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This is a chronicle of Phantomoks adventures in a huge swamp 1000 years after being alerted to his true power by his brother Ranitor.


Chapter 1: Death can Dance

One might begin to relize, after a while in this swamp, that life can get hard after a while.

As a matter of fact, Phantomok though to himself, At the moment, life turning into a slave driver. He looked around, and then muttered quietly to himself "And I am the slave".

He had been stuck, lost in this swamp for a year now. Sure, life in this unending abode of evil could be eventful. It could be exciting. But, Phantomok had discovered, above all, life in this place was Dangerous.

He truged through a pile of mud, and looked from side to side. His sheild had a chance to protect him from ambush, but the foes could be powerful enough... Phantomok turned back to the scratch across the ground the the matoran at the last camp called a trail... And started walking. Again.

He then was alerted by another beings pressence by his streght growing. Not good. He would only absorb energy naturally if a being was very close. Very very close. He looked from side to side again, and saw what the being was that was near to him. All hope of a usefull guide or a hut that contained someone as gernerous as to give him food vanished. c The stranger was plated in shining armour, and wore a cut and worn traveling cloak. He floated a foot into the air, poised to strike at him with a huge, golden, scythe. Phantomok instinctivly pulled out his own blade. Hopeing to scare this being off. No luck there.

Then the figure lurched forward in and agressive sideslash. Green fire trailed from the scythe as it sung towards his head, in a blow that would pass through his sheild like it wasn't there. Phantomok ducked, and the blade cut through more air, and then hit a tree, igniting the twisted thing into a blaze of green light. He took a step backwards, and sent an invisible bolt of energy searing towards the Scythe-Wielders chest. It hit with an ominous thud, and the being lurched backwards, right into a tree.

The battle wore on for another five minutes before something interesting happened again. The being raised its scythe as if to lunge again, but instead, something else happend. It started with a feeling of terror, something that did not come easliy into the mind of Phantomok. After that, huge amounts of spirits came, in a dangerous dance around him, sending bolts of dark energy criss-crosssing the clearing here and there, barely missing him.

This require evasive action. Phantomok took a cautious step backwards, and then looked up at the sky, which seemed to be just as twisted as the trees that dotted the swamp. He then looked around at the ghosts, and then at the Scythe-Wielder.

The Being that menaced him looked on, and did not notice the energy until it was to late. His armour was crushed by Phantomoks power on all sides, and the concentration that was spent to keep the ghosts under his control was lost in and instant. And in that instant, Phantomok was gone.

Several miles away, Phantomok though the same thoughts that had gone through his mind so many times befor.

Welcome to the Swamp of Dread, get used to this.


Chapter 2: Wandering

Phantomok had been wandering in the swamp for long enough for him to know an awful lot about it. An Awful lot. First of all, he knew that the matoran here were of odd elements and were shunned by the majority of other matoran. They were kind to you if you were kind to them. And here he was, at the outskirts of another matoran camp.

This one was just a clump of huts, lines up along one central road. No matroran were in sight. Phanotomok looked up and down the streets. He knew what kind of matoran lived here. He was best to just pass through, hopefully unnoticed.

He made it about halfway through the village before he was spotted. A small matoran ran out from a house to obstruct the road infront of him.

"Wait!" The matoran cried softly.

"Yes?"

"It has been long since the last traveller arrived here. The Shadis keeps all away from this village and prevents us from going out. We need the route to be cleared, and certainly a warrior of your power might be able to do so! Could you please?"

Phantomok was startled by this little matoran being able to ask so much so quickly, not even knowing if he were a friend or foe.

"Tell me, what is this "Shadis" like?"

"He is tall and hooded, with a great scythe in one hand." The little matoran was obviously afraid of even mentioning it.

"I have already dealt with it." Phantomok said, surprising her.

"Thank you. Please, come to my house, I am the leader of this settlement. I want to thank you more."

Phantomok followed this Kri-Matoran, or matoran of death, into a small hut. He sat down, and the matoran went to get something. She came back, holding two transparent swords.

"Take them." She said flatly.

"Thank you."


The Kri-Matoran gave him directions out of the swamp, like so many other villages befor. However, unlike all the other villages, she did not ask him to stay longer. Somewhat charmed by this, he turned back to her and gave her a small brown paper package. He then turned, and left.


Aviian, the matoran leader, watched him vanish into the mist befor looking at what he gave her. It was a small stone, about the size of her hand. It had odd engravings on it. She pulled it out of the package to examine it further.

The moment she touched it she felt something change. She looked around, to find herself looking at the top of a nearby doorframe. She turned, noticeing a weight on her back. Removing it, it was revealed to be a spear. She looked at her hand, which was now armoured. Then she looked out into the fog, seeing where she couldn't as a matoran. Phantomok was just outside the place were the Shadis stopped travelers. Then she turned by to the village.

So this is what being a toa feels like She thought to herself.


Chapter 3: Intersection

Phantomok was really, really worries. Of course, anyone else in his position would be happy. Who wouldn’t love having there power double rapidly? But it was doubling! Doubling! Someone of immense power was lurking around here. Great power. And just judging by the fact that they were in this swamp, it would not be good. Phantomok turned around once, and then turned around again. On the second time round, he saw something. It was non other that his own brother. Ranitor Phantomok froze, and Ranitor froze. They Ranitor smiled. “Hello, brother.”

“Hello. It has been a while.”

“Indeed. I believe I never got a chance to thank you.”

Phantomok was puzzled. “Thank me for what?”

“For alerting me to my power. What else?”

“Me? Alert you? No, brother, I believe it was the other way around!”

“What? Are you saying that…”

“You told me that I was sent here by Mata Nui himself. You then told me how to turn into

this form. How else could I be like this. I remember it clearly.”

“But… You did that to me! I remember it well, also.”

“So if you didn’t alert me, and I didn’t alert you, then who alerted us?”

“Oh, what a good question, doomed ones…”

Phantomok jumped around, looking for the speaker. He didn’t have to look though. Standing infront of him, staring at him in the face, was an abomination that made Tren Krom look cuddly. It was a huge being on four legs, with a head just above were the for legs met. The rest of his body was a huge ovular bulb sticking straight up into the air, growing of the top of its head. Or rather, its head was fused into the bulb. Its face wore a shabby mask, and a tattered purple rag concealed the lower half. Its bulk was also a dark purple. Ranitor instinctively drew a large flail, and Phantomok readied the blades that the ex-matoran had given him. The creature laughed. Suddenly, small white, squares, appearing to be made out of pure energy started to appear in huge numbers, then proceeding to orbit around the scene. The Abomination laughed again.

“My friends are arriving. But before they show up, allow me to introduce myself. I am Alvbanmi, the lead Stalker. My friends here,” He said, indicating the small squares of energy, ”Are also Stalkers. We have been stalking you for a long time. And now the stalking

is finish. Prepare to die!” With that, the squares congealed into beings almost exactly like him. They began to close in. They hissed, and some of them spat at the ground. Their spit burned the ground like acid. It probably was acid.

Then Ranitor struck. He leapt through the air, turn a midair summersault, and smashed his mace into the bulb of one of the Stalkers. With a terrifying shriek, it exploded, spewing acid everywhere from the bloated bulb. Ranitor skillfully vanished, and then reappeared out of the blast radius. Phantomok’s natural shield to effect, protecting him from the acid’s burning harm. The other Stalkers closed in more. Phantomok turned to the leader. He smiled a bit. Then suddenly the leader was flung with incredible speed through the ranks of his troops and into a tree.

However, the tides soon turned. The Stalkers exploited the ability to teleport and razor claws, slashing and cutting to no end. In the midst of things, everything was looking grim for the Brothers.

Then extremely abruptly a tree fell on two of the stalkers. It almost hit the Leader too, however, it was to slow for him. At the first creak he was gone in a flurry of energy squares. Phantomok looked at the tree. It had not fallen naturally. It had suddenly decayed past the point of no return in one spot only, and even more strangely, in a matter of seconds. The Stalkers paused for a moment, and then suddenly all the stalkers went running left right and center to form the trapping circle again, in a rather disorganized and confusing way. The source of the confusion was soon revealed. Pale ghosts were twirling up from the ground, screaming and whispering in the Stalkers ears. And then to top it all of, a deadly mental blast ripped through the minds of the villains.

Within five seconds, every stalker had teleported away. Ranitor and Phantomok were standing there alone. Well, not alone. They both turned to see their rescuers. Phantomok did not recognize any of them, save one. The one who was standing in front as leader. It was Aviian.

Ranitor had apparently met the rest, and soon introductions were made. The pale blue toa introduced himself to be Zaivo, toa of Spirit. The green and silver toa was Technodius, toa of Intelligence, and his partner was Retricc, a grey-clad toa of Iron. The second in command appeared to be Evernii, toa of Energy, and the small one that lurked in a tree most of the time was Graavan, green-clad toa of plantlife.

A little while later, a mission was decided. The new team of toa (The ones that Phantomok didn’t know were revealed to be turned into toa by Ranitor) were going to track down the Stalkers, while the Brothers were going to track down the two imposters that alerted them to there strength. A short conversation later, both teams had vanished into the swamp.

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