a corner. “Haven’t seen someone in that profession in a while.” “Not since you?” the Matoran questioned. Derr was shocked for a moment. That was a moment too long, and the weapon smashed into Derr’s chest, sending him to the ground. He looked up, dazed from the blow. The Matoran grabbed him by the throat, and started to squeeze, “Derr, goodnight.” And Derr’s world went black. “Is this it?” Linke muttered, reading the address that an officer had given him. This was the residence of the suspect that Derr was after. He had drawn his own conclusions, but was currently checking on Derr’s location. Checking up to see if Derr’s information was right, and, if he needed help. Or if this was wrong, he would be able to cross some information off. He pounded on the door. “Is anyone there?” he called; instead of saying it was the Doppel Nui Police. That may have been a terrible idea, so he went for something ambiguous instead. The door opened, revealing a Tai-Matoran. “Can I help you?” he asked. “My name is Linke,” Linke said. “I’m a reporter, and I was told that you were someone of interest to talk to. You see, our publication is new, and we’re not very good yet. So, we don’t really know who to talk to. We’re fairly new to the island, the four of us,” he lied, hoping to get this Matoran to let him in. “Yeah...sure. Come in,” the Matoran offered. “I don’t know what type of article I can help you with, however.” Linke looked around as he entered. He saw the various paintings, sculptures, statues, jewelry. He forged pretty much anything produced on the island. Linke was sure they were forgeries since he saw so many of Recht’s pieces. Linke made it a habit of learning who bought each piece, just in case something happened. He was glad he did, since he started working with the police. “How about we start with these incredible pieces of work?” Linke offered. “These sure are amazing.” He crouched down by a statue of a Toa of Fire who wore silver armor and carried a spear and a shield. A Toa Hagah. “If you really want to,” the Matoran offered modestly. He’s good, Linke thought. I’m sure this guy’s hiding something. He stood up and took a seat across from the other Matoran. He drew a slab of stone out and took a chisel, “Okay, where do you want to start? It’s up to you.” he told the Matoran. The Matoran pointed to a painting on the wall at their side, “That. Let’s start with that piece. I painted it about three months ago. It’s supposed to be a calming piece.” The picture was calming to look at. It was of a beach with the setting sun, with birds flying around, picking berries in their beaks. It also showed a Kanohi and a sword lying in the sand. “I call it ‘After the Battle’,” the Matoran said. “After the Battle” was quite the famous piece. This Matoran sure had guts if he was going to pass that off as his own. Everybody knew about that picture, and most wanted it. However, it was a one-of-a-kind, and not for sale. “Nice name,” Linke said. “And it is a beautiful piece. How much is it?” he offered, trying to bait the Matoran in. “I think it’s something we’d love to have while we’re writing at the office.” “Not for sale,” the Matoran said. Oh, he is good. Linke though as his trap failed. If he would have offered, Linke would have sprung the trap, and got him on accounts of forgery right there, and got a search of the vicinity done within minutes. But the game continued, forcing Linke to continue thinking of new things to say. “Oh, that’s too bad.” Linke said. He rose and looked at the statue of the Toa Hagah, “How about that? It’s nice. Not as nice as ‘After the Battle’, but nice.” “Oh, that?” the Matoran asked, leaning over and picking it up. “This is for sale for... well, trade for, for an original Recht.” “That’s expensive,” Linke said, giving a low whistle, “Is it really worth that much?” Anyone who was an artist, or who worked with an artist would know that a piece like that wouldn’t be worth anywhere in that vicinity. It would be worth a handful of widgets at best. “Oh, of course!” he boasted. “After all, this is a carving of the famous Toa Hagah, Toa Iruini.” Trapped. Linke held his hand out, “May I see it again?” The Matoran nodded, passing it to Linke. He took a long, close look at it, and lunged forward, taking the chair over, and smashing the statue into the ground. As they struggled, Linke found a sharp shard, and held it to the Matoran’s throat. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “Did I tell you who my associates were?” Linke muttered, “Gahla, Derr...” The fear in the Matoran’s eyes proved to Linke that he had the Matoran. “Who are you?” he hissed. Linke chuckled, “I told you already. But my real name is Recht.” Linke was thrown off of him. As the Matoran leapt back to his feet, Linke leapt for him, grabbing a leg and pulling it out from under him. “Next time...” Linke panted. “Know your forgeries better. You’re under arrest for forgery and suspected of abduction and murder.” Claps sounded from the next room. Linke looked up, seeing two Matoran walking out. “Very good.” The lead Matoran - a Fe-Matoran - said sarcastically, “You found our little forgery ring.”  He snapped his fingers. His Onu-Matoran associate drew a curved sword and walked forward. “You’re not getting out alive.” the Onu-Matoran said gruffly. Linke backed away, only carrying the shard of stone that was a makeshift dagger. He didn’t particularly like his odds at the moment. “Who are you people?” Linke demanded. The Fe-Matoran gestured to himself, “My name is Yutrek.” He gestured to the Onu- and Tai-Matoran, “Kiren; Ventre.” Linke saw Ventre taking a sword from where Kiren had taken one. Yutrek remained unarmed. “And just who are you? A ring of forgers?” Linke questioned. “Forgers,” Yutrek said. “Murderers, if we need to be.” “Did you kill those two detectives?” Linke demanded. “They’re alive,” Yutrek confirmed. He was clearly the mastermind. Linke would have to deal with him to get any answers. “Why are they alive?” Linke questioned, “Why are you keeping them alive? As bait of some sort?” “Because Derr has potential to join us again,” Yutrek said. “What?” Linke hissed. “Recht. Do you think that each member of the police force has a clean background? No. Derr was one of us. He abandoned us to join the police. Had we known, we’d have killed him first.” “You mean he left your group to live an honest life, and you didn’t know?” Linke questioned. “Correct,” Yutrek replied. “Had we known he’d join the police, we’d have killed him on the spot.” “But how long ago was that?” Linke questioned. “And he’s just going after your ring now?” “If he started to target us with information from his own head alone, he’d have been suspected, and ultimately arrested. But now, since Ventre got careless, he could target that new information. And he had his partner do it, to keep suspicion away from himself, in case he mixed up information they knew with information in his head. He’s smart, but not smart enough to get away from us without paying for it.” Linke ran forward. He rolled under Kiren’s swing, and swept his leg out, bringing him down. Before Ventre could act, Linke had Kiren by the throat, his weapon pressing against the hostage’s neck. “Unless you want Kiren to die, you take me to the detectives,” Linke threatened. “You think we’d buy that?” Yutrek questioned. He chuckled, “Kill him if you wish. None of us will care. We won’t offer one of our lives in exchange for two of the police.” Ventre leapt forward, running his sword through Kiren’s body. Linke leapt back before he would be impaled as well. As the sword tore out of the back of Kiren’s body, Linke’s armor was scratched by the tip. Linke threw his makeshift weapon forward, clipping Ventre’s shoulder armor. Ventre ran forward, lifting his sword high. He slammed it down, going at an angle to relieve Linke of his head. Linke hooked his foot on the leg of a chair, and threw it out. The chair crashed into Ventre, dropping him to the ground. Linke ran for Kiren’s corpse, and took the sword. He drew it towards his left shoulder, and swung it out wide, across his entire chest at Yutrek. Yutrek retreated back, fleeing from the now armed Linke. Linke span around, kicking Ventre in the chest, sending him crashing into the forgery of a large, heavy statue atop a thick pedestal. The force of Ventre striking the pedestal caused it to shake. He looked up, seeing the statue falling on him. As it struck, it crushed Ventre with its’ weight. That only left Yutrek. As Linke slowed to a stop, he saw both Gahla and Derr, unconscious. Yutrek now had a sword in hand, and the tip pressed to Gahla’s throat. “You take one more step, she dies,” he threatened. Linke dropped his weapon and put his hands up, “Okay, you win, Yutrek.” Linke saw something behind Yutrek. It was Derr, he was stirring. “Just don’t kill her,” Linke said. He gave a sharp laugh, “She dies now!” He tensed for the kill, for the fatal thrust. Derr leapt for his legs, taking them out. Yutrek collapsed on top of him, but the force kept Derr going from his initial leap. Linke ran over and pulled Gahla away. Derr got back up and leapt for Yutrek, kicking the sword away before the Fe-Matoran could grab it. Derr had Yutrek by the throat. He smashed Yutrek’s head into the ground once, but only with enough force to daze him. “You lose, Yutrek. Finally, I can bring you in,” Derr hissed. Sitting in the rounded area with Gahla and Derr felt uncomfortable for Linke. He looked to both of them, unsure of what to say with his new knowledge. Derr spoke, “Recht, what did you learn?” As if reading the Ta-Matoran’s mind. “You were a criminal prior to joining the police,” Linke said, exposing Derr to Gahla. “You were part of their forgery ring. You were a criminal who turned to becoming a cop, keeping your criminal past a secret.” “Wrong,” Gahla said. Derr nodded, “You’re wrong.” Linke rose, throwing his chair down, “You’re just covering yourself by using Gahla’s lack of knowledge as cover!” he shouted. Derr shook his head, “No. You really are wrong. Because Yutrek was wrong.” “What?” Linke questioned. “I’ll explain,” Gahla offered. Derr nodded, so she proceeded, “Derr was always a cop. But, when their forgery ring came, he took leave and joined. The only one who knew was the the Chief. And after so many years, he left the ring and resumed his original job as a police officer. When he compiled his report to the Chief, he was made a detective for his thorough work. But the forgery ring remained quiet for some time, until recently. That’s why I was looking into it.” “And when she failed to return, I was sent to deal with things,” Derr picked up. “I lost, though. I did leave you with the address, however. I wasn’t sure if it was right, but had a feeling. They never moved, it seems.” “So, you both knew about his past. But Yutrek and the others didn’t?” Linke asked. Derr nodded, “That’s exactly right.” Linke nodded and picked the chair up, “Alright then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Both detectives nodded. As Linke started to leave, Derr spoke. “Your first lesson on the case,” he said. “Don’t believe everything a suspect says.”

Day Sixteen, Part 1
Sitting in his topside office, Linke waited at his desk, his feet up atop the tabletop. Recht was late, and the buyer would be there any minute now. “Recht!” Linke called. Nothing. Linke stood up and took the key from under the desk. He walked towards the wall, but stopped as he heard the door open behind him. Without turning, he quickly said, “I’m very sorry, but your sculpture isn’t quite finished yet...” He turned, and instead of seeing the Ta-Matoran buyer, he saw Gahla. “Detective Gahla! What are you doing here?” he asked, quite surprised. She walked towards the desk, “Forget the customer for now. We have something to follow up on.” The wall slid open and Recht walked out. The Le-Matoran slid the sculpture of a Kanohi Hau onto the desk, and just as quickly as he had come, was leaving. “How was the job?” Linke asked him, trying to at least get some conversation. “Boring,” Recht replied. “I’ve never had to make something like this. The idea of it is just too boring.” “A Kanohi,” Gahla said flatly. “Is that it?” Recht nodded, and with a sigh, “See what I mean by ‘too boring’?” Gahla nodded, “I’m nothing close to an artist, and yeah, I see what you mean.” “Linke. Next time get me a more entertaining request,” Recht insisted before parting ways and disappearing into the underground section once more. Gahla turned to Linke, “Anyway, we’ve got to go. Like I said, we have something to follow up on.” Linke kept his pouch on the desk, and grabbed the sculpture. As they walked to the door, Linke thrust it into the hands of the Ta-Matoran walking into the shop. “Leave payment on my desk,” Linke said. “And next time, if you have such a boring request, find someone else to fill it. I don’t appreciate such boring requests.” The Ta-Matoran tried to find something to say, but Linke and Gahla were already departing down the street. Derr, a Po-Matoran detective, and two officers stood in the alley, next to a wagon drawn by a tamed Kane-Ra bull. As Gahla and Linke joined them, they moved aside, showing the two newcomers what they were examining. It was the corpse of a Ko-Matoran. Simple. “No unusual wounds to indicate the kill,” Derr reported. “Just our run of the mill murder. A stab to the back was the killing blow.” “Witnesses?” Gahla asked. The Po-Matoran spoke up, “I’m running that right now. I have police in the area checking. I’ll look into any leads we get.” Linke looked at him, waiting for a name. The Po-Matoran held out his hand, “Ah, you must be the famous Recht. My name is Cenrik.” “Cenrik is going to be helping us with this case,” Derr told them. “He was recently promoted to detective. This will be his... what? Second case?” Cenrik nodded, “Yeah. My second case.” “Well, let’s stop talking and get this corpse taken back to the precinct. We can get Karok to do an autopsy,” Derr said. He looked to the officers, “Let’s get the corpse into the wagon.” One of the officers opened the door while the other one and Derr picked up the corpse, and laid it onto the floorboards of the wagon. One officer, Linke, and Cenrik climbed in back with it. Derr, Gahla, and the other officer went up front to take the reins. As the Kane-Ra started to pull the wagon through the streets, the ride began to become smoother in back. “So,” Cenrik said, “what made you want to join the police as a... liaison?” “I prefer to think of myself as an outside perspective,” Linke replied. “A consultant to the police.” Cenrik nodded, “Okay. So, like I asked, what made you want to help them? I mean, don’t you have sculptures to make? I’m sure that pays a lot better.” Linke chuckled, “Yeah, the pay is great, but, I want to be able to help people. I appreciate art - that’s why I’m a sculptor - but I also need peace. I need peace to be able to work. People need peace in order to appreciate art, and to create it. That’s why I’m working with the police, so I can help maintain peace for the people of Doppel Nui.” Cenrik nodded, “Ah, I see. That’s very good of you, Recht. If only we had more people like you in our ranks. You know, you should retire from sculpting, and join us as a full time detective. From what I’ve heard from Derr, you’re very good. I heard you solved the arson case, and, solved a hostage situation for us. That, and you held your own against murderers, and a Ga-Matoran turned Dark Hunter. “So, all in all, you have great detective skills. You have great combat skills. You have the drive to do so much good. So, Recht, how about it? Will you join us as a full time detective, or, do you have that much need to do art, that you split your time?” “That’s a good offer, Cenrik. I appreciate it,” Linke replied. “But, do you have the authority to let me join immediately as a detective?” “You’ve more than proven yourself,” Cenrik reminded. “I’m sure the Chief will let you join immediately. Derr and Gahla can vouch for you, I’m certain.” The smooth ride suddenly jolted for a moment, then went back to smooth. Then it jolted once more. “What is that?” Cenrik muttered. He pounded on the wall and shouted to the three in charge of the Kane-Ra, “Hey! We really feel that back here!” The wagon jolted to a stop. Cenrik stood up to go to the front and figure out what was wrong, when the doors burst open. Three Matoran, each wrapped in long, black cloaks, which even covered their Kanohi, riding on Muaka tigers stood at the end of the wagon. Each carried a sword, and a belt full of pouches on their cloaks. Behind one of the Muaka was a wooden slab on wheels, like a makeshift wagon. The officer took up his spear and rushed out. Linke rose, but Cenrik threw his arm out, stopping Linke from moving. Cenrik snatched his dagger from his belt, and stood in front of Linke, as if to protect him. The spear went for the first rider, but the sword was faster. The spear was sliced in half, and then the officer took another sword to his chest, killing him. “Stay back!” Cenrik hissed to Linke. He tightened his grip on the dagger, and waited. “We won’t kill you,” the lead rider said. He dismounted and walked in, directing the tip of his sword towards Cenrik. “What do you want?” Cenrik demanded. “Just give us the corpse, and you’ll be safe.” the rider told him. Cenrik lunged forward, grabbing the Matoran’s wrist in his left hand. He drove the dagger towards the Matoran’s chest, but his opponent was faster. Cenrik took a knee to the face, taking him down. Linke ran forward and leapt up, slamming his foot into the rider, throwing him outside, next to his Muaka. Another rider leapt in and tackled Linke. The rider then ignored both of the Matoran and took the corpse. He slid it out and tossed it quickly onto the makeshift wagon. The other two riders were mounted already and ready to go. Linke struggled out and looked ahead, seeing two similar riders up front, keeping the others busy. When they saw that their comrades had the corpse, they drew three, small spheres apiece from their pouches. The five riders threw the spheres at the wagon, bringing up walls of smoke around the detectives, covering their escape. Cenrik got out and looked around alongside Linke. He called to the front, “I think we’ll have lost them. Let’s get to the precinct!” He and Linke climbed back in, and pulled the officer’s corpse inside before they sealed the doors. The wagon started back towards the precinct, now having another crime to investigate. “Why would anyone steal a corpse?” Derr muttered as he walked back and forth before a marking board, pondering it. It was their only clue, other than the corpse, which was on the other side. They weren’t sure if the crimes were interlinked, and didn’t want to associate them together until they could bridge that gap, or be sure that there was no bridge between them. “I think we should take a break for now,” Cenrik said. “Good,” Linke said. “I need to head to my shop for a bit. I’ll be back soon. I’ll see if I have any new perspectives on it.” “Let’s meet back in an hour,” Derr said. “Until then, everyone can take a break and relax.” Linke paced back and forth and looked through the sculpture to Recht. He was sculpting a twisting design, which made it easy for both Matoran to see each other. “I just don’t understand.” Linke said, “Why would these... bandits steal a corpse?” Recht looked up, “Did it occur to you that it wasn’t the corpse itself that they were interested in?” Linke stopped and looked at him, “What did you say?” “That maybe they weren’t interested in the corpse itself,” Recht reiterated. “Maybe they wanted something else.” “But what could they want?” Linke questioned. Recht shrugged, “I’m not a detective.” “You can still help me think,” Linke said. “I don’t have to,” Recht replied. “Why not?” “Because I have a pretty good bet already,” Recht answered. “Remember my Hau sculpture?” “What about it?” Linke asked. “I decided to add something to it,” Recht replied. “Something... special.” “Then why did you complain?” “Because it was still boring. I thought that addition could make it a bit more fun.” He shrugged, “I was wrong.” “What was the addition?” “I made it thicker than it should have been,” Recht said. “Because I needed the room. Just think about that one, Linke.” “I’ve got it,” Linke told the three detectives. “You think you have an idea why they took the corpse?” Derr asked. “Or, is it that you think you know why he was murdered?” “I don’t have any idea about the murder,” Linke admitted. “We have officers checking for witnesses for that,” Gahla put in. Linke nodded, “Right. But, I did some thinking. I think I know why they took the corpse.” “And that reason is?” Derr questioned. “They didn’t want it for the corpse. They didn’t want to cover the murder. No,” he shook his head. “They wanted something off of the body, not the body itself.” “We figured that already,” Gahla said. “I know, I know,” Linke said. “But you don’t get it. They don’t want something necessarily off of the body. They want something from inside the body.” “That’s preposterous,” Derr said. “What could lead you to think of that?” Gahla stood up and spoke to an officer who walked in. She took her seat again and looked at the others, “It sounds like Recht is right. They did want something from inside the corpse.” “How do you know?” Derr questioned. “An officer found the corpse. Cut open and gutted. They cleaned something out, but I don’t have the details. We have to go see Karok for those.” The morgue was cold around the three detectives, Linke, and the Fe-Matoran, Karok. The medical examiner leaned over the body and directed the four newcomers to the inside of the corpse. “If you’ll look here,” he directed to the lungs, “There are signs of bruising. They were shoved aside by someone.” He directed to the other muscle systems and organs, “And if you keep looking, you’ll see more signs of damage and movement.” “So, someone was moving the organs and muscles around?” Cenrik asked. “Why?” “To get something that was hidden inside,” Karok replied. “Or at least, that’s my guess.” “What could have been in his body?” Gahla questioned. “Do you have any idea?” “Whatever it was, it was small enough to swallow,” Karok said. He directed to the wounds on the chest from cuts, “These excess cuts show that they weren’t very good at this ‘autopsy’ of theirs. This final cut is really just luck, I’d guess. They never cut him open before to place something in him.” “So, he swallowed something, and then what?” Linke asked. “And how did it move so much through his system?” “We absorb energy into our bodies. We don’t need our throats to send food into our bodies for energy. So, if he swallowed something, then it was bound to move through his system. That tells me that he also had some trauma to shake the items up so much. It could very well have been from the shaking of the corpse during transport,” the Fe-Matoran told them. “Why did he swallow... whatever it was?” Linke asked. “I think I know,” Derr said. “What is it?” Gahla asked. “Could it be...?” Cenrik nodded, “I’m sure it’s him.” “Who? What are you talking about?” Linke questioned. “We’re searching for a man who goes by the name of ‘Ghost’,” Derr explained. “He’s one of the greatest criminal masterminds on Doppel Nui. We’ve been after him for years. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him.” Linke shook his head, “I’ve only been here a year, you know. So, what is this ‘Ghost’ guy wanted for?” Derr looked to Karok, “Tell him what the assumption is, since we presume the ‘Ghost’ is involved.” “We suspect this Matoran was used in the drug smuggling ring. We suspect he was smuggling Ethanum or Ambrosil onto the island,” Karok explained.

Day Sixteen, Part 2
“Just what is Ethanum and Ambrosil, exactly?” Linke questioned. “You haven’t heard of it before?” Cenrik asked him. Linke shook his head, “No.” “Well, that’s not a surprise,” Derr said. “Most frown upon its’ use and prohibit its’ use. Well, it’s a form of Liquid Protodermis that creates an intoxicating effect on whoever absorbs it. Ambrosil is just the most common form of it. The name comes from its’ amber color.” Linke nodded, “Okay, I get it. And Doppel Nui, I take it, has a ban on the stuff.” Derr nodded, “Right. Hence the ‘Ghost’ smuggling this stuff onto the island. From what I’ve heard, it’s very popular among struggling artists.” “I can imagine,” Linke replied. “If they fail, they have something to turn to so they can become calm. I’m sure they could also use it for ‘inspiration’ on their work.” Derr nodded, “From what we know, that’s the gist of the artists using it.” “Do we have any leads?” Linke asked any of them. “I mean, where this stuff is being distributed from? Is there a network of drug dealers on the streets or anything?” “No,” Derr told him. “No drug dealers would be foolish enough to be stationed on the streets. Police would take them immediately. We have enough law-abiding citizens to see to that.” “So, how is this done?” Linke questioned. “We don’t know,” Derr said. Cenrik stepped forward and interjected, “If I may... we do know.” “What?” Derr questioned, looking at the Po-Matoran with a suspicious feeling. “My first case involved it,” Cenrik replied, trying to quell Derr’s suspicions. “No. I personally don’t know anything, but my former mentor - he’s retired - does. That was his last case.” “Who taught you?” Derr questioned. “And why didn’t the entire department learn about this?” “Are you suspicious of me? My mentor?” Cenrik demanded. “Do you think we had something to do with this ring?” “You never told anyone, so I think something’s amiss,” Derr hissed. “Stop,” Gahla said, stepping between them. She looked to Derr, “You know better than to think one of our own is worthy of suspicion.” She looked to Cenrik, “And you should know to share your findings with the entire department.” “I was ordered not to,” Cenrik replied. “And so was my mentor.” “Who was your mentor?” Gahla asked. “Philleppe,” Cenrik replied. “Philleppe?” Linke questioned. “He was one of the best,” Karok said, leaning over. “He was the primary detective when this system was established a year ago. Under Epee’s rule, he was a high ranking officer in the secret police.” “I heard about that,” Linke said. “So, he worked a year, and then had to retire?” Karok nodded, “He is very old. No one would be surprised if he died within a year or two.” “I see,” Linke replied. “So, Philleppe led the investigation, found some new leads on the Ethanum drug smuggling ring, and then... you two were ordered not to speak of it?” he asked Cenrik. Cenrik nodded, “Exactly.” “By who?” Derr questioned. They heard someone’s footsteps, and all turned, seeing a Turaga of Fire walking into the morgue. “I ordered the silence.” “Chief Layef, why did you order silence on the case?” Derr questioned as the three detectives and Linke sat in the spacious office of the Chief. Layef sat at his desk, Derr on the other side and the other three on chairs against the walls. Sunlight flittered through the window onto the desk, making it easy to read anything laid before anyone at the desk. “The case is too important, that’s why, Senior Detective Derr,” Layef said. “If I told the entire department, then the case would be blown.” “Why?” Derr questioned, leaning over the desk. “Why would this case be ruined?” he demanded. He didn’t care that Layef was Chief, he wanted answers. “When I instructed Senior Detective Philleppe and Junior Detective Cenrik to keep their silence, it was because I stationed a man on the inside,” Layef said. “Now, if you do anything, you could blow it and get him killed!” “You put a man in the drug ring?” Derr questioned. “Of course,” Layef replied. “He’s investigating it all, and we’re going to bring it down soon.” “How soon is ‘soon’?” Linke questioned, rising and walking forward. “Recht, you’ll keep your seat,” Layef ordered. “No,” Linke replied defiantly. “This is important. You have one man on the inside, and, who knows how many dangerous individuals? Let me guess, he’s a detective.” “Of course,” Layef replied. “Then he’s as good as dead,” Linke replied. “Detectives don’t have the skills that police have. But a single officer - if you would send one in his place - would be outnumbered, and killed. You’re in playing a lose-lose game, Chief Layef.” “And I suppose you can do better?” he questioned Linke. “I can,” Linke replied. “Because unlike all of your police and detectives, I have real combat training.” “From who?” Layef demanded. “My teacher’s name is Tezka,” he replied. “You heard of him?” “No,” Layef told him. “Now unless this is relevant, sit down.” “It is. Send me in, and I can take care of all of it. I have a great track record with this department, after all,” Linke boasted. “And just what would you do?” Layef demanded. “I’d get in there, use my status as a master sculptor, and get the information we need. I’d leave, and we can storm the facility. I can easily fight my way out if anything goes wrong. So, how ‘bout it Chief? Will you send me?” “Recht!” Derr shouted, pushing him back. “This is too dangerous!” “No,” Layef said, directing his comment at Derr. “I like it. Recht, you’re in.” Linke pushed Derr aside and walked forward, “Thank you, Chief. I won’t let you down. Now, I’ll need the intelligence on the case thus far.” “Of course,” Layef replied, pulling a few slabs of stone out of his desk and sliding them across the top of it. Linke took them and looked them all over, reading each detail, and letting it sink in. “Tonight,” Linke said. “I’ll head in tonight.” “You don’t want more time?” Layef asked. Linke shook his head, “No. I’ve had enough time. I’ll bring this down, and get you the ‘Ghost’. You can quote me on that. I give you my personal guarantee that it’ll end that way.” “I trust you, Recht,” Layef said. “Good luck.” The dark blanket of night had fallen over Doppel Nui. Linke walked through the dark, cold, desolate streets alone, looking around for anything. No one moved. There were few lights on in the homes or businesses. Most were sleeping at this hour. But up ahead, there was a single light in a window. He walked up to it, and knocked twice in rapid succession. The light flickered twice, and Linke walked around to the side of the structure. It was a large art gallery, run by a Matoran by the name of Phasm, a Matoran of Spirits. He walked to the door, and knocked twice on it. The door slid open, and a Po-Matoran guard questioned him, “Name?” “Recht,” Linke answered. He took a pouch off his belt and handed it forward. The Matoran opened it, looking at the widgets inside. He nodded, “Entrance fee paid. Go on in.” Linke walked inside, and down the first flight of stairs, usually hidden under a few slabs of stone on the ground. As he descended, he could hear the Matoran, and see the lights all around. He stopped at the bottom and looked at another Po-Matoran. “First time?” the Matoran questioned. Linke nodded, “Yeah.” “Then you’ll have to pay a fee of five widgets,” he said, holding his hand out. Linke didn’t argue, and took his other pouch, opened it, and paid the widgets. “Go on,” he said, allowing Linke passage. Linke looked around at all the Matoran. There were a group purchasing the Ethanum at one end, at a bar, and another group standing around, talking. A group showing off weapons to each other, and a bulk of the crowd standing around or sitting at tables, playing a game. Linke walked to an open seat, and sat. He looked across the table at whom their intelligence had told them was a big name in this parlor. “So, the famous Recht,” the Le-Matoran said. “I never thought you would come here.” Linke shrugged, “I need some inspiration, and a challenge.” He said, looking at the Uuk-Koi board. There were only four tiles on it - two per side. It wasn’t a game to kill, but just one that would wound the mind, making people constantly able to play. “Well, shall we play?” he questioned. “How many games have you ever played, Recht?” “I won a game at a parlor on Stelt,” he lied. “And I got the name of this parlor. My first time here.” “Only one win?” the Le-Matoran questioned. “It’s enough to play here,” Linke said. “Right,” the Matoran nodded. “Well, shall we begin? Ten widgets to start with?” Linke slid his widgets onto the table, “Yeah, sounds good.” Both put their hands out into the standard position for a game. “I’ll begin,” the Le-Matoran said, flipping a tile towards Linke’s. Linke moved, landing atop it, and beginning the battle. Their minds clashed as energy erupted around the tiles. Linke knew he had a stronger mind due to the Duos Stone, but this opponent was a great player of the game, better than Unik had been. “You losing?” the Matoran laughed. “I’m just getting started,” Linke hissed, applying a hidden burst of power. The hidden energy came from his dual mind ability, and was something that allowed him sanity in that form, an aftershock of the stones. The enemy tile shattered, making the Le-Matoran slump down. He panted and put his arms out, “Good. My move.” He attacked Linke’s tile with his sole remaining piece, and began the assault. Linke struck back defensively, only keeping enough mental pressure on so as to keep a defense. He was countering each spike in power that his enemy gave off. Finally, as soon as his opponent rebounded, and hit a low point, Linke drove his pressure up. The spike “impaled” the opening of his opponent’s mental wall, and shattered it, shattering the stone. His opponent fell out of his seat and onto the ground. He panted as Linke rose. “Guess I won.” he said, taking his opponent’s widgets. “Good game.” He looked around, and walked to another open table, engaging a Tai-Matoran. As soon as he had defeated the second Matoran, he rose, taking the widgets as victor. He knew from the inside man that this was likely the murderer, the initial killer. After all, he was a hitman in this ring, and working for the “Ghost”. Linke walked towards the Matoran, and looked down. He walked off. He wanted to deal with him then and there, but couldn’t. He would be quickly killed if he tried. There was too much security, and too many allied Matoran. As Linke reached the stairs, and headed up, the Matoran pursued him. As soon as Linke was on the top floor, the Matoran grabbed him and slammed him against a wall. He put his dagger to the back of Linke’s neck, holding it tight. He had Linke’s arms trapped, keeping him from fighting back. The doorman was nowhere to be seen. “No one beats me,” the Tai-Matoran hissed. “Who are you? You suddenly came here for what reason? I saw you, you know. I saw you in the wagon. Are you working with the police?” “So, you were one of the riders?” Linke questioned calmly. He nodded, “Yeah, I was in charge of that mission. I’m one of the proprietors of this parlor as well.” “You are, are you?” Linke questioned. “What point are you trying to make of it?” he responded. Linke flexed his muscles, seeing if he could break free. He couldn’t. It would only make him die if he tried to escape. “That’s right, you’re trapped. Now, answer me,” the Matoran hissed. Linke kicked the hollow wall hard, replicating the sound of a door being kicked in. Luckily, he was next to a door which lead to a room with another exit. The Matoran looked to that door, expecting someone to be coming through it at any moment. The door at the side - where Linke had entered from - was burst in. Derr, Cenrik, Gahla, and a handful of officers rushed inside, all armed. More officers could be seen surrounding the building. Cenrik tackled the Tai-Matoran, pinning him down and shackling his arms. Linke stepped away and felt the back of his neck, feeling a slight cut. “You okay?” Gahla asked him. He nodded, “Yeah, just shocked, that’s all.” The Matoran of Plasma was hoisted up by Cenrik and Derr, and lead away, towards the door. The officers were coming into the doors on all sides, and rushing downstairs to subdue the inhabitants, and hopefully, crush the ring. “Wait,” Linke said, walking forward. He looked at Derr and Cenrik, “He told me he was one of the Matoran in charge, and he was at the attack, and he was the murderer, apparently. I think it’s safe to say we probably have our ‘Ghost’.” The Matoran laughed, “You think I could be the ‘Ghost’? That’s absurd! The ‘Ghost’ is a genius! Obviously, I’m not, since I didn’t kill you on the spot, Recht.” An officer rushed back up - a Matoran of Crystal - clad in white and blue armor. He wore robes like the detectives, but were black and adorned differently. “Lieutenant Quey, did you find anything?” Derr asked. Quey was the man in charge of the police ranks, an officer himself, and Lieutenant of the Doppel Nui Guard. He shook his head, “We rounded everyone up...but the ‘Ghost’ isn’t here.”

Day Seventeen
“I must congratulate you, Recht.” Layef said as Linke sat across the desk from him. He nodded, “Thank you Si-” “But you failed to bring us the ‘Ghost’,” Layef hissed. “You gave your word that you would catch him!” “I tried!” “That’s one thing you should learn. Don’t promise what you can’t control,” he told Linke. “Learn that.” “So you’re not angry with me?” Linke asked. “You brought down that drug ring, that parlor, so no. I’m pleased with your work, Recht. But now, we have no leads on the ‘Ghost’. But that’s good. The next instances of any drug smuggling are sure to lead us to him, since he’ll have to start probably from scratch.” “I’m glad I could be of help,” Linke said. “Now, Cenrik spoke of making you a true detective. What do you say to that, Recht? Would you like to join us for real?” Linke shook his head, “I’m sorry, Chief, but no. I have my own work to do.” “Perfectly understandable, Recht,” Layef replied. “Well, you can take all the time you want, now.” “Why?” Linke questioned. “With the promotion of Cenrik, I don’t think we need you as often. You can take a break if you want to,” Layef offered. “You just don’t want me running this, do you?” he questioned. “That’s not it,” Layef replied. “I’m just offering...” “I know,” Linke replied. “But there’s no way I’ll take a break from this.” “Okay, Recht,” Layef said. “Have a good day.” “You too,” Linke replied as he departed Layef’s office. Linke sat at the desk in the shop, resting and slumped over it. He was bored. He didn’t know where Recht was, there were no cases. Nothing to review. The only thing he could think of to possibly do was search for leads on the “Ghost”, but that wouldn’t be of use at this point. There were bound to be few to any leads. He looked up when he heard the door open. He saw the light green-armored Recht walking in, and walking towards him. “Recht, where were you?” Linke asked. “I use your name when I go out,” he assured Linke first. He stood beside the desk, “I was just going out. I don’t get out enough, after all.” “I guess that’s true enough,” Linke replied. “Where did you go?” “Just for a walk,” Recht replied. “Linke, are you worried about me?” he questioned with a small laugh. “I haven’t heard you laugh before,” Linke said, rising. He looked his partner in the eyes, “I just worry about you...” “The situation is over,” Recht reminded. “We dealt with it at the time.” “I know,” Linke replied. “But it doesn’t feel like we ever finished it.” “I know why you feel that way,” Recht replied. “But trust me, it’s over. We’d have caught wind of it if it wasn’t.” “I guess you’re right, Recht,” Linke said. “So, you don’t have a case or anything?” Recht asked, walking around the back of the desk, and removing the key from under it. He walked towards the wall and began the process of opening the stairway. “No,” Linke replied. “After that job last night, we’ve got nothing.” Linke looked out a window. His angle allowed him to see the road leading towards the door. He saw both Cenrik and the Police Lieutenant Quey approaching. “Hurry!” Linke hissed back. Recht disappeared behind the wall, onto the stairs. The wall sealed by the time the two members of the Guard reached the door. Linke walked towards the door, intending to meet them halfway. The two walked in, with Cenrik following behind Quey. “Can I do something for the two of you?” Linke questioned. “Recht, we need to talk,” Quey said with a strict voice. “We need to talk, now.” “What’s this about?” Linke inquired. Cenrik stepped forward, “Recht, don’t pay him any heed. He’s...” “Silence!” Quey snapped at Cenrik. “I outrank you. You’ll hold your tongue upon my orders.” “Understood,” Cenrik muttered. Quey looked back to Linke. “Now, Recht, about last night. We need a few things,” he told the Ta-Matoran. “And that would be?” Linke questioned. “You stole widgets,” Quey said. “Your so called ‘winnings’ were illegal. We need them. We’ll reimburse you for the widgets that you had to pay as soon as you got down the stairs, but remember, the original widgets were ours. Out of your ‘winnings’, you can keep whatever you lost. The rest is ours.” Linke nodded. “Fine. What else?” he questioned. “We need you to divulge information on the Uuk-Koi games,” Quey replied. “Reports indicate that you won two games in quick succession. And when we did our interrogations, we were told that you were using the Ambrosil. We need your information on this. We’ll hold you accountable to tell the truth on your work in law enforcement, and whatever you say, we’ll hold in regard higher than that of the interrogating results.” “I didn’t use any of the drugs,” Linke assured. “I was too busy playing Uuk-Koi to have any chances to use.” “But how did you get so good?” Quey questioned. “We know you played once, to subdue Ko-Matoran Unik. But you lost that game, nearly won. You came out without any mental repercussions, however. Explain that.” Linke shrugged, “I’m just a natural, I guess.” “Or you’re used to the mental strain,” Quey interjected. “Now, tell the truth. Do you play the game on a regular basis through illegal channels?” “No. I’ve only played it three times in my life. All in police service,” Linke answered. “Now, after I get you the widgets, is there anything else you need?” “No. That’s it,” Quey replied. He looked to Cenrik, “I’ll be departing. Bring the widgets back with you.” Cenrik saluted bitterly, and stepped aside for Quey as he departed. As soon as he was out, Linke looked to Cenrik, “What’s wrong with him?” “He’s just strict,” Cenrik replied. “He didn’t become Lieutenant without being strict. He’s also very thorough, but plays by the rules, at least.” He grinned, “He’s also great fun at parties.” Linke walked behind the desk and pulled out a pouch. He slid it across the table, “Here’s the winnings from last night.” Cenrik took it. “You know, Quey isn’t just how I explained him,” he told Linke. “He’s also corrupt, to an extent.” “How so?” Linke questioned. “These winnings. He was never formally ordered to retrieve them. I think he either wants them for his own wealth, or...” “Or what?” “Or he’s a great guy at heart, and is going to use them for the department,” Cenrik replied. He shrugged, “I prefer to think the latter, but who knows what that guy thinks.” “I’d like to think that too,” Linke said, sitting down. He noticed that Cenrik wasn’t leaving. “So, is there something I can do for you?” he questioned. Cenrik was looking around, “I’ve just never been here. I’ve heard about this place a lot, but I’ve never come here. Great place you’ve got, Recht.” “Thanks.” Linke replied. “So, anything else?” He looked over various sculptors that Recht had made that weren’t sold. Just for browsing on the rare occasions that people came to window shop, instead of coming with a request. He took hold of a small statue and lifted it up. “What’s this?” Cenrik questioned, turning it over in his hands, “What’s this line down the center of the Toa?” “That’s the Toa of Doppel Nui,” Linke said. “Don’t you know of him?” Cenrik looked to Linke. Confusion mixed with outrage. “You mean you actually sculpt that fugitive?” he said as he set it down and stalked towards the desk. “You mean to tell me that you actually sculpt him? He’s a criminal!” “It was before I joined as a consultant,” Linke answered, trying to deflect. “No law abiding artist would do any art for him!” Cenrik shouted. “Why did you?” Linke sighed and rose to his feet, “I’m enthralled by him. He’s an interesting figure, when you think about it.” He walked towards the shelf, taking the statue up in his hands. He turned it over, “I mean, just think about it. He’s hunted by the police, yet fights their enemies. He protects everyone. You can’t tell me that you don’t respect that.” “I do respect his work, but he should leave,” Cenrik said. “I would hate to see the autopsy of that body of his.” “You mean the dual elements?” Linke questioned. “But aren’t you also enthralled by that point of him?” “I’d rather see the good he can do be done elsewhere. I’d rather him live there than die here. Do justice rather than do it, and be hated by it at the same time.” “So, you respect the Toa, just not on Doppel Nui?” Linke questioned. “That’s exactly it,” Cenrik replied. He walked towards the door, “I think I’ll take my leave now. See you at the next case, Recht.” “So, you’re staying on with us for good, right?” Linke asked. Cenrik nodded, “Yeah. You, Gahla, Derr, you’re all great. I eagerly await more cases.” “But what will you do if you get promoted?” Linke asked. “We can have multiple Senior Detectives working cases, Recht,” Cenrik said. “Even if Gahla or I become Senior Detectives, we can still all work together.” “I doubt that, Cenrik,” Linke replied. “I don’t think they’ll want three - or even two - detectives of that skill level all working together.” Cenrik shrugged, “I know one thing for certain. While I can work with you guys, I’ll always turn down the promotions then.” “Glad to hear it, Cenrik. I’m really liking you.” “I’m liking you too, Recht. As I said, I await our next case together.” He stepped outside, strapping the pack of widgets to his belt. He looked down the street, seeing something rapidly approaching. “Dark Hunter!” he shouted, rushing out with his dagger. Linke threw the statue back into the shelf and rushed for the door to Recht. He had his Duos Stone stashed under his desk, so he had to stop for a moment to retrieve it, before rushing downstairs. Cenrik ran after the blur, but obviously couldn’t keep up. He slowed to a stop when he saw the Toa leaping building to building, propelling himself with his Air elemental powers. The Toa spun around in the air, performing an axe kick from above. A blade of wind erupted from his foot, smashing into the ground in front of the Dark Hunter. The blur slowed, but didn’t stop. The Toa landed just behind, but couldn’t keep up, or do anything to stop it. He closed his eyes, and then rubbed them with his thumb and pointer finger on his right hand. “How do we stop that guy?” Recht muttered. “Wish I knew,” Linke replied. “What is it?” Recht asked. “You’re not saying something.” “It’s nothing... just thinking about a case,” Linke replied. “Okay,” Recht answered. He leapt up, using the elemental powers of his side of the body, “Let’s continue our pursuit for a time.” “Yeah,” Linke replied, trying to think as they ran forward. He considered [[Fire|fire, but wasn’t sure what to aim at. After running for about ten minutes, building to building, pursuing the Dark Hunter, the Toa dropped to the streets below. “Where did he get off to?” both muttered at once. They both looked ahead, seeing a squad of police moving in. Leading them was Quey, wielding a scimitar strapped to his wrist with a band. Behind them were more police.  Among the overall ranks were Derr, Gahla, Cenrik, and other detectives. “We have you trapped, Toa!” Quey shouted. “Surrender, and we’ll only banish you!” “No,” Linke said. “I won’t surrender!” Recht was looking around the group in front of them.  He remained focused on Quey. “Who’s that?” he whispered. “Lieutenant of the police,”  Linke whispered. “Interesting,” Recht whispered back. “If you’re done talking to yourself, we need an answer!” Cenrik shouted, directing his dagger at them. “Answer Lieutenant Quey!” Both spoke at once. “I am a hero to this island!  I protect it from the Dark Hunters!  From any other threats that can’t be handled through conventional methods.”  Recht threw his arm forward, curling his fingers in one by one rapidly and drawing his arm back to his body, bending it and putting it to Linke’s side of their head. “I am the only Toa who will remain on this island!  I am the only one dedicated to the art and beauty of this place!  If you run me out, you will be losing a hero, and a patron!” “That means nothing!” Quey shouted. Apparently, Quey wasn’t interested in the arts, but rather, his job alone. Elemental energy flowed into both of the Toa’s hands.  He slammed them together, scattering a wall of fire around his body.  He triggered his powers over the air, and propelled himself to a rooftop. He threw his right arm down, “You claim to be justice, yet you try to quell the stronger justice of this island?  That’s blasphemy!” “After him!” Quey shouted, rushing alongside a squad that he led through the streets. The Toa was faster, easily outmaneuvering them with his air powers. After a few minutes, and being sure that they had escaped, the Toa dropped down into the streets.  He closed his eyes, and threw his arms out. The axis of energy spread out, splitting them back apart.  Both panted, and moved on back towards the shop. Both had taken away that the police couldn’t be reasoned with over justice. Recht, however, had taken away something far more, the existence of Quey.

Day Eighteen
“We still have one target of dire importance,” Derr said, slapping a tablet down on a table in the middle of the room. He looked up at Gahla, Cenrik, and Linke. “What who’s this target?” Cenrik asked. “The ‘Ghost’?” “He has yet to resurface, as far as we know,” Derr replied, shaking his head. “No, we have a different target.” “You said it was dire,” Linke told him, “Is it a Dark Hunter? The Toa?” “A Dark Hunter,” Derr confirmed. “The Toa claims to be justice, but he hasn’t done anything to stop this Dark Hunter. We haven’t been able to do anything, either.” “What is this Dark Hunter?” Cenrik asked. “That speed thing,” Derr replied. “That thing that’s been moving faster than any of us could catch. We don’t even know what it looks like, but we can be sure it’s a Dark Hunter.” “And how do you plan on capturing it?” Gahla asked. “I don’t know yet,” Derr answered. “But we’ll find a way.” “Why now, all of a sudden?” Linke asked. “Why are you going after it now?” “Because in two days we have something important happening,” Derr replied. “You should know about it, Recht.” Linke racked his brain, trying to think. He just shook his head, “Sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” “The opening of the new city hall,” Derr answered. “I heard you received summons to sculpt a masterpiece for the entrance.” Linke nodded slowly. “Right... it slipped my mind. I really have to start work on it,” he muttered, trying to sound absent minded, but still focused on doing it, attempting to keep his rouse up. “You’d better get on it. The marble quarry of Angelus Nui doesn’t send to here that often, and very less often is it blessed by the four Seraphim,” Derr said. “Now, the case. We need to neutralize that Dark Hunter before the opening. We believe that his primary mission is to destroy the hall when it opens, and possibly assassinate the mayor.” “So, we need to stop him, but we have no ideas on how to,” Linke said. “Is that right?” “It is,” Derr answered. “Now, we need to think.” “We could try to create some adhesive,” Cenrik offered. “Something to literally stop him in his tracks.” “I don’t think that would work too well,” Linke answered. “He could be fast enough that it wouldn’t even stop him.” “Speed would rip him free,” Gahla confirmed. “I’m sure of it.” “Then we need another option,” Derr said. “Anyone?” “Lay down spikes,” Cenrik again offered. “I don’t think so,” Gahla said. “Too easy to see coming, and very dangerous for the citizens. We have to be sure they’ll be safe,” she reminded. “We could call on the Toa,” Gahla offered. “No!” Cenrik snapped. “Never!” “Why?” Gahla demanded. “Why not call on a Toa to help? We’re obviously not coming up with anything!” “The Toa is a criminal,” Cenrik hissed. “I will never work with him. I will never call him a partner in any capacity. I would rather take my own life than work with the Toa on such a case!” Linke felt his heart sinking by Cenrik’s words. Cenrik was his friend, but he knew how Cenrik felt about the Toa. He had told him about it a day before. But in such a situation, why wouldn’t Cenrik want that sort of help? What is his vendetta against the Toa? Linke wondered. ''Is it all Toa in general? Just this one? For something we did? Or just because we’re breaking the law of Doppel Nui? Cenrik had said he’d rather have the Toa live on, on another island, however, and continue to do good. Rather that than die on Doppel Nui for breaking the law.'' Cenrik’s feelings towards the Toa were hard for Linke to dissect, and that truly annoyed him. It didn’t make him mad. He knew that Cenrik would be duty bound as a detective to want the Toa gone. But with Linke making up one half of the Toa, it really got to him. But he knew the feeling. He knew that Cenrik felt betrayal by someone serving the law by breaking the law. And because of that, Linke knew that the feelings probably weren’t personal, so he didn’t let it get to him as much. “I like the idea,” Linke spoke up. “I think we should call on the Toa for help.” “What?” Cenrik shouted, turning to Linke. “How could you? Recht! I know you sculpted him, but how could you want to work with him? What’s gotten into you? Have you lost it?” “I know he could help!” Linke snapped. “We can’t worry about the law in this situation. I think we need his help to stop this Dark Hunter.” “But he’s tried, and failed,” Derr said. “We’ve seen him try. He can’t stop the Dark Hunter.” “He loves this island. I’m sure of that. Why else would he stay here when he knows he’s hated? He must be a lover of the arts,” Linke said. “He...” “He did say that,” Cenrik muttered, interrupting Linke. “Sorry, go on.” “He can do it. I’m sure of it! Just please, let’s let him try and give him a little time. The Toa hasn’t let us down in the past when something too dangerous has arrived. I’m sure he can stop this Dark Hunter in time! Please!” Linke begged. “Give him a chance!” Derr looked to the others, “Anyone?” Gahla nodded, “Of course I think we should. I brought it up first. I think we should get his help.” Derr nodded, “And Cenrik?” “No,” Cenrik said. “I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I don’t want him working this case.” “Two ‘yeses’ and one ‘no’,” Derr said. “I’m undecided as of yet. We’re going to take this question to Chief Layef.” The group of Matoran started moving out of the room, heading towards the Chief’s office. As they entered, Derr leading them, the Turaga of Fire looked up from what he was working on. He glared at the group. “What are you four doing here?” he questioned. “Just walking right in? Do you have no manners?” “We have something important to ask you,” Derr said. “Please, forgive our interruption. But it is very important.” “What is it?” Layef questioned. “It had better be worth my time.” “It is,” Derr assured him. “We’re working the current speed case.” “Speed case? Is that what you’re calling it now?” Layef questioned. “Okay, go on then.” “What do you call it?” Linke questioned, “Isn’t ‘speed case’ good enough for this one?” “I prefer an actual name,” Layef questioned. “One I can classify it by. Like a number,” Layef muttered. “But, go on.” “Anyway, we can’t come up with any way to stop the Dark Hunter,” Derr said. “And now... well, Gahla gave us an idea. We could ask the Toa for help, ask him if he’ll stop the Dark Hunter for us.” “He’s tried and failed,” Layef reminded. “We’re sure he can do it,” Gahla insisted. “We have faith in his abilities to protect this island.” “He said he was a patron of the arts,” Cenrik muttered. “They seem to think he can help us out...” “You don’t want him,” Layef analyzed from Cenrik’s words. “I understand your sentiments, but in this situation, we do need help. If we can’t get any options from our own ranks, we need the Toa’s powers.” “We’re at two ‘yes’ votes, one ‘no’, and I’m ‘undecided’,” Derr reported. “Then go with the majority,” Layef said. “One’s Recht,” Derr said. “So?” Layef questioned. “We’re not sure if he counts,” Cenrik said. He looked to Linke, “I like you. I’m not being mean... but you’re a consultant. Do you really get a vote?” “I say he does,” Layef said. “He’s proven himself worthy enough.” “Then majority rules,” Derr said. “Let’s find the Toa and get him to help us.” He walked towards the door, “Anyone know where to start?” “We’ll split up and search,” Gahla suggested. “I like that,” Derr replied. “Take areas to search,” he said. “North.” “South,” Gahla said. “West,” Linke said. “Leave’s ‘east’ to Cenrik,” Derr said, looking to the Po-Matoran. “No,” Cenrik said, stopping. “I won’t.” “What do you mean? You want a different area?” Derr questioned. “No. I’m not getting involved in this. I don’t believe in the Toa is someone we should be helping, or asking for help from. I’m out of this case, Derr.” Derr glared into his eyes, “I’m your Senior Detective. You’ll take my orders.” “No,” Cenrik said. “Gahla’s your protégé, not me. I’m just working your cases with you now. You don’t have that power over me.” With that, he turned and walked the other way, heading away from the door back into the depth of the station. “Leave him,” Gahla said. “I’ll take east as well,” Linke offered. “Fine,” Derr growled. “Let’s get moving.” The three Matoran set out, splitting up as they left the station. The blue blur of the Dark Hunter was once more racing through the streets of Doppel Nui. The Toa leapt roof to roof after him, using his default form, although wearing a belt with a pouch with their Stone powers inside. He slid to a stop and threw his left arm forward. A fireball erupted forward, creating a wall of fire in front of the Dark Hunter. The Dark Hunter didn’t stop, however, and went through the flames. He wasn’t ablaze, unfortunately. It didn’t do anything. “Recht,” Linke said. Recht threw his arm forward. “I’ll make a vacuum. That’ll hold him,” Recht said, unleashing his powers over the wind. He started to create a sphere around the Dark Hunter as the Toa ran once again. The sphere wasn’t going to hold up if they got out of range. The vacuum would need to be in that sphere, keeping it isolated. It obviously wasn’t working. The Dark Hunter knew what was happening, and instead of taking turns to allow the Toa to catch up a bit, to stay within reasonable range, kept running forward, out of sight. “We’ll use my powers to catch up, then try Stone,” Recht said, propelling them forward with a burst of wind from under his foot. The Toa flew through the air, landing on a rooftop just behind the Dark Hunter. In the instant they landed, Recht shot his hand into the pouch, producing the artificial stone. He held it to his chest and it faded into his body. Another stone came out in its’ place, which was promptly placed in the bag. The Toa was now brown on the right and red on the left. Recht threw his arm out, creating a stone wall in front of the Dark Hunter. The Dark Hunter passed through it like a ghost. Nothing happened. “He vibrated his molecules. That has to be it!” Linke shouted. “I don’t know what we can do,” Recht muttered. “If he vibrates himself with that speed, we can’t trap him.” “We can,” Linke said, taking control and rushing to the side, ignoring the Dark Hunter. He leapt off of the building and threw his arm out. “What are you doing?” Recht shouted. Then he saw Gahla rushing towards them, a pouch in hand. She threw it forward, “Linke!” He snatched it out of the air and nodded his thanks. He took control again and raced forward, up the street. He could see the blur coming at them. “Linke, what is that?” Recht shouted. “Tell me!” Linke pulled the object out of the bag. It was another artificial stone. “What is that?” Recht shouted. He slid to a stop. “You’re not the only one who can make one,” Linke said, pressing it to his chest. He shone for a moment as the stones swapped places. He placed the original half of the Duos Stone into the bag and looked at his hand now that his change was complete, and new, raw power surged through him. White armor. He was now able to use the powers of Ice. Stone and Ice were now flowing through the Toa. “If he vibrates himself through a stone barrier from his speed, then we remove that speed,” Linke said, throwing his arm forward. He twisted his wrist, activating his powers for the first time. The power felt different than ever before. It felt unstable. He was using twice as much as he should have had to, but that didn’t matter. Not yet. The blur stopped, now frozen in a slab of ice. Only a chunk of his upperbody and his head were free of the ice, revealing his sleek, humanoid, yet reptilian form to the Toa and Gahla. No mask nor helmet, just a blue, scaled armored face and a lashing tail, which was now frozen, as well as what looked like wheels protruding from the bottoms of his feet, which were what was allowing him such exceptional speed. He struggled, but couldn’t free himself from his prison of ice. “Let’s end this,” Linke said, switching back to Fire. Recht also changed, returning to Air. “Ice doesn’t go with Stone,” Recht told Linke. “Especially not flawed Ice.” “I did my best,” Linke said as they ran forward, winds cycling around their body. Flames began to dance around them as they leapt into the air. “Not good enough,” Recht said. “Leave stone creating to me from now on!” “With pleasure!” The flaming cyclone of a kick came down, smashing into the Dark Hunter. It threw him free of the ice, releasing him, but the wound was fatal, crushing his chest in the process, as well as burning apart a majority of his internal organs. The Toa spun around, throwing his right arm forward and snapping his fingers. “Checkmate,” they said as the Dark Hunter erupted into flames from the attack, dying on the spot. “Case closed,” Linke said. “Now your sculpture will be safe, as will the mayor tomorrow,” he assured Recht. “Let’s hope so,” Recht said as they split apart, parting ways as usual these days.

Day Twenty
“I would like to welcome you all to the opening of the new city hall,” the Ga-Matoran Mayor of Doppel Nui said to the large crowd gathered before her, in the streets, waiting to see both the hall and Recht’s new sculpture. There were many civilians present, and just about as many police, just in case something should happen. The mayor needed protection, obviously. And Gahla and Cenrik were up on stage, nearby in case something were to happen as well. Doppel Nui wasn’t led by a Turaga, nor a warlord, nor anything of the sort that a conventional island would have. It was formerly led by Epee, but one year ago his rule ended, and his warlord status was no longer required to be leader of the island. So rather than have divine right as a way of making a leader of the island or someone who’s demanding the job due to their power, such as another warlord coming and claiming he should rule because of his status. Or a Turaga coming, once again, because of status, the island now had enlightened despotism as the way of providing a ruler or leader of the island. The right person for the right job, and this was decided as being a mayor, not a leader, a village elder, nor a lord of any sort, just a mayor. Power enough, but not enough to corrupt. The mayor for the last year had been the same Ga-Matoran, a woman by the name of Marchia. She was a fair, wise and honorable leader. She kept the laws fair, the economy going, and all routes of trade open. She knew enough not to defy Dark Hunters coming to the island for business, but also made sure they were kept in check. She would have regular negotiations with the Dark Hunters’ leader about the situation, and he would actually listen. She was a woman to be respected. Her greatest asset was her sharp and silver tongue, which no one had ever seen fail her in the past. She always had logic on her side, and would easily trap someone in a word game until they gave up and accepted whatever she wanted. Marchia was truly a great ruler. And now, finally, there was a city hall befitting of her. One year earlier, it had been destroyed in a battle. But now, it was finally rebuilt. Its’ majesty had taken one year to complete. Despite being sensible, it was decided that a grand structure was best to serve as city hall. She didn’t object. It would show any visitors that she was a proper leader, instead of having some drab structure as her city hall. Large archs of brilliant marble that shone in the light, encrusted walls and windows with stained glass, even the inside was brilliantly furnished with the finest furniture that one could procure, and beautiful works of art donated by various artists, but not by Recht. No, that donation was elsewhere, out front. She had hired him - forced him - to sculpt an entrance statue for her city hall, one to show that the mayor - if it be her or another - was not to be trifled with, that the mayor was someone to be respected. Recht had taken the offer not because he was forced to. That wouldn’t stop him. Shady Matoran demanding work had threatened Linke in the past or they would kill him. When he told Recht the requests, Recht refused. He returned, said he wouldn’t do it since it bored him, and was attacked. After receiving rough training in the field of combat, Linke was more than able to hold his own against them. He defeated them all with ease, using actual fighting styles against senseless, violent tactics, if they could even be called tactics. That had showed them, and they were then arrested soon after that for an unrelated matter. Linke had never gone to the police about it or anything. Recht had no interest in sculpting for the mayor. Rather, it was because of what he would be able to sculpt with. Marble sent from a rare quarry on the Isle of Angelus Nui. Not only that, but it was blessed by the four Seraphim of the island, the majestic overlords who watched out for the populace. They were respected by all on the island, even above Toa in most cases, even though Toa did the real work. Though for some reason, they had waited a year to send the marble over. Recht had sculpted, spent days on it. And finally it had been completed, and sent in the day before. Linke hadn’t even seen it properly. He was eagerly awaiting this moment. But, being about to be called up on stage, he may have to talk about it, he realized. He had no idea what to say, considering he’d never seen it before. He would have to think fast if he had to talk about it. Fortunately, thinking fast was something he was good at. He shouldn’t have problems with this. “May I call the sculptor of this brilliant piece up?” Marchia called. “Recht, please, come up here!” Linke moved towards the stage. He looked to the sculpture which was now uncovered. It was a twisting design, the same design that was Recht’s personal emblem, but changed in a way that people would no longer recognize it as that, unless they looked very closely. Rather than be Recht’s emblem, that was simply the base. The statue was then cut apart at various points, keeping the twisted design, but now, no longer being Recht’s, but a new symbol altogether. It still made people wonder and stare in astonishment. “What do you have to say about your brilliant piece of work, Recht?” Marchia asked as he reached her. He shrugged. “I really don’t have much to say about it,” he said. “It was just inspiration striking me. I have no muse, I just let it come and go. That’s all this was, a burst of inspiration.” Good. He was sure he was doing well so far. “What is the design exactly?” Marchia asked. “Nothing,” Linke replied. “But actually... a gift in and of itself. I want you to have that emblem,” he offered the mayor. “Please, take that emblem as my gift as well. Use it as a personal emblem if you wish, or a symbol of office, since you won’t be the only mayor.” She nodded. “I like that. The emblem will be the symbol of mayorship on the island,” she said. More Matoran began to approach, each carrying a vase of some sort, with some different design on them. Marchia smiled, “Ah, more work for the inside, right? Please, take them inside and place them where you think they would look good.” The Matoran began moving past her, into the building with the vases. They were going to add to the inner beauty of the structure, rather than like the sculpture, add to the outside of the city hall. As the third of the six Matoran passed by, something happened. As soon as the fourth took one more step, standing right behind the mayor, they all saw a flash of light go off, and screams erupt from the stage. “Down!” Linke shouted, grabbing Marchia and pushing her down. He got on top of her and then screamed out as he was thrown clear of her. He could hear both Gahla and Cenrik shouting for his, and for the mayor’s, safety. What just happened? He wasn’t sure. There was an explosion, that’s all he knew. Was it an assassination attempt from that Matoran carrying the vase? No, too obvious. ''There is obviously a crime going on here. An assassination attempt on the mayor’s life, but why? Why now? There were other public appearances with less police protection that could have been used.'' ''What was special about this one? Did someone want to level city hall in the process or something?'' Linke ran around the smoke, finally making sure Cenrik was helping Marchia. He saw Gahla taking off as another Matoran fled from the audience, into the streets of the city. Linke pursued along with Gahla. She was ahead of him, but he could catch up soon. He had to catch up and help find out what was going on. As he ran, he caught up to Gahla by forcing himself to run faster. He looked to her as they caught up, “Any idea on who this guy is?” Linke asked. “None,” she replied. “I don’t recognize him.” “What did he do? Have a suspicious look or something?” Linke questioned. “He was laughing. Laughing like crazy,” she replied. “Seems like a good place to start, considering a bomb just went off.” Linke nodded. He looked to his left, to the corner of a street. He saw a Po-Matoran standing on it, wearing a light brown and yellow Kanohi Hau. The Matoran watched him with wide eyes, and stared at him. Linke stopped, making Gahla stop as a reaction. Linke could only say, “Alle... Allesendro?” Gahla looked ahead, but the suspect had vanished. She cursed and looked to the Matoran of Stone, “Who is he?” “My old friend,” Linke muttered, rushing towards him. Allesendro ran forward, meeting him halfway. The two Matoran clasped hands and smiled at each other. “It’s been a while,” Allesendro said. “I can’t believe you’re on Doppel Nui!” “I have been for the last year,” Linke answered. “I was going to move on, but kind of got stuck here. I got a reputation for myself as a famous sculptor.” “Famous sculptor?” Allesendro asked. “Which one? I don’t know of any sculptor - or artist, for that matter - named Linke.” “My name is ‘Recht’ while I’m here,” he answered. “Oh, you’re Recht?” Allesendro asked. He grinned, “I can’t believe you, my old friend, are a famous sculptor.” “I know. Crazy, isn’t it?” Linke said. “If you two are done, we have a suspect to track down, Linke,” Gahla said. “Suspect?” Allesendro asked. He looked up and down Gahla, at the robes she wore. “Are you a cop or something?” “Detective,” she replied. “And Linke is acting as a consultant. He’s been assisting my partner and myself for a while now. He’s very good at this job.” “Just like art,” Allesendro said. “You’re just great at anything, aren’t you, Linke?” “Kind of,” Linke said, shrugging. “It’s nothing. It’s actually pretty easy...” “Easy?” Allesendro laughed. “I can’t believe you call sculpting masterpiece after masterpiece and working with the police ‘easy’.” “Gahla! Recht!” They heard. “Oh... I go by Recht. Please, when we’re around others, use my alias,” Linke said quickly as they saw Cenrik running towards them. “No problem. I can do that,” Allesendro replied. “Who’s he?” “Our new partner. Another detective,” Linke answered as Cenrik arrived. “Did you get the guy?” he questioned. “Lost him,” Gahla answered. “But he never stopped laughing. I’m sure we can get him with ease.” “Who are you?” Cenrik asked, looking now to the other Po-Matoran. “A witness or something?” “My name is Allesendro,” the newcomer said. “I’m an old friend of Recht’s.” The two shook hands. “An old friend?” he asked Recht. “That’s a first. Nice to meet you, Allesendro.” “Likewise,” the visiting Po-Matoran said, ending their handshake. “How’s Marchia?” Linke questioned. “You refer to her by her name alone?” Cenrik questioned, “Recht! Show some respect!” “Okay, sorry. How’s the mayor?” he asked. “The bomb wasn’t strong enough. And jumping on her saved her from any damage at all. You did everything properly, Recht. I’m proud of you,” Cenrik told him. “Happy I could be of help,” Linke said. “Now, we have to get going,” Cenrik said. “Recht, you coming?” He looked to Allesendro and back to Cenrik. “You two have it covered. I’m going to leave with Allesendro. Sorry.” “I understand,” Gahla said, running off on her own. Cenrik looked to them once more, and then raced after Gahla. “You could have gone,” Allesendro said. “I wouldn’t have minded.” “I would have,” Linke replied. “I need to catch up with you. I’d have hated having to wait.” “Old friend, just like the old days,” Allesendro said. “Always wanting to be with a friend over all else.” “Of course,” Linke said, starting to walk. “I’ll show you to my home.” “Your studio?” Allesendro asked. “You could call it that,” Linke answered, leading him towards Recht Sculpting. As the day started to come to an end, Allesendro had gone out for a bit. Linke opened the path to the downstairs and rushed down, searching for his partner. When he finally saw Recht carving a piece of wood in a second, small room, he rushed in. “Do you need me for something?” he questioned, not bothering to look up to his partner at all. “I just need to tell you I have a guest,” Linke said. “And he thinks I’m the real sculptor. Please, stay down here until he leaves in a few days. I don’t want him to know I’m a fraud. That, and I have a case to work...” “Fine,” Recht said. “I’ll only come out when he’s gone then. Is that fine?” “It is,” Linke answered. “Thanks.” Recht gave no other word as Linke walked out, racing up the stairs. He sealed the door again and went towards the door as he saw Gahla and Cenrik approaching. “Did you find anything?” Linke asked. “We did, actually,” Gahla replied. “Something interesting.” “We managed to get an identification on the guy,” Cenrik said. “Then we looked into our files and found him.” “So, he’s already been arrested?” Linke asked. “Yeah. About six months ago,” Gahla replied. “On crimes of using Ethanum, playing Uuk-Koi, and working for the ‘Ghost’.” “So, he was probably on drugs,” Linke said. “Explains the laughter.” “Or the ‘Ghost’ wants her dead and sent a man to do it, and said man found it funny,” she suggested. “Actually I prefer to think that his mind snapped during a game,” Cenrik said. “Makes more sense to me.” “Then why would ‘Ghost’ keep him around?” Gahla questioned. “Why send in a man high on Ethanum in to do an assassination?” Cenrik questioned. “Brain damage seems much more likely.” “Could be both,” Linke said. “Maybe a decoy for the real guy, though. Whatever it is - drugs or brain damage - I don’t see how he’s an effective tool in the least. At least, for such an assassination mission. I mean, bombs in a vase? Come on! How could a Matoran with either of those problems be expected to be detonating bombs like that?” “I don’t know that much,” Cenrik said. Gahla nodded in agreement. “Well, let’s bring him in,” Linke said. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Day Twenty-One
Linke, Cenrik, and Gahla crept around the streets, searching for the Matoran. He was well hidden, but they would eventually find him. “Wait,” Linke breathed. “What if...” “What?” Cenrik asked. “Turn around,” he breathed, glancing behind them. “Just keep watching that path.” After a few moments, the Matoran raced by, getting farther away from them. “How did you do that?” Gahla questioned. “I heard someone coming. I was lucky, plain and simple,” Linke admitted. He raced forward and tackled the man as he fled, helping to keep him down while he was being interrogated on the spot. “Did you try to assassinate the mayor?” Gahla demanded. “Yes,” he hissed. “Are you brain damaged?” Cenrik questioned, jumping straight to his main point. “Or are you just high on drugs?” “Both,” the Matoran grinned. “Both?” Cenrik asked. “Uuk-Koi ruined my mind,” he admitted. “And Ethanum was to keep my nerves during the mission. I was going to run up and stab her, then flee.” “Didn’t work,” Gahla said. “Someone beat you to it, it looks like. Now, who hired you, and what do you know about that explosion?” “The ‘Ghost’ hired me, obviously,” the Matoran answered. “And the explosion? That made me laugh so hard! But I don’t know anything about explosives.” The three looked to each other. “I think he’s telling the truth,” Linke said to them, shrugging. “I really do think so.” “How can you be sure?” Cenrik questioned. “His posture,” Linke pointed out. “It’s fine. His body language is fine. There’s nothing to make him look uncertain, he’s telling the truth. At least, as far as I can tell. I’m about ninety percent sure he’s telling the truth here.” “I don’t know if that’s good enough,” Gahla said, shaking her head. “Either way, he’s a criminal. We can interrogate him to get information on the ‘Ghost’, and he should be locked up as is. But for now... he’s not our main suspect in the attempted assassination,” she told them. “Please get Quey to see to his imprisonment,” she said. Cenrik nodded and walked out to find the officer. Linke looked to Gahla, “Then who else do we pursue? Do you have any leads?” “He was the only one,” she replied. “But there were others there. There were others we could look into. We have an attendance list, and we’re crosschecking that list with the backgrounds of known criminals. If we find any matches, then we’ll get our man.” “Criminals in general?” Linke asked. “Or criminals matching the use of the explosive? There’s a difference.” “In general,” she replied. “Any lead.” “Even if it makes no sense?” he questioned. “If I did something minor... like I stole a tablet, was caught, and my information logged, then you’d still call me in for questioning since I have a criminal background? Are you really going to enforce that much? Use that much manpower on this?” Gahla glared at him and shook her head, “You just have to make things hard. You just have to make me justify everything I do.” “If you want to ever become a Senior Detective, you should have justification at the ready,” he told her. “So you’re not trying to make my job difficult... but rather get me ready?” she asked. “Since when do you care that much?” “Since my partner decided to trust you with our secret,” Linke answered. “Secret?” the prisoner questioned, chuckling and leaning forward. “What is that? And your partner? Tell me more...” Both Matoran glared at him and went back to their conversation. They didn’t care about him. He was insane and a criminal, who would believe him if he heard a little too much? “We’ll run everything ranging from assault on up,” Gahla told him. “That’s our normal procedure for something like this.” “And if the criminal was smart enough not to be there?” Linke questioned. “Then what? Start running all records of everyone on the island?” “Yes,” she said. “What if it’s someone not from here? Perhaps a Dark Hunter?” he asked. “Then you can’t exactly find them.” “A Dark Hunter using such a secretive assassination plan?” she questioned. “They would probably walk in, commit murder, and walk out. That seems more their style than using an explosive hidden in a vase.” “You never know,” he replied. “Different Dark Hunters have different modus operandi,” he shrugged. “We need a lure,” Gahla said, walking out of the room with him, leaving the Matoran alone inside. “We need a way to lure him out again.” “We could reset the mayor’s speech,” he offered. “Marchia would probably be willing, since she was interrupted by the explosion last time. I’m sure she’d reset and let us wait for the assassin again. We round up everyone in the audience, in the area, and just start going through them. I’m sure the bomb was on a detonator of some sort. I don’t think someone would be able to time it to such a precise instant to blow up in such close proximity,” Linke told Gahla. She nodded, “If Marchia would do it, that would work perfectly. We just need to get more art. That would involve moving objects again, and giving the detonation a place to work from.” “There’s enough art from last time,” he said. “Just use it again, and we’re set. I’ll even throw a vase in.” “Sounds like a good plan,” she said. “We just need to tell Marchia and be sure she’s up for it. I’m sure she’ll do it. I’m sure she wants this guy caught.” “Please, let me be the one to talk to her,” Linke said. “I’m sure I can convince her to do it.” The two walked through the hallways of the newly completed city hall. Marchia allowed Linke to be the only one to speak to her, and the only one nearby. She didn’t even have bodyguards around. She trusted him enough as “Recht”. “So... will you do it?” he asked her. “Will you allow us to reset the speech? The entire event since it was... canceled last time from the explosion? It would give us a chance to catch this guy. I can assure you, no harm will befall you. We’ll protect you, Marchia.” “Do you have any other way to catch this guy?” she asked him. “No,” he replied. “We have no leads. We could go through every record on the island, but that wouldn’t get us far. We have no other way, and this guy needs to be caught. I give you my word; you won’t be in harm’s way.” “I have a question for you,” she said. “Do you think it could be the Toa?” He stared at her in shock and quickly shook his head. “No,” he forced himself to be calm in his answer. “The Toa wouldn’t do this. He said he’s a patron of the arts, and he is justice. Both traits are opposites of an assassination attempt. He destroyed art, if he was the man behind it, and he tried to kill you, an unjust act.” “How can you be sure he was telling the truth?” she asked him. “He’s fought Dark Hunters,” he answered. “He helped to make this island what it is today. I believe in him for everything he’s done. Please, just trust me. It can’t be the Toa, it just can’t be.” “I’ll believe you... for the time being,” she replied. “Now, I do agree to this. I strongly believe in the police force. I can’t have them failing now, or faith will be lost in them from others on the island. We can’t have that. When do you wish for this setup to happen?” Linke was surprised it was so easy. He decided to run with it at the moment, instead of going to ask anyone in the actual police force. “How about in an hour?” he asked. “We think it should be today,” he told her, lying. “Today would be perfect, one day after would make some sense. Trying to salvage and trying to appear strong after an assassination attempt.” She nodded, “It makes sense to me. So be it.” “We just need to have the art moving again,” he said. “Where is it?” “A lot was damaged in the explosion,” she replied. “No good, then,” he said. “We want to keep the appearance up. We’ll need new pieces to replace them. I’ll even throw a piece or two into the mix.” “I’ll have my people get on the securing of the pieces,” she said. “Recht, just be fast about getting yours to me, getting the word out, and getting the police here.” “I will be. Don’t worry,” he assured her, parting company and leaving the building. As soon as he reached the street, he ran. “You mean it’s today?” Gahla shouted at him, shaking her head. “Why today of all days?” she questioned. “Couldn’t you have given us more time?” “It makes sense,” he replied. “Now, we have to get ready, fast.” “How does it possibly make sense?” she demanded. “I’ll explain it later. For now, we need to get the word out across the entire island, police in the area and art gathered. We need everything in place,” he told her. “Now, will you help me with that, or will you keep asking questions to slow me down?” “Fine, we’ll get on it,” she answered. “Now, just keep your end up. Get your pieces soon and get over there.” “Do you want Recht there?” he asked. “For the Toa? Or do you want the police to handle the entire situation?” “We won’t need Recht unless it’s a Dark Hunter,” she told him. “I doubt it’s a Dark Hunter. Just have him in the area.” “I will,” he replied, departing for his business. “Fine,” Recht said. “No argument?” Linke asked. “It’s important,” Recht answered. “So no. I won’t argue. I’ll go, no problem. Any Dark Hunter is an immediate threat. We have to be ready.” Linke was sure Allesendro would return soon. He didn’t want the entrance open, or Recht to be anywhere nearby while he was around. “Could you go ahead? I need to wait for Allesendro to come back.” Recht sighed and started up the stairs, “Fine, I’ll go so I don’t ruin things, so I don’t blow my own cover or anything. Just don’t get too involved in your old friend. I don’t know how long he’ll be here, but he may get in the way in the end.” “He won’t get in the way,” Linke assured Recht. “But thanks. And thanks for the warning.” “If I wasn’t here to keep you out of trouble, who would be?” Recht asked, entering into the main structure. Linke sealed the door behind them. “No one,” he answered. “And I thank you for that silently every day.” “And you should,” Recht replied, leaving the building. As he left, he wondered about his partnership with Linke, who was thinking about Allesendro. Linke sat down and waited for the return of his friend. But as he looked outside, seeing Gahla approaching, he knew he was out of time. “Okay, I’m ready to go,” Linke told Gahla, leaving with the detective towards the city hall for the speech and trap. Everything was going fine. No one was making any moves to stop Marchia from her speech, from the “opening” of the city hall. It was all going like it should have, mostly like it had the previous day, up until the explosion, of course. Maybe the would-be-assassin was gone. Maybe he was a Dark Hunter, or a visitor who had since departed. Or maybe he hadn’t heard about it. Or maybe he no longer cared about killing Marchia. The speech neared its’ eventual end. The works of art were being brought up and now displayed to the people. Most were vases, but some were statues. Linke assumed she couldn’t find enough vases to replicate the previous day, but that was fine. Any art was fine. Then, it all went wrong. The explosion came not from a single piece, but from many, all at once. The simultaneous explosions threw Marchia from the stage, with police bursting in to attempt to stop anyone from fleeing. Linke raced up to the stage, looking through the rubble for anything of use. He stopped and looked to two pieces, both by Recht, were damaged only by the explosion. There was no explosive in them, unlike every other piece of work. ''But why? Why would whoever was doing this spare his work of a bomb?'' He sniffed the air, and then realized the answer. It had a specific smell to it, one that was found in only one location. He stood up and looked out to the audience. “Allesendro! You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Mayor of Doppel Nui, Marchia!” he shouted, glaring at his friend in the audience. “Recht! How could you say such a thing?” Allesendro shouted back. “I didn’t do it!” “The dust,” Linke replied. “The dust from the mines! You never changed jobs. You still work in those same mines. They’re the only ones with this kind of dust, the kind of dust that makes this smell. You spared my work because we’re friends. But that was your mistake. Now, why did you do this?” Police surrounded Allesendro. He was dragged from his seat and thrown onto the stage at Linke’s feet. He looked up at his old friend, his hands tied behind his back by the police. “I was hired by the Dark Hunters. They wanted me to draw the Toa out and kill him. I was trying to reach the island, to see you... but the blockade around the island stopped me. They’d have killed me if I hadn’t done anything. I can only leave once I bring them the Toa’s head,” he said. “And in one week’s time, they were to come for me and kill me if I failed them. I had no choice! I couldn’t turn around, or I was dead. I figured that killing a fugitive on the island wouldn’t matter...” “You attacked the mayor to draw him out,” Linke analyzed. “But it failed. What do you have to say?” “All I can say,” the Po-Matoran answered. “I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry. But it doesn’t matter. I’ll be dead in about six days as it is. They won’t stand for my failure. No matter where I am, I’ll die. And I can’t get off the island with the blockade - no one can. Linke... this was the only way. This island will die. The economy will crash in upon itself, and all will die here. You can’t sustain yourselves forever. I was trying to do what was right. I have no regrets. I tried to do the right thing for everyone involved,” Allesendro said, resigning himself to his fate.

Day Twenty-Two
“Where have you been all day?” Linke asked, taking wood off of a chunk of wood with a knife, trying to whittle something, but failing. He wasn’t the creative one of the duo, after all. “Just out,” Recht answered. “Don’t worry; I still use your name as my alias when I’m out.” “This is a very odd situation,” Linke said. “Using each other’s identities in public...” “Do you miss using your name all the time?” Recht asked, taking a seat beside the desk. “No,” Linke said. “It’s not that. It’s just... living in secret like this. I don’t really know what to think of it. I miss people using my real name, but I know we have to keep things secret. I know your anonymity is important to maintain. But if someone comes looking...” “They’ll find you, which is exactly the point,” Recht said. “But you miss the point I’m trying to make,” Linke answered. “If someone searching for you finds me using your name, they’ll know I have connections to you. Then it’s not a very far jump to finding you.” “By that time, we’ll be ready for them,” Recht answered. “I don’t know,” Linke said. “If I’m eliminated, then what happens? No Duos Stone to fall back on for protection.” “Not with you, at least,” Recht said. “As long as you haven’t lost your half...” “I’ll probably have it on my corpse,” Linke assured him. “Just make a break for it...” “There’s no point in talking about this,” Recht told him. “You wouldn’t take half out to be alone. You wouldn’t have it on you if someone looking for me killed you. We’ll be fine. I’ll be safe.” “Nothing will stop us as long as we can combine,” Linke said, nodding. Recht didn’t answer him. He only rose and walked towards the back wall. “I’ll be in my workshop,” he told Linke. “I’ll call down if I need you,” Linke said. “What are you going to work on now?” “A statue,” he replied. “The Kanohi Dragon.” Linke nodded, “Sounds like a great idea to sculpt.” “It’s personal,” he replied. “Just for fun. You can set it up wherever you want it,” Recht said, starting down the steps. “Oh, is there any of that blessed marble left?” Linke called down. “No, why?” Recht called back. “Just wondering what you might have used it for,” Linke replied. “You know, if we had any left.” “Okay,” Recht answered, continuing down. The door slid closed, sealing itself. Linke began to whistle as he whittled. He stood up and walked towards the door. He poked his head outside at the sound of Rahi footfalls. He saw two Kane-Ra come up to the front of the shop. The tamed Rahi bulls were often used as forms of transport for the police, and not only for riding, but for also pulling wagons and other larger objects. These bulls had wagons mounted behind them, one officer riding each bull, one more officer on the front of each of the enclosed wagons. “Can I do something for you officers?” Linke called out, closing the door behind him. He heard the doors to one of the wagons open. He saw a blue and white armored Matoran walking out, coming towards him. It was Quey, the man in charge of the police ranks, and the highest-ranking officer as Lieutenant of the Doppel Nui Guard. He had complete control over the police, with only Chief Layef outranking him. The tree of command was split, but both forks led back to Layef himself. One branch was the chain of command of the police, on which Quey was on top, except for Layef, but he was above all. The other command featured the detectives in a jumble. Senior on top, Junior on bottom, all intermixed without actual ranking other than Senior being higher. No single man held a higher position over all others, except Layef, on the very top of all. Quey, due to his position could easily mobilize these men without having to ask another. Layef’s duty was to trust in Quey’s judgment and stop him if things got too out of hand. Chances are he didn’t know about whatever was going on currently. “Recht, you’re under arrest,” Quey told the Ta-Matoran, drawing a dagger from his robes of rank. “Come quietly and we won’t have a problem. Make a scene, and I have more than enough men to bring you down, breaking your body in the process.” Linke put his hands up. “What... what did I do?” he questioned. “I demand to know why I’m being arrested!” An officer came up behind Linke and tied his arms together behind his back. He allowed Quey to lead him back to the first wagon, a prison wagon. He pushed Linke inside and then climbed in as well. There was a division, a bar door, like on a cell, between them. Linke watched Quey, still looking for his answer. “There’s been a jewelry theft,” Quey said. “And all of our evidence points to you as the culprit, Recht,” Quey told him. “Not that you didn’t already know that.” “I didn’t do anything!” Linke snapped. “When did the crime happen? I’ll have an alibi because I didn’t do it!” “The crime occurred in the middle of the night,” Quey answered. “Do you have an alibi for that?” “At home, sleeping. It was night, after all,” Linke answered. “Convenient that you live alone,” Quey answered. “You could have come and gone as you pleased and stolen the jewel.” Linke could have brought up Recht, but Recht wouldn’t be a credible witness, not for Quey. And that would only confuse matters. “What jewel was stolen?” Linke questioned. “The Crown Topaz,” Quey answered. The Crown Topaz was a very, very valuable stone. It was probably the rarest stone on the entire island. It was given in a massive trade many years ago, between Doppel Nui and a single buyer, not a government nor a city, just a single man. He wanted many pieces of work for his gallery. The greatest artists of the island had pooled their work and given them to him. In exchange, he gave the Crown Topaz from his personal collection. It was an orange stone the size of a Matoran’s fist, and when light passed through it, it somehow sparkled like a rainbow, with a myriad of colors, rather than the single color of orange. It was one-hundred years ago, much longer than before Linke or Recht came to the island. It was when Epee still ruled the land. He wanted it to boost the economy of the island, and to have in his personal collection. When he left power and the new government was established, the jewel was placed in a treasury building and occasionally taken to a museum or two. Marchia was currently looking - supposedly - for a buyer, for the money and supplies that the sale would bring. What was the point of having such an item just sitting around if you weren’t getting anything out of it? She figured selling it would be of much greater use than it sitting in the vaults. “How could I even get to the Topaz?” Linke questioned. “I’m not good enough to get past that much security.” “You’re a skilled fighter,” Quey said. “The Halen incident proved that.” “That’s very true,” Linke answered. “But the guards weren’t beaten down, were they?” “No,” Quey answered. “But stealth...” “I’m not the stealthiest Matoran,” Linke answered. “I don’t think I could even break into the Doppel Nui Police Station, let alone the vaults.” “The evidence is still pointing at you,” Quey told Linke. “What evidence is this?” Linke questioned. “The ‘R’ engraved at the sight,” Quey told him. “It matches every signature of yours’ we could find. And then your symbol was at the scene as well.” “Why would I carve my symbol into a place I just robbed - hypothetically speaking?” Linke questioned. “That’s just asking for me to give up! Just asking to get caught!” “I don’t try to understand what criminals think,” Quey said. “I’m not a detective. Getting into the mindset isn’t that important to me. I just enforce the laws.” “You’re following blindly,” Linke growled. “You have to think about it more. Who cares if you’re not a detective? You should still do all you can to figure out the criminal mind!” he snapped. “I was never that interested in the psychological method of the job,” Quey replied. “I just want to be able to save lives. To save others.” “Then go to someplace that needs help. I heard that Metru Nui is undergoing repairs from the Visorak invasion. Go there!” “That’s not what I mean,” Quey replied. “That’s not it at all.” “Then find somewhere else to save lives,” Linke growled. “Somewhere not so focused on crime. And by that I mean somewhere where you won’t be persecuted for not thinking like a detective would.” “You think that the justice element is too thick on this island,” Quey analyzed. “And as a result, you say I should go somewhere where it’s toned down, so I won’t be as looked down upon by people like you. That’s just stupid.” “How is it stupid?” Linke questioned. “It makes sense.” “How does it make sense?” Quey demanded. “Well...” Linke started. “It’s just common sense. How can I even try to explain it to you?” “Everywhere that justice thrives should be as equally dedicated to justice,” Quey said. “That’s what I believe. Leaving here for another location wouldn’t matter in the world that justice should be.” “But justice isn’t that perfected,” Linke told him. “It varies based on location. Toa are actually allowed to help on other islands. They’re the main force of justice,” he said, taking shots at the law of Doppel Nui. “Of course things are going to be different...” “But in my mind, it’s all the same,” Quey answered. “I don’t care if there is a difference. To me, it’s all the same.” “But it’s not!” Linke snapped. “You of all people should realize that! I thought you were smarter than that!” “Let me tell you something,” Quey said. “To get to where I am today, I served Epee for many years. I was a member of the secret police and did my job effectively as an officer. I was content with my position. But when I started to realize some of Epee’s orders, and started to follow them and kill... then I realized that I needed power. I needed to be able to control the masses of what could be used for justice. I needed to be able to make sure that would never happen again, but rather that the people would be safe. That’s why I became the Lieutenant of the Guard. So that I could keep the police in line and make sure someone of dark intentions didn’t take them over for their own personal tools, unlike Epee. “I’ve been doing this job for the last six months. I’ve been shaping it into the image I believe it should be in, one following my beliefs of justice. I’ve shaped the police into a tool to be wielded by myself or by Chief Layef. I’ve made sure to mold it into something that no one can use as their own personal weapon. I’ve made sure my men are honorable, men to be respected and men to show respect. Men who won’t allow themselves to become tools again, those who will respect life, not take it.” “Very moving,” Linke said. “But there has to be a reason for that. What happened because of Epee?” Linke questioned. “Why do you think something happened?” Quey demanded. “You wouldn’t change just because you had to kill a few people, not this much. Not to such an extreme, anyway,” Linke said. “Something had to set you off. Something had to make you the man you are now. Everything is triggered by something. What triggered you?” “Nothing,” Quey growled. “You either had to kill someone important to you, or you had to watch them die,” Linke said. “That’s it, isn’t it? Tell me that’s it. I want to be right about this one. I want to see the look on your face when I’m right.” Quey growled at him and turned around. He turned back, “You know we’re wearing masks. You can’t see my face.” “Very true,” Linke said. “But I can see your body language. I can see your immense anger,” Linke told him. “Body language? What a foolish thing,” Quey said. “It sounds like something a detective would use.” “That’s another difference,” Linke said. “I think like a detective. You don’t. I put into practice methods that detectives would use, while you ignore them. While you even hate them. You hate detectives it sounds like. That’s why you hate me as well.” “I don’t hate you,” Quey told him. “Stop lying,” Linke told him. “I can see the lie on your body. That... and well...” He shrugged, “You came after me with such evidence that is obvious of framing.” “I’m doing my job,” Quey hissed. “I’m looking into you for a crime pointed at you.” “I wouldn’t point at myself,” Linke said. “Not if I was smart. I think like a detective, you just admitted that. That means I’m smart, since you have to be smart and clever to be a detective. So, I just proved myself innocent, don’t you think?” “Nice try,” Quey growled. “You’re not getting out that easily.” Linke shrugged, “I’ll be out soon. I know that much, because I’m innocent. There’s no way I’ll stay locked up in here, or in actual prison. I’m an innocent man.” “We’ll figure that out as we investigate,” Quey told him. “So you’ll be investigating too?” Linke questioned. “Isn’t that - in this situation - more of a detective thing to do? Police just come to arrest, to maintain peace. Detectives investigate crimes to get the culprits, who the police arrest. Are you actually going to investigate like a detective will?” Quey muttered something. He looked up, about to start shouting at Linke, when the wagon stopped. He turned around and opened the doors, looking out at the station. He jumped off of the platform and took two steps forward, enough to meet the figure of Derr running towards him. “Detective,” Quey said. “Lieutenant,” Derr said back. “What news do you have?” Quey questioned. “We have our culprit,” Derr answered. He pulled a bag off of his belt and held it up. “We recovered the Crown Topaz already.” Quey looked in astonishment. “Where was it?” he questioned. “A Matoran of Technology had it. He was trying to frame Recht. He had many of Recht’s works. He was able to copy the logo and the signature, well, the ‘R’, from the works, from the emblem that some of them were, and the signature that a few of them contained. We found him within minutes of starting our search. He didn’t hide his tracks well.” Quey looked back to Linke and muttered something to himself. He took the keys off of his belt and threw them to Derr as he walked towards the station, brushing past the detective. “Free him,” Quey muttered. “See to it he gets back home.” Derr looked to the keys, and then up to Linke, then to Quey. He ran towards the wagon and opened the door for Linke. The Ta-Matoran exited and nodded his thanks. He watched Quey walk off, wondering what actually did happen to him to make him the way he was.

Day Twenty-Three
Recht walked around his small underground gallery. He had the area fitted with tables, strong tables, able to hold his large quantities of marble and other stones to carve from. He had wheels for sharpening his tools, many tools stored around him. He had fireplaces to heat anything he needed with, he even had some food supplies around, in case he was so focused he wouldn’t go up to get food, to get energy. There was plenty of stored water, both for drinking, cleaning, and other stores for his art, for anything he would need. He had massive amounts of clay in a dugout in a wall, and more. The room was a square. It was the size of the store above him, so as not to stretch out to other areas, to under other buildings, just in case someone would find them by digging out. It was large, comfortable, and even had bedding and ventilation, also allowing for life underneath the store. Just in case he got stuck somehow, or something happened that he had to stay down there. That was put in on Linke’s orders. Recht had insisted that he wouldn’t need such survival supplies, or anything that would help him live down there. He just needed supplies for his art. But Linke had insisted otherwise. “You’ve been targeted once before in your life,” Linke had said. “If something happens again, at least you can survive down there.” There were enough tools that no weapons were needed. Chisels, hammers, and more were scattered about, all of them sharp, strong, and hard. Recht would be safe if something happened, if his life was in danger. Even Linke could retreat down there for defense. It was completely secure with only one way in, and strong enough walls to ensure that fact. Recht did a majority of his work on the Duos Stone in the solitude of the gallery. Linke sometimes called it a bunker, Recht always called it his gallery, or his workshop. The secondary powers were developed usually in the gallery. Recht had created the powers of Stone down there, but had taken it elsewhere to mature for one week, to gain strength among its’ element, among stones in a mountain. Now, he had just finished working on another such stone. The one that Linke had created a few days prior. The stone containing the powers of Ice. The unstable stone that Linke had created and used to stop a Dark Hunter threat that nothing else could stop, nothing but freezing the enemy in ice. Recht placed the Ice stone on a ledge. He walked towards a locked cabinet imbedded in the wall, and pulled a key out of a pouch he wore on his belt. He put the key in the lock and pulled the doors open. They creaked from inactivity. He didn’t open it very often. He had only opened it twice since the year prior, since he had met Linke. Once to put things into, and then one other time to check on the contents. This would only be the second time he would check on the contents inside. He looked into the darkness of the cabinet. Light started to come in as the Lightstone rigged in the roofing of it came to life as the doors remained open. He reached inside, his arms up to the midpoint between his wrists and elbows disappearing into the wall as he took grip of the item deep within. He pulled it out far enough to see. He took grip of the handle that was present, and walked to another table. He put the briefcase atop the table and reached for the two latches, one on each side of the handle. “What’s that?” He turned around, startled. He saw Linke leaning against another table, fingering the fully functional Ice powered stone. He slid the stone into the pouch he wore on his belt, alongside his original half of the Duos Stone. He stepped forward, trying to get a closer look at the case. “It’s nothing,” Recht said, resting his hands on the latches. He wasn’t going to open it for Linke. “You pulled it out. Aren’t you going to open it?” Linke asked once he noticed that Recht kept his hands on it. “No,” Recht said. “I just needed some room in the cabinet,” he lied. “You barely use that cabinet. I could hear the squeak from the stairs. You’re lying to me.” “Look, Linke,” Recht said. “I don’t tell you what to do with your life. I don’t get involved in your affairs, especially in those of the police. Please have the same respect for my life.” “You don’t even want me asking questions when I’m concerned about you? When I’m curious?” Linke inquired. “Exactly,” Recht answered. “Look. We’ve only known each other for a little over a year. There’s still a lot I don’t know about you. A lot you don’t know about me. How ‘bout we start learning more about each other?” Linke asked. “I’d like to know more about your past. All I really know is that you’re an agent of some Av-Matoran group.” “Never mention that,” Recht hissed. He walked away from the case, closing the distance between himself and his partner. He grabbed Linke by the throat and stared into his eyes. “Never mention that I was their agent,” he hissed again with deadly intent. Linke had never seen such rage in his partner’s eyes. It frightened him that Recht would be this violent. “You say it in such a way that you’re no longer with them. Whoever they are,” Linke gasped. “What... what does that mean?” “It doesn’t mean anything,” Recht muttered, letting him go. “It was just a faulty choice of words. Now, please. Leave me. I have things to do.” “Recht, I’m worried about you,” Linke said. “Why? Because you lost your friend, Allesendro? Is that it? So now you’re attaching yourself to me, to be sure I’m not going to turn sides and become an enemy – a threat? Is that it, Linke? You’re just doing your job as a consultant to the police?” “I know about the psyche,” Linke said. “You’re acting hostile. The secretive ways you have, the new hostility you show... something’s wrong.” “Very deductive. Do they reward you or praise you at the station for such an obvious observation?” Recht questioned. He turned to look Linke in the eyes. “I can see, by just looking in your eyes, that you’re very confused. That you’re looking for connections when there aren’t any. You’re thinking about me, thinking about my current actions, and trying desperately to connect the dots. That’s what a detective would do. Connect the dots. But you can’t figure out how they connect, so you’re stuck, confused... scared. Now, Linke. By looking into your eyes and your eyes alone, did I come up with a proper observation of you?” Linke swallowed hard. “You... you did. You got me right on the mark in a few moments. How... how... how did you do that?” “Observation is easy,” Recht muttered. “Its’ application of it that you seem to have problems with. I don’t know how you can be such a help to the police. I bet with someone like me they’d solve everything in at least half the time,” he boasted, trying to bring Linke’s confidence down. “Why are you acting like this?” Linke questioned. “Why?” “Just leave,” Recht said. “I don’t want to see you again for a while.” “Recht, answer me!” Linke shouted, now being the one to close the gap. He grabbed his partner by the shoulder and spun him around, now taking Recht by the throat. “Answer me!” Recht’s eyes appeared dead, uncaring to Linke. “You get many answers acting like this as a cop?” Recht questioned. “I’m not a cop. I’m a consultant working with detectives. If you’re going to mock me, at least get my title right,” Linke said. “I am mocking you,” Recht said. “And it’s a lot better than what you can come up with.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Linke demanded. “A cop is lower than a detective, technically. You’re technically half a detective, which is still higher than a cop, somehow. I’m referring to you as a cop. But now that I’ve explained it, it takes the humor of the situation away. It makes my mock just a sting, not anything for me to laugh at anymore.” Linke had to hold back from punching Recht. He knew Recht could be callous, uncaring, and more, but he never really saw the Le-Matoran like that. He never saw him as most Le-Matoran were – wild and crazy. He always found a more calm, collected approach to things, which was like Linke’s, but to a greater extreme. Linke withdrew his arm and glared into his partner’s eyes. “I don’t know what’s with you today, but I hope it’ll be over by the time I get back. I have to go to the station.” “Good. Go,” Recht told him. He walked towards his briefcase. “Give me some peace.” Linke watched him for another few moments, and then walked up the stairs, leaving Recht alone in the studio. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him today,” Linke was telling Gahla as they walked the halls of the station alone. “You don’t talk to him often, do you?” she questioned. “I mean, other than with immediate danger. You don’t just chat with him?” “No... not really. He’s not the type of guy you ask about what he thinks of the weather, or something,” Linke said. “He’s kind of hard to talk to sometimes. And today is one of those days. But I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him renounce his past.” Gahla gave him a look. “Renounce his past?” she questioned. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s odd. I don’t know if I ever told you... but he’s an agent of a secret group. And today he told me that he’s no longer one. Or at least, implied it.” “Wait, Recht’s some mysterious agent?” she replied. “That’s amazing!” “And that’s why he had the Duos Stones,” Linke told her. “If you wondered about that.” “I put that much together,” she told him. “Good job,” he said. “But according to Recht, our powers of deduction pale in comparison to his. He’s amazing at deduction, it turns out. By just looking into my eyes once, he had me pinned down to my very core of my current thoughts. I’ve never seen something like that before.” “And I’ll bet you did the same before or after, and you came up with almost nothing,” Gahla said. “How did you guess that?” he questioned. “The universe would punish you in such a way to make you look the fool before him,” Gahla said. “That’s a given.” “Well, you’re right,” Linke confirmed. The two walked into the circular briefing room. Already the two other detectives were there, waiting for them. Derr approached them, while Cenrik kept his seat. He held out a tablet. “Here. Just got this earlier today.” “What is it?” Gahla asked, taking the tablet. She skimmed it over, trying to get the main idea before reading it all, while awaiting her answer. “It came from Xia,” Derr said. “One of our officers headed there to visit a friend who works in a factory. Long story short, he caught wind of something bad happening and sent this back via messenger. It got through the Dark Hunters’ blockade, fortunately. Seems there’s a crack in their small fleet.” “How did he get out?” she questioned. “He was already gone by the time it started,” Derr told her. “Now, the reason why he sent this information is because he caught wind that it was about to happen here.” “What was about to happen here?” Linke questioned, trying to read the tablet over Gahla’s shoulder. “It seems that there have been a string of murders,” Derr told him. “They range across various islands, but are all in the same manner. A cut throat, but not deep enough to kill. That’s followed up by a slash to the back of the head, the back of the head pried away, and the brain removed.” Linke and Gahla were sickened by the description of the murders. “Who would do such a thing? And why?” Linke questioned. “There’s a link,” Derr told him. “The link is what concerns us.” “The link is?” Linke questioned. “This serial killer is only killing specific Matoran. And Matoran alone, it would seem,” Derr said. “And those specific Matoran are associated with a group. Members of a group spread across multiple islands. Usually alone. The main group of them are elsewhere, hiding away, or well protected, or something.” “Yeah, yeah,” Linke said. “Now, this group. Who are they?” “Their mission is to give defense to Matoran. They create tools and weapons for Matoran to use to protect themselves with. We think they call themselves the Meiu, but we aren’t certain. Even calling in all the favors we can, no one really seems to know for certain.” Cenrik approached them. “And we have received reports that a year ago an agent came here, and has subsequently been spotted at multiple occasions since last year. The agent came here under Epee’s orders, and remains on the island. The serial killer is supposed to be coming here, hunting that agent down. All we really know is that he’s a Le-Matoran who wears a Kanohi that we believe is a Trard.” Linke’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the description. When he put it all together, about how the group members were being killed. About the gruesome murders. He knew why Recht was acting like he was. He knew about the murders as well. Recht walked the streets of Doppel Nui, looking into the occasional store windows as he walked. He admired some of the art, but hated most of it. Most of the sculptures paled in comparison to his works. He believed his works to be the greatest of all sculptors on Doppel Nui, and many believed that. To look at these other sculptures and then compare them to his work was like comparing night and day. He looked into another window. An orange glow was reflecting on the glass as the day was drawing to an end, and the twilight was beginning. He enjoyed this time of day. It was not light, it was not dark. It was gray. He often compared the day’s rotation as that of a man’s mind, at least, to himself. Good, evil, and moral gray. The twilight was gray, and was like him. He believed himself as gray over anything else. That group was gray, in his opinion. They were helping Matoran, any Matoran. Good or evil. He looked closer in the window. He admired the painting. He couldn’t paint nor draw, so he always enjoyed looking at these stores. Then, he saw a reflection next to his own in the window. “Ah, Recht. Long time no see.” He turned, looking at the black and white armored Matoran of Anger. “Ezim,” Recht muttered, backing away in fear of the Cu-Matoran.

Day Twenty-Four
Linke walked into the store in the early morning hours. He had spent most of his night with the police, investigating what were being called the “Meiu murders”, hoping to use a proper name, trying to piece together a profile for the man who was killing the Matoran. They didn’t have much to go on. What they did have was almost all assumed, which made it very difficult. But they still did the work. And when they had conflicting information, they created a branched plan. One plan would contain one set of traits; another plan would contain minor variations, or major variations, based on their various pieces of evidence. They continued to build such trees of traits and possible motives from their little evidence until they were sure they could match him to any one of these profiles. All they knew was that the killer seemed to be named – or at least, using an alias of – Ezim, and he was a Matoran of Anger. Cu-Matoran were uncommon on the Isle of Doppel Nui, just like they were uncommon everywhere else. If he was here, it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. But some of their evidence from their man on the outside was that Ezim could blend in anywhere and hide everywhere. Their man on the outside of the island was named Hanu. He was formerly a soldier in the Metru Nui Civil War, so he knew weapons, and he knew warfare. And being on Xia for so long, even though not planned, he was learning more and more about weaponry, especially new and dangerous weapons. Linke knocked on the door to Recht’s studio. He called down, “Recht! You down there?” He could hear someone coming up. That was either a good thing, and it was Recht, or it was a bad thing, and it was Ezim. When the door opened, he saw Recht, and he was relieved beyond belief. “You’re okay. That’s great,” Linke said happily. “I feared that Ezim got to you.” “How do you know about Ezim?” Recht questioned, walking into the main room from the stairs. He turned around and leaned against Linke’s desk. “How do you know about him? Do you know everything?” “We know that he’s been killing Meiu,” Linke said, turning to face Recht. “We got a report from an officer outside of Doppel Nui. Meiu all over are being killed. And we received reports that a Le-Matoran Meiu agent on Doppel Nui is next. That’s you, isn’t it?” “Could be someone else,” Recht said, shrugging. “The reports are that he wears a Trard,” Linke told him. “That can only mean you, since the Trard is a fairly uncommon Kanohi. You’re group is the Meiu! Isn’t it?” “That’s what they’re called?” Recht asked him, also answering the question. “But what do you care?” “I care for your safety,” Linke told him. “Why? Did you encounter him? Do you know that he’s here?” Recht didn’t answer him. “Answer me! This is important!” Linke shouted. “He’s a murderer!” “You don’t need to catch him to protect people,” Recht told Linke, “He only kills the Meiu, if that is indeed their name. I’m the only one on the island. I don’t think he’s a threat to the populace. To the order of the island.” “That’s not the point!” Linke shouted. “The point is that he’s a threat to you! That he’s a threat to many more of the Meiu! That he’s already a serial killer, and he needs to be stopped! Now, have you seen him around here?” Linke had taken to using the proposed name. “I saw him yesterday, during the twilight,” Recht said. “How do you know it was him?” Linke questioned. “We need to be positive.” “Don’t tell me,” Recht said. “He’s a Matoran of Anger.” “He is,” Linke confirmed. “In my year on this island, I’ve seen two Matoran of Anger. One who was here on a trading ship, and Ezim. I don’t know of any who live on this island. And the way he spoke to me reveals that it is him.” “How do you know that?” Linke demanded. “Because I know Ezim,” Recht answered. “How do you know him?” Linke questioned. “Is he one of you gone rogue, or something?” “That would be clichéd,” Recht said, shaking his head. “No. He was once someone we helped. He was living on the Tren Krom Peninsula, so we gave the Matoran there some weapons, some tools for survival. He was there. And when the three of us agents were about to depart, he and his group of bandits cornered us and captured us. “They tortured us for two months, demanding secrets so they could create more weapons on their own, without waiting for the Meiu to come. Wanting more powerful weapons than we would provide them with. They wanted to be conquerors. Ezim, at least, wanted that. And he had followers who would do anything for him.” Recht’s voice became unsteady. He lost his cool, stoic demeanor and started to shake visibly. His voice started to change pitch constantly as he lost focus, as his emotions started to flood in to him. He rubbed his arms with his opposite hands, as if he were cold. “He did unspeakable things to one of my companions. He did so much torture to him that he begged to be killed. He begged to be killed in a way that would make you sick to your soul. A way that would be so painful, you’d want to live through whatever torture you were trying to escape from. Except that Ezim’s torture was so much greater than the pain that this death would bring. That’s the scary part of this... Ezim was a master at torture. He and his bandit comrades. He had an entire village under his command after torturing only one Matoran to the brink of death and back, and back to the brink. For months he held one Matoran like that in the outskirts, and travelers would see this. They would be held at swordpoint and forced to watch this, until word spread and Ezim walked in and took it all without opposition. “He was never opposed. But we didn’t know about it when we were sent there to supply the village with tools for survival. Ezim was a power hungry monster, and he still is, it sounds like. We were fully aware of what was going on, but we tried not to care. I didn’t even care. I’m sure my comrades did, but they tried not to show it. When we were tortured, and my one comrades was in such pain, my other comrade and I could no longer watch. He screamed our names so much that I’ll never forget his voice. When I’m in silence, I can hear him screaming for us. I can’t even remember his name, since I only heard ours being called, and Mata Nui’s, begging the Great Spirit for death to come to him, to escape the pain. He even begged to Karzahni for death. “After two months, my surviving comrade and I managed to escape. We fled for the shore of the Peninsula against out better judgment. We managed to reach the waters, but Ezim and his men were right behind us. They used our tools against us, trying to kill us, but we leapt into the waters, fighting against sure death from the tides, from the waves, from the spiked rocks behind us. We swam for our lives, hoping to get out of range. No matter how far we would need to swim, we would rather swim until we died of fatigue rather than go back. “My last comrade died in the waves. He didn’t have the strength since half of his arm had been cut into. His muscles gave out quickly, and he drowned, leaving only me. I managed to swim to a fishing boat that I found, and was taken back to the Southern Continent. From then on I never thought about Ezim, and only continued my job as a Meiu agent.” “Why is he killing the Meiu, though?” Linke questioned. He could see how shaken Recht was from telling the story, but they needed information. “I guess because two escaped him, and one escaped with his life. I guess he doesn’t want the weapons anymore, he just wants vengeance. Maybe he’s looking for me specifically, and just killing those in his way. I don’t know.” “You know,” Linke said. “He told you, didn’t he?” “When he talked to me yesterday... he mentioned he misses torturing me. He misses my screams, he misses the screams of my two comrades, but they’re both dead. He wants to hear me scream again before I die. Then he left. That’s it.” “Why didn’t he kill you last night?” Linke questioned. “I... I don’t know,” Recht said, slumping to the ground. “Linke... I’m scared. I renounce my old allegiance, I told you that. It’s because of him.” “Will it do you any good?” Linke questioned. He shook his head. “I doubt it.” “Is there anything else you have to say?” Linke questioned. Recht didn’t say anything. He just sat there. Linke crouched by him. “Stay hidden in the studio. I’m going to take this information to Gahla and the others.” Recht slowly nodded, just sitting behind the desk, on the floor. Linke rose. He didn’t want to leave Recht, but he couldn’t bring Recht with him, not like this. He was sure Recht could go on on his own. He ran to the door and ran down the streets, heading towards the station. “That was a beautiful sunrise for such a terrible day,” Gahla told Linke as the two walked towards the store. Gahla didn’t want to run. She had chased a criminal the other day and had twisted her ankle, making her unable to run. She could walk just fine, however. “I know,” Linke replied. “It’s just opposite of what we need.” “Linke... you’re not telling me everything,” the Ga-Matoran told him. He turned to her. “Recht’s scared,” Linke said. “Well, of course he is!” Gahla exclaimed. “Someone is after his life! Anyone would be scared.” “No, you don’t get it,” Linke said. “I’ve never seen Recht scared before. Not even when I met him, when he was summoned by Epee. I was scared out of my mind during the whole event, during everything that happened. But Recht was never once scared. He was always confident, he always was sure of what he was doing, because of the Duos Stone, and he was Meiu. I can’t say the same for myself. But this morning... he was scared. He was frightened to such a state that he couldn’t move. He told me about his past... how he and two fellow Meiu agents were tortured by Ezim. Tortured in such unimaginable ways it would make you hurt just thinking about it.” “Torture?” Gahla gasped. “How long?” “Two months,” Linke replied. “And in such terrible pain. Ezim even told Recht last night that he wants to hear Recht’s screams again, and the screams of the others... if they were alive.” “You said Ezim controls an entire village. And surely, more by now. Why would he leave it all and go on a killing spree?” Gahla questioned. “I don’t know,” Linke said. “Recht might, but he’s not talking. I guess Ezim just got so angry at Recht’s group that he decided he should finally take revenge.” “And he’s doing a good job, so far,” Gahla said. “Except not on the object of his desire.” “I know. And for that, Recht has to stay safe. He has to stay alive, no matter what.” “You think you can protect him?” Gahla asked. “I hope so,” Linke replied. “And we have the Duos Stones if all else fails.” “What if Ezim has some Meiu weapon?” Gahla questioned. “We can assume that everything was done by a simple knife or dagger,” Linke answered. “The medical examinations show that, don’t they?” “They do,” Gahla admitted. As they entered the shop, Linke could see that the door to Recht’s studio was open. He shouted and ran for the door, leaving Gahla to struggle on her own after him. He hurdled the desk and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping over himself as he ran. Once he reached the bottom he looked around. There was no one around. But on the counter was Recht’s Duos Stone and the artificial half that held Stone powers. Gahla struggled down and looked around with him. “You don’t think...?” “No. He can’t be dead,” Linke said. He rushed forward and found the briefcase that was locked up the day before, that Recht was looking at when he had interrupted the Le-Matoran. He snapped it open, but there was nothing inside. “What was in it?” Gahla questioned. “I don’t know,” Linke answered. There was no indentation to give anything away. Whatever was inside just sat there. “But I think Recht went to finish things. I think he went to confront Ezim on his own.” It was midday as Recht reached the center of the island, the mountain range that split the island between the civilized Matoran half, and the heavily forested, Rahi half. There were trees coming across the mountains, making the civilized half fairly thick yet at the base. Standing in the shade of trees was the figure of Ezim, watching as Recht approached him. Smoke was around Ezim and the remains of a fire were behind him. He had camped here, evidently. “You came,” Ezim said. “I can hear your screams now.” “No, no you won’t,” Recht said. “Because the police know where you are. You won’t get out of here.” “I have to be leaving anyway,” Ezim said. “Because if you got the police, I don’t want to fight through them. I wouldn’t be able to deal with all of them. And I have other targets. Targets that I want to kill before I hear your screams again. I want to compare the sounds before I decide when you should die.” “You tortured everyone before you killed them, didn’t you?” Recht demanded. “Of course I did. That’s how I compare the screams. If they are better than you three, then I keep them alive for a time. If not, I kill them. I need more comparisons before I come back for you,” Ezim told him. He turned to the shore, about half an hour’s walk away, “Goodbye, Recht. Until the next we meet, and you’re once more my prisoner.” “What makes you think you can leave?” Recht questioned. “You’re not the killing type,” Ezim said. “As I torture, I know. I know the people I torture through their screams, through what they shout. And I know that you’re not one to kill. You care about life too much to kill someone. And I’m sure the police – if they’re coming at all – are too far behind. They would catch me eventually, but it’s not worth it right now. Not yet. So I’ll go, and come back later. And you’ll never have me killed. You’re too much of a Meiu, too much of a preserver of a Matoran’s life. That’s why you’re weak, Recht. You care too much.” Ezim began to walk again, kicking the remains of the fire as he walked. “Ezim!” Recht shouted. Ezim turned around, smoke again curling around his body. “Yes?” he questioned. Recht looked through the tree cover, into the blocked sky. He was trying to think of what he should say, but nothing would come. He looked down, knowing what he needed to ask Ezim. It was an important question for such a beautiful day. “Did you see the sunrise this morning?” Recht asked. Ezim almost laughed, but didn’t. He looked up as well, and then back down, taking the question seriously. “Of course I did. It was beautiful.” He truly meant it. “Why do you ask?” Recht pulled a small, golden-ended handgun from his belt, aimed, and fired his single elemental shot into Ezim’s head.

Day Twenty-Five
“Anything new?” Cenrik questioned the Onu-Matoran as he walked in. Derr looked to him, leaning his feet on Derr’s desk. The look he gave – even behind a Kanohi mask – told Cenrik to take them off. The Po-Matoran quickly complied. “Yes. Two new orders of business, actually,” Derr told his second Junior Detective partner. He laid out two slabs of stone on the desk. “Both of them are very interesting cases.” Gahla and Linke were also in the room. They walked over to look at the tablets. Cenrik leaned forward, taking another look at them. “The first report is that a corpse has been discovered to the east,” Derr told them. “By the mountain that separates us from the Rahi.” He showed them a picture carved at the bottom. It was a rough composite sketch of the body. The head was noticeably disfigured, as if a corner had been completely blown out by some powerful attack. “Do we have any identification on this guy?” Cenrik asked. “Or any clues as to a killer? Or what could have even done something like this?” “It could have been a Nui-Jaga,” Gahla put in. “The stinger could have probably made that hole.” “It’s a rough sketch, but the hole is properly proportioned,” Derr said. “The stinger of a Nui-Jaga would take more of the head out.” “Well... maybe some form of anomaly among the Jaga,” Gahla suggested. “Something to create a smaller stinger tail...” “No,” Derr told her, “It wasn’t a physical object. Karok can already tell that much. It was something like an energy blast, he figures.” “An energy blast?” Cenrik questioned. “What could cause an energy blast? Was it a Dark Hunter?” “That’s the thing,” Derr said. “The corpse is of Ezim, the Meiu killer.” “Ezim?” Gahla questioned, pressing forward. “Are you certain? Are you sure that someone took care of him?” “We are,” Derr said. “All of our information points towards this being him. Matoran of Anger, same Kanohi. The thing is, even if it was a decoy corpse, where would he get another Cu-Matoran, or get whatever could create such a wound? And the armor is natural. It’s not like it was forced onto another body. It’s Ezim.” “How did you find the corpse?” Linke questioned. “Someone left a message here, at the station. A few officers went out to check it out, and sure enough, just as the message said, there was the corpse. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve been told,” Derr explained. “I don’t understand,” Linke said. “Quey apparently, in another version of the story, was the one to tell the others where the corpse was, and headed out with other police to confirm this fact. So one version is of a message telling us, one is that Quey came with the knowledge,” Derr told them. “So... could Quey have been the one who killed Ezim?” Cenrik questioned. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility, except for the wound,” Derr told him. “The wound is the only problem.” “Right. How would he create such a wound...” Cenrik muttered. Linke needed to throw something out. He needed to prompt another option, since no one else was throwing it out. He knew it might be bad to throw out, might bring bad publicity, but it needed to be said. “It could have been the Toa,” Linke said. “The Toa...” Derr muttered. “He would have murdered a killer. It seems like something he would do... but then again, how would he know for a fact about Ezim?” “Let’s just assume he knows,” Gahla said. “And let’s assume it was him. He did a great service to us.” “I guess,” Derr said, shrugging. “Anyway, what’s done is done. The police are currently out looking for whoever killed Ezim, and any clues. They have two detectives with them, at least. Now, we have an assignment.” He directed them to the second slab. “We got a Ka-Matoran on drug charges.” “Drugs?” Linke questioned. “Ethanum and Ambrosil?” “Yeah,” Derr said. “And not just any Ka-Matoran. We got the Matoran of Spirits named Phasm. If you recall, it was his art gallery that had the underground parlor that we investigated while searching for the ‘Ghost’.” “So, Phasm is connected to this,” Gahla muttered. “Was he just dealing? Or was he using? Or what, Derr?” “He was dealing,” Derr said. “I’m heading in to question him right now. You three come with me. Recht, I’m counting on you to try to pick up anything off of him.” Linke nodded. “No problem. I’ll watch his body language.” “Good. Come on,” Derr led them out of the room, towards a holding room to interrogate the white and blue armored Matoran who wore a Kanohi Iden, living up to his name and elemental affinity. Phasm was in handcuffs, sitting facing towards the door. As Derr and Linke walked in – the other two in a side room, watching through a one way window – Phasm stared at them, but mostly at Linke. “Recht... what’s Recht doing here?” he questioned, pressing for answers. “Recht is a consultant,” Derr said. “He’s proven very useful in the past. He’s here to observe this interrogation. Now, Phasm. You were brought in on the charge of dealing drugs on Doppel Nui. Drugs are forbidden here. Used, but forbidden. If you comply with us, you’ll get a better sentence than you normally would have.” “Comply. How?” Phasm questioned. “Give up a list of clients, a list of users on the island. We’ll take care of them, and you’ll get a lenient sentence. Also, give up any suppliers and accomplices,” Derr told him. “You’re after the ‘Ghost’, aren’t you?” Phasm questioned. “Of course we are. If you can give him to us, you’ll be pardoned of your crimes. We want him that badly,” Derr said. “Now, can you give us any information?” Linke watched intently. He was waiting for anything, any shift in posture, any movement of the eyes. Anything to betray what Phasm was thinking. “He’s calm,” Linke said aloud. “I think he’s on it right now.” Linke was trying a plan. He was trying to unnerve Phasm. He wasn’t sure if the Matoran was using or not. He hoped that the accusation could either bring out fear, shock, or any reaction that could prove if he was indeed using or not at the moment, and hopefully open him to further reading as it went on. Nothing happened. Phasm sat there. There was little doubt now that he was using, or he was an incredible manipulator, and able to work against Linke’s brilliant mind. “Now, give us information, or go to prison,” Derr hissed, leaning forward. “The option is yours, Phasm.” “You want the ‘Ghost’,” Phasm said. He leaned forward to whisper to Derr. “You’ll never find him. He’s somewhere you would never find him.” “Where?” Derr demanded, clenching his fists. “I won’t tell you,” Phasm chuckled. “You’d better tell me,” Derr hissed. “If you don’t, then things will only get worse for you.” Phasm sat back, laughing to himself. “You’ll never find the ‘Ghost’.” Derr looked to the mirror, the one way mirror. “Get some officers in here; have him dragged off to prison. He’ll serve time for a while. Maybe some time there will get him to talk.” After about half a minute, two officers walked into the room, fully armed with their daggers and spears. They yanked Phasm to his feet and pulled him out of the room, towards the holding cells. Derr turned to Linke. “Recht... were you serious? Was he using?” Derr questioned. “I don’t know,” Linke admitted. “I was hoping that my accusation would get him to reveal something. If he was or not. But nothing happened. I don’t know.” “He’s good,” Derr said, walking out. Linke stepped to his side, following him. “Yeah. He’s really good. I think he’s not just some dealer. I think he knows more about the ‘Ghost’ and the entire operation than an ordinary dealer would.” Derr nodded. “That’s for sure. We’ll get him to talk, no matter what.” Linke stopped and looked to the nearby door. He looked to the Onu-Matoran. “I’m going to leave, okay?” Derr nodded. “Yeah, sure. We don’t need you around right now for anything. You can go, come back tomorrow if you want.” Linke nodded. “Thanks. I’ll probably see you tomorrow then.” He turned and walked to the door, walking out and heading back towards his studio. Ezim was dead, and he needed to question Recht. “I killed Ezim,” Recht confirmed. He turned to the stairs as Linke reached the bottom step. “I assume that’s what you’re here to ask me.” “It is,” Linke replied. “How did you kill him? What was that?” “That briefcase held a firearm. Only someone destined to become a Toa can use it. The raw power of a Toa, the innate elemental energy within a Matoran flows through the weapon and fires a single elemental bullet. It destroys the weapon, but it serves its’ purpose with enough power. I had one from the Meiu, from when I first arrived on this island. I used it to kill Ezim before he could kill anyone else,” Recht said, as if it were nothing. As if murder was nothing. As if killing – which he hated – was nothing. “Okay. But you could have come to me,” Linke said. His simple answer showed that he was fine with what Recht had done. He understood Recht’s situation, and knew that killing Ezim was the best thing Recht could do. “Linke,” Recht said, walking towards him. He pointed to a table next to the two of them. “Your Duos Stone is sitting there, along with the Ice stone.” Linke nodded. “Okay. What about it?” “I’ve questioned it for a long time. Since we met, I’ve questioned it. I’ve questioned the fact that we’re a team.” “I don’t understand,” Linke said. “Explain this to me.” “I’ve questioned if you’re a worthy partner,” Recht said, simply. “And I’ve come up with the answer that, ‘No, you are not.’” “What?!” Linke shouted. “All those battles, all those challenges, al–“ “You see,” Recht began. “You were the only choice at the time. There was no one else to give the other half of the Duos Stone to. Only you. So I chose you. But now, as of late, I’ve questioned it once again. And now, I’ve come to a conclusion. You are not fit to be my partner. You’re more committed to solving crime than to this partnership, to what we stand for. To what the Meiu made me stand as.” “Recht! How can you say this?” Linke shouted in outrage. “I can change! How can you possibly strip me of my position?” “I asked you once, and you said no,” Recht said. “Asked me what?!” Linke shouted. “If you could feel the elemental power within the Stones,” Recht said. “And you said you couldn’t. I could – can – feel the power inside of them. And do you know what that means?” “No,” Linke said. “I used the firearm, which means I’m destined to become a Toa. I have that power within me. And because of that, since I can feel the power inside of the Duos Stones, that’s another sign that I’m destined to be a Toa someday – a proper Toa, mind you. And because you can’t feel the powers, that means you aren’t destined. You’re holding me back.” “So you want someone who will become a Toa someday,” Linke said. “Good luck with that. And when you fail in that quest, I’ll be right here, waiting.” “I’ve already found somebody,” Recht told him. “Someone else destined to become a Toa. Someone else who can feel the energy. Someone I can trust to do the job, and be devoted to it alone.” “Who?” Linke demanded. He saw movement in the corner of the room. The corner held a small room which had Recht’s sleeping quarters and various supplies, if needed. As the figure stepped into the light of the main room, Linke was shocked. “Recht... or should I only refer to you now as your normal name, ‘Linke’?” Quey questioned. “What do you prefer at the precinct?” “Recht,” Linke hissed in answer. He turned to the real Recht. “Recht, how could you do this? Quey is the police lieutenant! He’s an enemy to the Toa!” “No,” Recht said, walking towards the Ki-Matoran. “He’s a believer in justice. He believes in the cause, now that he knows the entirety of the situation. Of the Duos Stones. He’s fully committed to helping me to keep peace here. To protect the island as we were supposed to be doing.” “As lieutenant, I don’t need to be at the precinct,” Quey said. “I have so many officers to do that job. I barely have to do anything. I can be the perfect partner to Recht, that means. I can be the perfect power for the Toa. Air, Crystal, Stone, and Ice. Crystal is a much better power than Fire, Linke.” “Go,” Recht said. “You can still stay here, of course. You own this building. And I’ll be staying down here, as always. And you must still act as a front for me, if you don’t want people to question why the great Recht is no longer working. But as far as I’m concerned, go and be a proper detective, or officer, or whatever. You’re no longer a Toa.” Linke glared at the two of them. The two smug Matoran. He always knew that Quey, from the moment they met, was a smug man who he didn’t care to ever see again in his life. He knew Quey as someone who was a commander – one who liked to command – not necessarily one who was good at it. He always knew Recht to be one who followed his duty, and who followed wherever his boredom left him – his work, his carving. Combining the two into a single dual-elemental Toa actually made sense to Linke. Their personalities seemed to fit together fairly well. And Quey’s experience – without a Trard – would still keep the skills of the Toa at their peak. “Fine,” Linke muttered. “I’ll go. I’ll go and join the police properly.” He walked to the stairs. “But Quey, we never speak of this at the station.” “Agreed,” Quey answered. Linke looked back, looking at his former partner. The man he had fought side-by-side with for the past year. Whom he had put his life into the hands of, and vice-versa. Now he was just being discarded. “Recht. If you ever need me... forget it,” Linke hissed, walking upstairs.

Day Twenty-Six
Linke’s life was in a tumultuous position at the moment. He had been serving as part of a dual-elemental Toa – making up and fighting as half of a Toa – a hero, a protector to the island, whether they wanted the Toa or not. Now, it was in tumult. He had been wrapped up in a police investigation nearly a month ago. He had been arrested for the murder of a Matoran, and only because of his partner, the enigmatic Meiu agent, Recht, had Junior Detective Gahla, whom he had heard of as a new, hotshot detective, freed him, knowing him not to be the murderer after all. Recht had appeared on the Isle of Doppel Nui one year ago, at the same time as Linke. Even on the same day, though on two different boats. Linke was traveling, looking for someplace to settle down, to be a merchant. That’s what his profession of choice was at the time. He knew that he could try to become a member of the secret police of the island, but that would take some time. He decided that being a merchant would be a good use of his time until then. He had been trained by an amazing instructor by the name of Tezka. Tezka was renowned in the Southern Continent for his abilities. He had trained in the Southern Islands for much of his life, and had perfected a style of combat. Linke had persuaded him to teach it to him, and Tezka had eventually accepted, and taught Linke his fighting style. That being said, Linke was an amazing combatant. He needed no weapon to defeat an armed opponent. A larger opponent. A stronger opponent. A faster opponent. He knew how to deal with them all thanks to Tezka. Then he had had a run-in with Recht. When things got bad, Recht was forced to give half of the Duos Stone to Linke, who had accepted it so he could live. The two of them became a single Toa, and with their twin Kanohi Trard, and Linke’s skills, as well as Recht’s skills – not that he liked to show them off – they were able to overcome the threat. From that day on, they had been partners. The incident of their meeting had created a Toa to protect Doppel Nui from threats that the police couldn’t handle. Now, it was all over. With Recht taking Quey as his new partner, that left Linke out of it. Linke was now on his own, no longer a Toa. No longer a powerful being who was justice unto himself for the sake of the island. He was just a Ta-Matoran who worked as a consultant detective. He was no more important than the other detectives, the other police officers. He no longer had a position of absolute power, power that could help to hold the island together. And now, especially with the fleet of Dark Hunters laying siege to the island, he was needed more than ever as a Toa. He was sure that Recht and Quey could handle it, given time. But Linke had known Recht for the past year. For that year, they had trained together, lived together, fought together. They had been one so many times that neither could count them. They knew each other; they knew how each other thought, fought, moved... Quey would be a good partner – he was destined to be a Toa, just like Recht was – but there may not be time for them to become one. For them to learn to fight together. Merging into the single Toa took time to learn how to control. Recht had to control the entire right side, while Quey would have to control the entire left. Their unity would have to be perfect to even walk properly. One side could take over the other side if need be, but that wasn’t up for discussion. The other side would instantly know because of the mental link they had, and would instantly comply, as if automatically. This was a given, but one under special circumstances. The Kanohi Trard – Great Mask of Skill – which both Linke and Recht wore, allowed them to be in perfect unity from the first moment they merged with the Duos Stones. Quey wore no such Kanohi, and as such, would be lagging behind Recht, who still had his Trard. The island would be in danger. The Toa would be next to useless if the threat was too great. Linke could only hope that he would be in the vicinity and able to pick up where Quey left off, should the Toa fail, and Recht be alive, the Stones intact. Linke stopped his thinking and lifted his head from the desk. He looked to the door, at Derr walking in. Once he saw Linke, he frowned and moved forward. “That’s my desk,” Derr told him. “Find somewhere else to sleep.” “I’m sorry,” Linke said as he rose to his feet. “I was actually here because a while back, when Cenrik and I first met, he offered me a job.” “He did?” Derr questioned. Linke nodded. “As an actual detective. And I just wanted to come to say... I’ll take the job, if it’s still on the table.” “What about your art?” Derr questioned. “I’ve thought long and hard on it. I want to do good for the island, not just beauty,” Linke said. “I’ll still do art, but to a lesser extent. My mind is more suitable for doing good, for being a detective.” “I don’t know if you can become a detective, even with your credentials,” Derr told him. “It’s a long path, after all.” “You did it so quickly,” Linke complained. “So did Gahla and Cenrik!” “I was around before them. I had a spot in the secret police,” Derr told him. “Gahla and Cenrik both joined after the reform. Things have changed. There are multiple psychological exams, tests, and more for you to go through. As the days go by, it gets more complicated to become a detective.” “Then give me everything,” Linke said. “Every test, everything. I want to do this.” “I can’t do that,” Derr said. “Not right now, anyway.” “Why? What’s happening that you can’t?” Linke questioned. “We have a client,” he said. Linke was confused. “‘Client’ doesn’t sound like the right word to use.” “I know, but she’s a client,” Derr said. “Please, explain this one to me,” Linke said. “She needs protection. She says there are bodyguards that she could hire if she wanted to, who would be with her at all times. But then she said that she’d rather have someone who is qualified for the job, and has proof of qualification. She chose public security, rather than private. She chose the Doppel Nui Guard,” Derr explained. “And who is this woman?” Linke questioned. “She’s a Ce-Matoran who came here through a crack in the lines,” Derr said. “She’s visiting.” “Another crack in the lines?” Linke questioned. “Those Dark Hunters are getting sloppy.” “They’re in a war,” Derr reminded. “I’m sure they can’t just focus on laying siege to an island like Doppel Nui with enough manpower.” Linke nodded. “True. Now, please. Go on.” “Right. Well, she’s here to see Marchia and to help establish trade routes between Doppel Nui and the Southern Continent, some cities on the south end of it, some port cities. She’s trying to find what we have to offer,” Derr told him. “Is it just with Doppel Nui?” Linke questioned. “Or the entire Dome of Mashau Nui?” “Just Doppel Nui,” Derr replied. “That’s because of our smaller size and less options for what we can do. They want to help us, and Marchia has decided to accept their assistance.” Linke nodded. “Okay, now, why does she need security?” “She fears that someone is after her life,” Derr said. “And we’ve heard things. We have people on the street, blending in. Mostly, they’re after the ‘Ghost’. But we’ve been hearing about possible assassination attempts on our guest, who, by the way, is named Isha.” Linke nodded. “Okay. So, she’s chosen the police as her guards. Does this include detectives to look for the assassins?” “No,” Derr replied. “Not until we have confirmation on any threat to her life.” “Derr... what can I do?” Linke questioned. “Until we have time to get you as a detective, become an officer,” Derr said. “It’s not as hard. You just have to have a knowledge of the laws, be able to pass some physical tests, and you’re pretty much set. Go see Chief Layef for more information.” Linke nodded. “Derr, when I become an officer – because there’s no doubt I will pass these tests, and later, the detective tests – I want to be one of Isha’s guards.” “No problem,” Derr replied. “I’ll make it happen.” Linke nodded his thanks and ran off. The Turaga of Fire listened to Linke’s reasoning for wanting to join properly. He was bored of his art, and wanted something else to do. He wanted to properly bring justice to the island. And until he had time to be given the detective tests, he wanted to become an officer, and be one of Isha’s guards. “Very well,” Layef said. “I’ll see to your examinations. And I’ll also be sure to tell Isha that her guard is chosen.” “Just one guard?” Linke questioned. “That’s all she should need with someone of your skill, Recht,” Layef said. Linke nodded. “I guess you’re right.” Layef looked at a tablet on his desk. “I know you have a knowledge of the laws of the island. I know you’re skilled-you were able to defeat Halen, even though she was transforming into a living weapon. Now, I just need to know if you know the proper regulations of the police.” “Chief, I’ve been around here for almost a month,” Linke said. “I’ve done business with police and detectives in the past. I spend most of my time here, helping with crime. I think I know the regulations and procedures that come with being an officer.” “You should know them,” Layef agreed. “I’m going to trust that you do. I really just don’t want to administer these pointless questions to someone like you, Recht. Welcome to the police force.” Linke shook Layef’s hand. “I’m happy to be here, Chief.” “Now, Isha is waiting in the main lobby. And the meeting will be happening shortly. Go meet her, and get going.” Linke nodded. “Will do, Sir.” Linke rose and walked out of Chief Layef’s office. He walked into the lobby of the station, and then realized he had no robes, no badge, nothing. He had no way to show that he was an officer now. He decided not to go back. Most of the officers and detectives knew who he was. He should be fine. He saw the blue and gold armored Matoran sitting in the lobby, alone. He ran over and stopped in front of her. “Isha?” he asked her. She looked up. She wore a deep blue Kanohi Huna, “Yes?” “My name is Recht. I’m the officer assigned to protect you,” Linke said, holding his hand out. She took it and shook his hand. “Recht... I’ve heard that name before.” “I get that a lot,” he said. “But that’s because a lot of people actually know who I am. I don’t know if you do.” “You’re the famous sculptor!” she exclaimed. “I know of your work, along with many others from the island.” “You do, do you?” he asked. She nodded. “That’s what we’re here for. Trading supplies for art, if need be,” she told him. “So I did my research, and I learned about you.” “Glad to know my reputation spreads out farther than just Doppel Nui,” he told her. “So, are you an officer now?” she questioned. “I was a consultant detective, but until I can become a proper detective, I’m an officer,” he said. “I’m doing less art these days, and wanted to do justice.” She nodded. “That’s a very good career choice, I think. But are you the best choice for my guard?” she looked over his body. “You don’t have any designation nor any weapons on you.” “The designation... I know. I just became an officer before I found you. I guess that doesn’t matter for now. And I don’t use weapons.” “Don’t use weapons?” she questioned. “How can you not use weapons if you’re an officer?” “I was trained by one of the greatest Matoran combatants in the universe,” he replied. “Tezka.” “Tezka!” she exclaimed. “He trained you?” The two moved through the streets which were fairly busy for the time of day. Linke nodded. “Yeah, he was my teacher. After some persuasion, he finally taught me his style.” “That’s great! I feel completely safe with you, Recht.” “You trust Tezka’s abilities that much?” Linke questioned. “I trust his techniques,” she replied. “So yes.” As they walked, the crowds became less and less. Eventually there were only two or three other Matoran around on each block. “Only a few more minutes,” he said. “We’ll be at the city hall then.” As the turned around another corner, someone stepped out of the building. He turned the corner after them, drawing a dagger from his belt. “Don’t panic,” Linke whispered. He spun around, but the figure was gone. “What?” he muttered. He heard a shout, and turned around. The man was gone, but two more Matoran were grabbing Isha, pulling her away, binding her arms and legs with rope. “Isha!” Linke shouted, running at the men. He leapt forward, kicking one of them to the ground. He spun around, going for a kick at the other’s chest. This one was fast. He pushed Isha back and dodged back himself. He drew a dagger from his belt and leapt forward, slashing, but he missed as Linke dodged back. He threw a punch as hard as he could, striking Linke square in the face. Linke hit the ground hard and stayed down. “Recht!” Isha screamed. “Someone, help me!” The Matoran struck her, keeping her quiet. He carried her off as Linke pushed himself back to his feet. He shouted her name, and tried to run after her, but found that his legs didn’t want to work properly. The blow had really rattled him. He saw the downed Matoran and grabbed him by the shoulders. He propped him up against a building and shook him a few times. The Matoran’s eyes finally came to life. He looked at Linke. “What?” the Matoran hissed. “Don’t ‘what’ me!” Linke shouted. “Where is Isha being taken? Tell me or die!” He took the dagger and held it to the Matoran’s throat. “What’s your motive?” he demanded. “Kill me,” the Matoran hissed. “I won’t tell you where she is.” “What’s your motive?” Linke demanded, trying to get any information he could. “Our group – cult, as some call it, even on the inside – is going to sacrifice the Ce-Matoran,” the Matoran said. “Then our dark Master will awaken once she’s sacrificed on the morrow!” Linke slammed him into the wall, smashing the head into it, knocking him unconscious. He let the body slip to the ground and then ran, searching for any backup he could find.

Day Twenty-Seven
“Today’s the day that the Matoran said Isha would be sacrificed,” Layef said. “Recht, you were supposed to protect her, and we’re almost out of time!” “I did my best,” Linke hissed. “I tried, okay? I tried.” “You didn’t try hard enough,” the Chief hissed. “Now go! Go and find her.” Linke pushed himself out of the chair and walked out. He then left the station. He knew that there were many officers searching, as well as detectives. He wasn’t needed to search. He had something else to do. He stood at the window of the main room of his store. He looked outside, into an alley that was mostly hidden from the street. He watched as Quey and Recht sparred with each other, learning each other’s styles, fighting moves, preferred attacks. Anything that would help each other later. Recht was pretty good on his own, even without the Trard when he became a Toa. He had skills from being a Meiu agent, and from being tortured by Ezim. But Quey had greater skills. He led the entirety of the police force, with only Chief Layef above him. He, being second-in-command, as a lieutenant, had to have incredible fighting skills. They would be amazing together, Linke was sure. “Do me proud... Quey...” Linke muttered about his replacement. “You had better make Recht proud. He chose you... make him proud.” He walked to the desk and sat down. He gazed at the door. He knew there were requests, but he couldn’t give any to Recht. He didn’t even like looking at his former partner anymore. He couldn’t speak a word to him, not while trying to fight down his outrage at being replaced, his anger, his animosity. He had to let Recht and Quey be their own duo, and not say or do anything to or for either one of them. He had to let them be autonomous, without his shadow hanging behind them. He had a job to do. He had to do it. He knew the other police were out looking, but he had to do his part. He wasn’t an officer, but rather, more of a detective. He could use his skills to find her. He had to! She was taken from his custody. His honor was scratched, his job on the line, and the life of an innocent Matoran also on the line, in desperate peril. “I need to find her,” he hissed. “I can’t allow her to die on my watch.” He focused, trying to think of the details of the day before. The Matoran he had brought down was being interrogated. Any information he would give through the legal means would be of vital importance. Legal means were sure not to work, however. Linke was sure of that. The Matoran had told Linke to kill him. He wasn’t going to get any information from the man, so he was supposed to be silenced. He was also part of a cult, a dark sect which wouldn’t speak. He would hold his tongue. He wasn’t just talking big. Linke knew they wouldn’t get anything out of him. They could torture him, and get the information that way, but they wouldn’t. Legally they couldn’t. Even if they did it illegally, the station would become corrupt and be brought down by Marchia. Then the main defense of the island would be gone. Only the Toa would remain. And Recht and Quey would be that Toa. If they got the information, then Linke would have no place in protecting the island anymore. The police would be gone due to corruption, and he wasn’t part of the Toa. It was a terrible situation. He could go and torture him himself to get the information, without the police knowing about it, but how could he do that? He didn’t even know how to properly torture someone. Recht might, since he was tortured. However, Quey would be likely to learn of this, and as lieutenant of the police, he would stop Recht, or Linke, or whoever they got to do the torture. Linke would give himself to save Isha. He would give his freedom, his career, anything to save her. If only he knew how to extract the information, that was. He had to find her before he could give himself to save her. He ran out of the store, towards the station. He had to go over any clues that had the potential to exist. Those clues were the Matoran prisoner, and him alone. “I won’t speak,” the Onu-Matoran said. “You will,” Linke said, leaning over the table. “No, I won’t,” the Matoran reiterated. “You will, or else,” Linke threatened. “Or else what?” the Matoran demanded. “Will you kill me? I already asked you to. Torture? I won’t break.” Well, that killed the option. But Linke wasn’t going to use it anyway. “No. You see, I know how to get you to talk,” Linke said, pulling a pouch from his belt and setting it on the table. “What’s inside?” the Matoran demanded. “Widgets,” Linke replied. “A bribe?” the Matoran questioned. “Why would I need money?” “Okay, it’s not a bag of widgets,” Linke said, opening the bag. “Rather, it’s this.” He pulled the item free. It was just a slab of stone, that was it. “I don’t understand,” the Matoran said. “You told me that you believe in a dark power reviving upon the sacrifice of Isha.” Linke said. “You believe in darkness. I don’t think that’s standard, evil darkness. I think you believe in something that you want to rise up and send the entire universe into eternal suffering and misery. Not Makuta, but rather, something more evil. Something spiritual, beyond our very existence. Is that right?” “So far,” the Matoran said. “Good,” he said, pushing the slab forward. “You see, I had to carve something majestic for the opening of the city hall a while back,” Linke explained. “And I was sent special marble from a quarry on Angelus Nui. Now, that marble was blessed by the four Seraphim. They are the greatest defenders of that island. That island of majesty, of belief, of light, and of faith. They are on the forefront of defending such faith and actions with their light of majesty. They seem to be the opposite of what you stand for, Matoran, your entire cult is opposite of the Seraphim and Angelus Nui. “Now, what would happen if you touched this stone?” Linke questioned, grinning, pushing it forward. “If I touch you... will you burn?” The Matoran scooted back. “No! Don’t touch me with it!” Linke was thankful that it was working. He was also thankful that Recht had some scraps left, and was mistaken when he had told Linke earlier that none remained. He had managed to find small bits and pieces, and had managed to smelt them together through a miracle of guessing the process. He put the pieces together and started to use heat to fuse the sides, making it as smooth and as much of a small pillar as possible. He guessed a pillar might be best. It might represent reaching into the light. It was only about the length of his elbow to his wrist, and it was hollow on the inside. It was a good bluff, and one that was working. “Okay... don’t touch me,” the Matoran sighed. “What do you want to know?” “Where are they holding Isha?” Linke demanded. “Where is your base? I need to rescue her!” “I can’t betray them,” the Matoran said. “I can’t betray my comrades! My beliefs!” “You believe in darkness, and you’ll be touched by the light,” Linke said, grabbing the stone and pushing it forward. The Matoran backed away in fear, actually falling to the ground out of his chair. “Okay!” he screamed. “Good,” Linke said. “Now, cooperate and tell me where to go.” “Okay, they’re on the southern coast,” he said, “We have a building on the southern coast, just about seven blocks inland of the ocean. The building is marked with an ‘X’ across the side. It looks dilapidated; looks like it should be knocked down. But that’s it. I swear!” “How long until the sacrifice?” Linke demanded. “About an hour,” he said. “You’ll have to hurry.” Linke rose. “Thanks for the information. I’ll be going to rescue her now.” “Wait!” “What?” “You’ll keep that stone away? And I’ll get a reduced sentence?” “I’ll keep the stone away,” Linke promised. “And I’ll see what I can do about your sentencing.” “Thank you,” the Matoran said as Linke walked out. “Whatever,” Linke muttered, leaving him alone in the room. Linke and Cenrik rode hard on tamed Muaka steeds. They were taken through back streets, so as to avoid startling the Matoran populace, as well as avoiding anyone possibly tipping off the cult of their approach. “Was it smart? Just you and me?” Cenrik questioned. “You asking why I didn’t bring others?” Linke questioned. Cenrik nodded. “Yeah!” “I trust in you,” Linke said. “I know we can do it! And I need to redeem myself. I know you’re dedicated to helping me. I know you and I can do this!” “Thanks for believing in me,” Cenrik said, nodding to Linke’s words. “How much farther?” “Seven blocks in,” Linke said. “Where’s the coast?” “A few minutes away,” Cenrik answered. “If it’s seven blocks in, we’ll stop in two minutes and search the immediate area.” “We’ll have to dismount,” Linke said. “They’ll see us coming on Rahi,” Cenrik agreed with a nod. The two slowed their Rahi steeds to a stop. Linke dropped down and took the reins around the Muaka, tying it off to a building. He judged the support he tied it to would be strong enough, unless the Rahi was spooked. It was trained well enough not to run off just because there was no rider around, and smart enough not to take a stranger as a rider. Cenrik dismounted, doing the same as Linke. He checked his robe, making sure that his dagger was under it, attached to his belt. He looked to Linke, who wore nothing to represent a rank, and carried no weapons. He was going in as he was. That was how he fought, always. Cenrik had heard about how Linke had defeated a Matoran named Halen, who was enhanced through mutations given to her by the Dark Hunters. She had tentacle like appendages from her back, each tipped with a blade. He had easily defeated her with two daggers. Now, scale that down and remove the daggers as a result, Linke was fine. The two crept around the streets, stopping when they saw a large, dilapidated building with an “X” on it. Linke nodded to Cenrik, and both ran, keeping their heads low. Linke pushed his back against the building. There was an old door to his left, a crack opening. Cenrik was on the other side, waiting. One of them would probably be able to get in while the other looked for another opening. They would only want one to go in, in case the door should creak too much with being open for too long. Best to get in as fast as possible. “I’ll head in,” Linke whispered, taking a peek inside. It looked fine. He could see a handful of Matoran up ahead, all in black robes. There were about ten of them. Then he saw Isha strapped to a slab between them, struggling as one was chanting, holding a knife. There were dark designs on the walls around them, and some sort of weapon nearby, a cannon it looked like. Probably to keep intruders out. “The others should be here soon,” Cenrik said. “They were told to come five minutes after us, right?” Linke nodded. He had said it was just the two of them, but he knew numbers would be the deciding factor. He would get in before the police arrived, get Isha, and then let the police to the actual work of bringing them in. He knew that alone he wouldn’t be able to. He and Cenrik also would fail. “Find another entrance,” Linke said, pushing the door silently open. He crept in and ducked behind a box. Cenrik was elsewhere, searching for a way in. He glanced around, seeing them still chanting. He hadn’t been seen yet. He got up and then looked to his feet. He saw an old dagger lying there, probably from some long past ceremony. He picked it up, and crept forward. “Look!” one Matoran shouted. They all turned, seeing Linke creeping for another box. Linke cursed and quickly tried to formulate a plan. He saw them not charging him, but rather, going to the cannon, turning it on him. “Not good,” he muttered, making a mad dash forward. The cannon was higher than Isha, and behind her head. It would fire over the top of her body to get at him. The energy bolt flew forward, forcing Linke to drop. He could feel the energy crackle right over his back, feel the heat of the energy. He rose and continued forward. One tried to get in his way, so a quick punch to the face put him down. Linke rolled forward as another shot was fired. As he came back to his feet, he threw the dagger as straight as he could, plunging it into the cannon, damaging the wiring and controls therein, frying it. He leapt forward as the leader with the dagger slashed at him. He got by the dagger, landing on top of Isha. He rose to his feet and spun around, sweeping a leg out to kick one down. He knew that the leader wouldn’t kill him in such a way to get Isha in the process. His ritual wasn’t complete due to Linke’s intrusion, Linke figured. Linke was about to attack, when someone hit him from behind. He gasped out in pain as he fell, a dagger buried in his lower back. He hit the ground hard, groaning. It hadn’t done any serious damage, anything life threatening, but it hurt. It was immense pain. It wouldn’t allow him to fight again for a day or two, he figured. It wasn’t serious enough to keep him down for more than three days, not with the healers of Doppel Nui. He looked up, watching another draw a dagger. It was an ordinary dagger, not a fancy one, not like the ceremony dagger. This one could kill him, he knew. Linke held his breath and screwed his eyes closed. He prayed that Cenrik would save him, that the Po-Matoran would be right there. He heard the door burst open, and heard the sounds of feet flood the room, then shouting. He looked up, watching Cenrik come in the building, slashing one Matoran in the back to take him down. The police were taking care of the rest. And the leader? He stabbed himself rather than be captured.

Day Twenty-Nine
Linke walked out of the hospital. It had taken two days... well, a day and a half, for him to heal. The wound wasn’t too bad. It hadn’t hit any major tissue or organs. The tissue hurt, but he had been given something to dull the pain. He knew he had redeemed himself. He may have been hot-headed in just rushing in alone like that, but it had worked. He had saved Isha by his quick thinking of getting on the table. He wasn’t sure if Quey would see it that way. Quey had a lot of sway with his position, he knew. He knew Quey could twist it, say it wasn’t a plan, and he could have easily gotten Isha killed by going to her location. But he was sure Quey would be too busy as Recht’s partner to bother. He despised Quey for becoming Recht’s partner, but at least saw the usefulness in it. It would keep his mind away from trying to stop Linke from doing any jobs for the police. They already knew that they each had a different method of justice, different beliefs. He didn’t want to get into a clash with Quey again, and with Recht, he was sure Quey wouldn’t bring it up – he wouldn’t have the time to. He was too busy defending the island to a greater degree than ever before. Linke started to wonder if anything had happened. He was sure he would have heard of any Dark Hunter attacks, or any sightings of the Toa. He wondered if Recht had decided to combine with Quey just to practice yet, or if they were saving it for a real emergency. Linke walked away from the hospital. He was glad to be out of that place. It was the second time he had been there recently, the first being during the aftermath of his game of Uuk-Koi against Unik, and having to leave early to pursue Halen when he put the pieces together, or at least, started to. Now he had nothing to do. He was properly discharged. He figured he would have to get back to work, but didn’t really know what to do. He was in a crossroads. One path led back to Recht, to his position as a Toa. A position he wanted back. A life he wanted back. The other road took him to the station, and the station alone. This road would either make him into a fully fledged detective, or an officer. He desired his old life. Partnership and acting as a correspondent. He didn’t want a proper job with the police. He hadn’t even come to the island to get involved in anything of the sort. But rather, he had come to work as a store manager. He was a trader, and wanted a business. He wanted to run a trading outpost, and to do trading as well, until he got employees. He wanted to be an entrepreneur. One with a challenge. He figured that Doppel Nui would provide him that challenge, making him figure out what to do. Trade supplies for art? For services of artists? He wanted that challenge of pulling together a living. He wanted to know artists; he wanted to have different people to befriend, to just be around. Doppel Nui was that place. It was the place where he could fulfill his wishes. His hopes of success, or crushing failure. That was the challenge he sought in life. To try to carve his own living. To try to do things his own way. But then he had met Recht. And they were thrust into destiny together. His unity was with Recht. His duty was to stay alive and pursue his dream. His destiny became that of a Toa. The Great Spirit must have a sense of humor, Linke decided long ago. He came to do one thing, he was thrust into a situation where the three virtues were tested upon him, put upon him quickly and severely. Breaking any would mean death in most situations that Linke had encountered. And that was one reason he wanted his partnership back. He was breaking his unity, his duty, and his destiny. The virtues, of course, set into place after he had arrived. Maybe he could finally pursue a new set of the virtues. Maybe he should get back to his roots. Maybe he should abandon the police, abandon Recht. Go elsewhere on the island and just work as a trader, as a store owner, like he had always wanted to. But he couldn’t leave his friends, his comrades, behind. He needed to be there, he needed to help them. He needed to help justice thrive on the island. And he had done his fair share of justice dealing. If it hadn’t been for him, then Isha would be dead. No one else would have gotten the information out of the Matoran like he had. No one would have thought fast enough about how to interrupt the ceremony and keep her alive by thrusting her into the action. Without his quick thinking, then Doppel Nui wouldn’t have the trade agreement that Isha had arranged. He had been visited by Cenrik the day before. Cenrik had informed him that Isha had completed the trade arrangements, allowing a new flow of goods into the island from other sources. And that the Dark Hunter blockade was too slack, and they could actually get supplies in and out without worrying too much about it. But the Dark Hunters were still present. They were still waiting for their chance to invade one by one and find the Toa. Linke still wondered why every Dark Hunter out there didn’t invade at once and just force the Toa to fight, and they could kill him. He wondered if it would be a waste of men? Maybe the Toa could slip out? If it was the latter, it wasn’t much of a blockade anyway. He could slip out as it was, probably. Linke hated not knowing. That was another reason he wanted to join with Recht again. Then he would be on the forefront of the knowledge, and he would be able to do something about it. He would find a way to stop any attack. They always had before. When Ekiro had proved too powerful, they used the powers of Stone to bring him down, and Linke had learned about the elemental properties of the Duos Stone, about being able to craft new ones, new powers, to replace the standard Duos Stone. He had created Ice after that. And Ice was the only thing that had helped to stop a potential assassination job by another Dark Hunter. And now Ice was a fully functioning power, according to Recht. They had four elemental powers between them – and still four between Recht and Quey, since they had his powers over Crystal once they would combine. Linke imagined the use of Crystal. He assumed, however, that Fire and Crystal would be more useful than anything that Recht had. Fire being focused through a crystalline weapon would be devastating, Linke was sure. It could function like a cannon, or something similar to that. But that wasn’t how things were. Linke wasn’t going to be part of the unity of the Toa anymore. Not with Quey around. And Quey was powerful; no doubt he would do his job for a long time. Longer than the year that Linke had been doing it. As police lieutenant, Quey had been properly chosen. His strength merited him this job, more than any of Linke’s skills had. Linke was a great fighter. He had learned from who he considered to be the best, but he had no other skills that were useful, other than fighting, and the Trard that he wore. Linke put it out of his mind as he saw the station up ahead. He pushed the doors open, walking in. He nodded to two officers as he walked by, and approached the area the detectives usually met. Gahla looked up, surprised to see him. She rose quickly to her feet, “‘Recht’! I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d be out this soon.” “It was just a minor wound,” he assured her. “Nothing too bad.” “Well, you still got stabbed,” Derr said, standing up from behind his desk. “Maybe you should take some more rest.” Linke shook his head. “I want to get back to work. You can’t keep me from working,” he told them. Derr smiled at his attitude and nodded. “Okat then.” He sat down. “What’s your job? Officer yet?” “I need to go talk to the Chief about that,” Linke told him. “I’m about to do that.” Cenrik walked in as Linke turned around. Cenrik let out a big grin. “Recht! You’re back!” He ran down, clasping his friend’s hand. “I can’t believe it only took a day and a half!” Linke pulled his hand away. He guessed this was Cenrik’s version of a hug, but he didn’t want to hug Linke, which Linke understood, especially with the wound. “I’m strong,” Linke told him. “I recover fast.” “Well...” Cenrik said. “I was hoping to have more time to explain this to you...” “What?” Linke questioned. “Allesendro is missing,” Cenrik replied. A chill shot down Linke’s spine. “Missing?” He remembered Allesendro saying exactly one week ago that he would be dead in a week, that a Dark Hunter would murder him for failing. He feared for his friend. Cenrik nodded. “Yeah... he’s missing. I don’t know what happened, no one does.” “Has there been any Dark Hunter activity?” Linke questioned everyone. Derr nodded. “Yeah... we got a claim earlier this morning that a Dark Hunter was on the island. The Matoran didn’t give us many details, but we believe her.” Linke nodded. “I’m going to go out on patrol,” he said, walking out. He really wanted to go to Recht and Quey. “Aren’t you going to see the Chief?” Gahla questioned. “Later,” Linke said. “I’ll talk to him later. I’m not a proper officer... so I’m just leaving.” “You can’t do that if you do get a proper job here!” Derr shouted as a reminder. “I know!” Linke called back, rushing out. He found Recht and Quey on the move, running through the streets together. Quey had discarded his robes and weapons, only carrying a pouch on his belt. No doubt he held the Duos Stone and perhaps the powers of Ice inside. Linke ran out of a street, getting in front of them, surprising them and himself. “I assume you’ve heard about the Dark Hunter,” he said. “We’re on our way,” Recht told him as they passed. Linke turned on his heel and followed just behind them. “I want to see,” he said, answering the silent questions they had. The group of three Matoran found their location. It was a lush park near the northern edge of the island. They were usually located in the center of the island, near the station. The station could then hit any of the eastern side, the inhabited side. Their middle was the eastern center, not the actual island’s center. The Dark Hunter came stomping out of the forest. He was about the size of a Toa, but far more muscular. He had razor-sharp armor protruding from his shoulders, and draped down his back like some sort of razor sharp cape. He had an armored helmet on instead of a Kanohi mask, and he carried a blade on each wrist. His armor was a mix of black and dark brown with some dark green, for camouflage. “Who are you?” he hissed, his voice booming and distorted from the helmet. Recht and Quey answered by pulling their Stones from their pouches. They stood close to each other, facing the Duos Stones at each other. Energy crackled from between them, forming an arc around the two Matoran, slowly rotating, attempting to pull them into a single being. Quey screamed. Just like Linke screamed. The pain was intense, but as always, Recht never screamed, never made a sound. Then, it stopped. No shockwave of power, but rather, Recht standing there, and Quey on the ground, not moving. Recht looked in shock at the ground, at the unmoving Quey. He looked quickly back to Linke, who was rushing forward. “The pain was too much,” Linke muttered. Recht looked back to Linke. No fear, but rather, hopelessness was in his eyes. “I need you,” he said. “Really?” Linke questioned. “Or will you replace me again?” The Dark Hunter rushed forward, drawing both arms back. “I need you!” Recht begged. Linke ran forward, claiming the Stone from Quey’s dead hand. He held it out, forming the proper axis of power, forming the proper arcs around them, pulling them together. As the Toa formed, the shockwave rippled forward, throwing Quey’s body aside. “I have two new Stones,” Recht said. “Water for me, Earth for you.” “Done?” Linke asked. “Finished today,” Recht answered. Linke nodded the head. “On you?” The pouch that Recht had worn was on the ground, torn free during the fusion. He crouched and pulled a stone free. He looked to Quey. “Grab Earth and change!” They rolled, dodging the attack as it reached them. The Toa spun around, snapping Linke’s fingers at him. A fireball occurred at the snap, flying forward, dazing the Dark Hunter long enough for Linke to find the Stone. He rose, and like Recht, put his new Stone to his chest. The body flickered for a moment, and the Stones changed. The ones inside their bodies were dragged out while the ones outside were pushed in. Recht’s right side was brown, Linke’s left was black. “It’s over,” they said, rushing forward. They spun around, lifting Linke’s leg high, dropping an axe kick on the crown of their opponent’s head. Linke looked down, seeing them standing on a stone pedestal to get the height they needed. They fought well together. Without even having to say anything, the other knew what move to make to accomplish things. They were a fully-automated machine of a fighter. “Let’s end him,” Recht said. “How?” Linke asked. “These two powers go together,” Recht answered. “We combine our powers for a finishing move, just like our standard form.” Linke nodded. “Do it, I’ll follow lead.” Recht had them rush forward, throwing both arms back, but bending them at the elbows. Elemental energies flowed around them as they launched their powers forward. A pillar of stone and one of earth came up, encircling each arm. They crossed the arms into an “X” once they reached their opponent, and slammed them down over their foe’s body, pulverizing him under an avalanche of stone and earth, using the weight and force to crush their enemy. They spun around, the material dropping down, draping over the body, completely ending the threat. Linke threw his arm out, snapping his fingers once more. “Checkmate.” They returned to normal as soon as he had snapped. The pair of Matoran walked forward, claiming the pouches, and then clasped hands. “Good to be back,” Linke told his partner.

Day Forty
Ever since returning to being a Toa alongside Recht, Linke's life had been more normal. He had gotten back onto the proper road in his life. The fork that he wanted to follow.

It had been a while since Quey's death, since he reclaimed his rightfully earned position. Was it rightfully earned? It was. He had put his life on the line so many times for Recht’s sake, for the sake of the island.

Without him, Recht would be dead so many times over.

Quey didn’t earn anything, not like Linke had. Quey had just been good, a great warrior, a dealer of justice. But he wasn’t as good as Linke. And he couldn’t handle the pain. Or maybe, the Duos Stone rejected him. It was possible that the Stone had grown accustomed to Linke, not Quey, and had killed the potential thief of the Stone.

Linke didn’t believe that, and neither did Recht. They were both sure that Quey’s constitution wasn’t strong enough, that he didn’t have what it took to be part of the Toa, part of the proper justice of the island.

When Linke had returned to the station that day, about ten days ago, he had went straight to Chief Layef and had told him of the tragedy that had occurred. That first, he didn’t want to be part of the police anymore, nor a detective. He decided to keep things as they were. Sculpting and consultant work.

Second he told Layef about rushing to the scene and watching the Toa come, with Quey being the first to arrive. He said that in the battle, Quey attempted to help the Toa, trying to hold the Dark Hunter at bay, but he was killed by the Toa’s attack, which also took care of the Dark Hunter in rage.

He said Quey died a hero. One who was doing all he could against a superior opponent, trying to protect the island as he was trained to do. As was his duty.

The wounds showed no indication of anything other than trauma and bruising to the chest, from the shockwave, which Karok hadn’t learned anything from. When he saw the cause of death for the Dark Hunter, and heard Linke’s story, he matched them up, saying the trauma was likely from the stones and earth falling and crushing the Dark Hunter. He was probably clipped in the chest. His organs were shot, so that contributed properly.

He said it could have also been crush syndrome. Keeping a body part cut off for too long due to pressure, such as being crushed, and then relieving the pressure. The returning flow of fluids into the body would act like a poison, killing the unfortunate victim soon after. But he doubted that was the cause of death. He assumed the impact rattled his lungs and other organs too much, killing him.

What was Karok’s opinion of the Toa? Linke asked him. Karok had said that he believed the Toa did a good job, that he could be trusted as a defender of the island. He believed in him to take care of the larger problems, such as Dark Hunters, while he was comfortable with police solving murders and dealing with Rahi and the like.

Linke was pleased to hear that. He was happy that Karok was on his side.

As he left the morgue, he returned to see his three detective partners. He saw Derr lecturing to the two Junior Detectives, and then looked to the door, seeing Linke standing there.

“Well come on in, Recht.” He said. He seemed pretty angry, “You want to help us on our next case or not? You need the details, man!”

Linke walked in and looked to the other two. He looked to Derr, “We have a case?”

“Mysterious murders across the island.” Derr answered, “Same weapon every time, but it’s odd.”

“Odd how?” Linke questioned.

“Stab wounds through the chest, right through the left lung every time. The Matoran died instantly, however, at each occasion. Once or twice can be understood…but not each time, not an instant death. Karok believes some sort of poison was secreted for an instant kill. However, he doesn’t know what it could be, no one in the station does or has heard of anything of the sort, and, the blade is too fine to be crafted by anyone. The ports are watching carefully, and they can be nearly one hundred percent sure no weapons got in that are that fine.”

“Dark Hunter?” Linke questioned.

“Meticulous wounds for the kill?” Derr questioned, “And the location. It was straight in, no angle. Size is a factor, here. The size has to be the same height as the victims.”

Linke shrugged, “Dark Hunters recruiting Matoran again.” He offered.

“Question still remains. How did a blade like that get onto the island? We check too much to have let that slip through.” Derr said.

“Security can’t be perfect.” Linke said, “Could have missed it.”

“A dagger, maybe.” Derr said, “But a blade?”

“How long is it?”

“Cut all the way through the body. At least as thick as a Matoran’s body, and then some.” Derr said.

Linke scratched his chin, “Ok…no missing something that size.” He agreed. He shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe it was here already.”

“But who could craft such a fine blade is the question.” Gahla said.

“In my work, I craft fine, straight, perfect designs all the time.” Linke said, “Many master sculptors do. Maybe we have a master blacksmith here.”

“We went to every blacksmith already.” Derr said, “None can make something that fine.”

“Maybe it’s not steel.” Linke said, “Like I said about sculptors. Maybe it’s someone making a weapon of stone.”

Gahla shook her head, “Cuts are too fine. Has to be steel.”

Linke shrugged, “I really don’t know. I have no idea, sorry.”

“You weren’t here to give us ideas.” Derr said, “You’re here to run through witnesses.”

“We have some?” Linke questioned.

“No.” Derr replied, “But you worked miracles with the arson case about a month ago. I’m sure you can come up with some witnesses if you use the same methods.”

“My methods are known to too many.” Linke said. He looked to Cenrik, “You’ll have to be the front man on this.”

“I heard about what you did.” Cenrik told him, “But I can’t sculpt, so what do I have to offer?”

“Do you know any artists?” Linke questioned.

“You.” Cenrik said.

“Ok, stupid question.” Linke said, “Any other artists?”

Cenrik shook his head, “No, I don’t. Sorry.” Then he looked up, with a new light in his eyes, “Wait…a painter.”

“Who?” Linke questioned.

“My old Senior Detective partner and mentor, Phillippe.” Cenrik said, “He paints now!”

“I heard about him.” Linke said, “Doesn’t he paint really abstract scenes? Said to peer right into the heart?”

Cenrik nodded, “That’s what they say.”

“Then let’s do it. You know how to run the game, right?” Linke questioned, and Cenrik nodded. “Ok, good. Then I’ll be there to watch for expressions when you interrogate them.”

Cenrik nodded, “Ok, I’ll do that much.”

“I’ll contact Phillippe.” Derr said, walking to the door, “You get the word out, I’ll get him in on this.”

“We don’t even need him in yet.” Cenrik said, “We’ll get him after. And if he refuses, we have Recht’s sculpting to fall back on.”

Linke and Derr both nodded, both agreeing. Linke to “sculpt”, Derr to hold off on talking to Philleppe.

“Ok, let’s run the game.” Linke said.

After Cenrik had spread the word around, there were seven Matoran witnesses to the murders. After watching each interrogation and doing some of his own, asking provoking questions, Linke came to a conclusion.

“They all are telling the truth.” He scratched the back of his head, “That’s a lot of painting…or a lot of sculpting…”

“Only if we catch this guy.” Cenrik reminded as the two of them walked the halls of the precinct.

Linke nodded, “Right. Only if we catch him.”

The two walked into the room with Gahla and Derr waiting. “Well?” Derr asked.

“Our information tells us this much.” Cenrik said, “The murderer is a Po-Matoran with brown armor, strictly brown with some tan, they believe, no yellow, unlike me. He was seen around each victim before the deaths, and occasionally leaving the scene after they heard the screams.”

“Well, I believe we have our man.” Derr said, “Who is he?”

“That’s the thing.” Cenrik said, “No one knows. No one can ID him.”

“We’ll check records.” Gahla suggested.

Linke looked to her, “Are the records detailed enough to have armor color?”

Derr shook his head, “No, unfortunately.”

“Then we do it the hard way.” Cenrik said, “We go on foot looking. I’ll get some officers together…”

“Ok, you do that.” Derr said, “I’m going to get some officers together to help us out in this situation.”

Linke spoke up, “I’m going to go searching on my own.”

“Ok, just be careful.” Derr said.

“I’ll go with.” Gahla offered.

“No.” Linke said, “Let me go alone, please.”

Gahla nodded slowly, “Ok…just be careful, Recht.”

“Right, everyone, be careful.” Derr said. “Suspect may be using a very potent poison. Engage only if necessary.”

Everyone nodded and departed, except for Derr, who stayed behind to do some last minute work, some “paperwork” to get the officers.

The three split up, parting ways as the day struck noon.

“You want me to help you?” Recht questioned, pacing around the desk where Linke sat. He looked Linke in the eyes, “Why?”

“Please, just help me.” Linke said to the Le-Matoran, “I really need your help on this case.”

“What about it?” Recht demanded.

“Well…you see…I have an idea of who it is, and what’s going on. I just need your help to bring this guy down and bring him in.”

“Why do you need our powers?” Recht questioned.

“Because I suspect the guy we’re after, the murderer, is no ordinary Matoran. I suspect he’s a Sleeper.”

Recht stared at him with full intensity. “You’re sure of this?” Recht demanded, his voice only carrying a serious tone. He was in no mood to joke or anything. “You’re sure this is a Sleeper?”

“It all fits.” Linke said.

“Dear Spirit…” Recht muttered, as a silent prayer to the Great Spirit, “I thought they were only a rumor, an experiment gone wrong and died out.”

“No experiment, from what I know.” Linke said, “But rather, microscopic entities from another dimension inhabiting Matoran bodies, waiting to be deployed, waiting for their invasion. This fits a Sleeper. The perfect blade, the length of it, the poison…”

“Arm blade from the mutation of the body, of the organics, of the armor.” Recht agreed, “Poison secreted through the organics and through the blade to allow for a kill…”

“See? It fits.” Linke said.

Recht nodded, “Where do you need me?”

Twilight. Linke walked onto a dock. There was another dock a bit away from him, not jumping distance, but farther. There was the target, the Po-Matoran, on the other dock, looking out into the ocean.

Linke looked to him, “I know what you are! Give yourself up, Sleeper!”

The Matoran turned, revealing a dagger in his hand. He threw it across the gap between the docks, plunging it into Linke’s shoulder. Linke fell in backwards into the water. A moment later, the water bubbled up, and the Toa shot up. His right was blue, his left was red. Water and Fire.

He floated on the water’s surface with the powers over Water. He threw both arms out, combining his powers, shooting steam forward, blinding the Sleeper Matoran for a few moments.

Recht had hidden underwater, waiting for the moment for Linke to go under. He also had the Earth powers down there, the Stone being held in-between their knees.

Linke grabbed it and quickly changed, becoming blue on the right, black on the left. They put their hands together and triggered their powers. Mud flew forward, slamming into the Matoran, trapping him where he stood.

One more change. Transforming back to Water/Fire.

Instead of using steam again, Linke threw his arm out, unleashing heat. The mud was heated rapidly, and soon hardened, trapping the Matoran inside. He could form his blade out of his armor and organics, but it would be useless. That, and the bombs stored in his organics would be useless without being able to pull them free, he would kill himself. Sleepers needed to self preserve.

He looked towards shore. Sure enough, the detectives and police were coming. The anonymous tip that Linke had left had worked.

The Toa went back under, taking grip of the Earth Stone which they dropped in. They swam, propelling themselves with the power over Water, getting away from the scene and looking for a better location to surface at.

“Thanks for the help.” Linke said as the two of them walked through the twilight streets. Orange light was on every wall around them, making it eerily peaceful for some reason.

“It was a Sleeper.” Recht said, “I had to help, lest it attack some more and kill us all.”

“Do you think there are more out there?” Linke asked.

“After seeing this one, I’m sure of it.” Recht said, “Just feeling it from a distance, feeling how unnatural it is…it disturbed me. I hope anyone else dealing with a Sleeper is smart enough about dispatching it.”

Linke nodded. He stopped in the streets, watching the beauty of the magical time between day and night.

“Linke?” Recht asked, turning back.

“We’ve only just begun. I’m sure of it.” Linke said, “Partner…I’m sure from today on, our trials will only continue to become harder.”

Recht nodded, and the two continued on.

Characters

 * Linke
 * Gahla
 * Recht
 * Kornek (Mentioned Only)
 * Derr
 * "The Shadowed One" (Mentioned Only)
 * Halen
 * Unik
 * Ekiro
 * Mata Nui (Mentioned Only)
 * Ventre
 * Norik (Not Mentioned By Name)
 * Iruini (Mentioned Only)
 * Yutrek
 * Kiren
 * Cenrik
 * Karok
 * "Ghost" (Mentioned Only)
 * Philleppe (Mentioned Only)
 * Epee (Mentioned Only)
 * Layef
 * Tezka (Mentioned Only)
 * Phasm (Mentioned Only)
 * Quey
 * Marchia
 * Allesendro
 * Ezim
 * Hanu (Mentioned Only)
 * Khazard (Not Mentioned By Name)
 * Karzahni (Mentioned Only)
 * Kelda (Not Mentioned By Name)
 * Isha

Trivia

 * The plot of Day Twenty-Three and Day Twenty-Four is an homage to the "Magnum P.I." two-part premiere of the third season entitled "Did You See the Sunrise?", with Recht taking on the titular character's role, and Ezim taking on the role of the Russian named "Ivan". The fate of Ezim is the same as Ivan's, being shot in the face, in revenge for years of past torture, after answering about the sunrise.