#if teridax presents it to him with the right words. and teridax ALWAYS know how to present it to him with the right words.

[randomwriteronline]

The sound of waves is soothing and irritating all at once. It almost drives him mad, and then it calms him down again. His heartlight pulses a little quicker than it should. A sense of anxiety gives his rocking motion a strange apprehension.

The sea bears life.

The sea bore us.

His sister's words make him feel sick in his chest.

"Pohatu..."

His head raises suddenly to the grey sky, smiling: "I'm here."

"Where are you siblings?" asks Teridax's voice with a windy whisper, slithering around him.

"Trapped underground."

"Very well," the Makuta's voice purrs; bashful pride swells in the Toa's chest. "Where is the Mask of Light?"

"With Akhmou, to be melted down in the forges."

"Very well," another rumble in the protodermis sea, another caress from the howling gale. "Where are the Turaga Metru?"

"If they haven't been caught already, on the way to me."

"Very, very well, my Toa." Pohatu grins, basking in the quiet praise - but his heartlight stills a moment later as the sky sighs: "And yet..."

Has he done something wrong?

Something bad?

He tried to do everything right, as right as he could.

Did he waste too much time?

Cold winds wrap around him; the ground beneath him seems to sink a little more under his weight, the air curls heavier around his limbs and head, and the entire universe seem to close in on him, to observe him more intently.

He's not scared by this.

He knows Teridax would never hurt him.

He's just trying to understand what he did wrong.

The sounds solidify in the shape of a well-known claw to trace the maskless face he cradles in his arms: "He is still here."

Pohatu looks down.

Takanuva remains unconscious.

"Pohatu..." Teridax asks sweetly, rumbling like a thunderstorm, "You do remember what I've told you... The Toa of Light..."

"But it wasn't his fault!" Pohatu interrupts him. His hold on his little brother tightens slightly. "You said it yourself, Takua has nothing to do with this. If it wasn't for the Turaga, for that mask - he's innocent."

"He is, of course," the Makuta growls, "But danger lurks within him."

The Toa curls around the much larger body in his lap: "But he hasn't done anything wrong," he continues to defend him. "And without the mask he can't do anything, he's just like a Matoran again, without any powers - so I thought... I thought..."

"You disobey me?"

"No! No, no, I'm not disobeying, I don't want to disobey!" he's quick to reassure his master. Nothing frightens him more than the quiet heartbreak in his tone - he's good, he's good, he wants to be good, he wants to be good and useful and someone to be proud of, he doesn't want to make him upset, he doesn't want to disappoint him, it's just... It's just... He looks down, to the closed golden eyes of Takanuva. His shoulders close around him tenderly, to shield him from the cruel world that saw it fit to throw him into such a terrible life. "But he's... He hasn't done anything... He thought - they made him believe he had to, that it was his destiny, it wasn't his fault... He's just Takua... He's just..."

"Your little brother," Teridax finishes for him.

Pohatu nods.

The waves recede until the seabed is almost visible; they crash once more against the cliff with a long, gentle sigh.

"You have much too big a heart, Pohatu," the Makuta tells him, willing the salt in the air to cradle his puppet's head as though it were his palm. "And though it is an admirable thing, it still sometimes blinds you from what must be done - especially when it is in your little brother's best interest."

The Toa looks up, into the sky, to the spectral light of the twin suns. He has no trouble imagining the deep crimson of Teridax's eyes in place of their thin silvery shine.

"He has been turned into my enemy against his will, that is true," the usurper continues, voice low and sweet: "And I cannot execute him for being guilty of a crime others forced him to commit without even knowing what he was truly doing. But he must die regardless, Pohatu - not because he must be brought to justice, like your siblings and their mentors, but because he deserves to be given mercy."

"Mercy?"

"Yes, my Toa, mercy... The very same thing the Turaga denied him. Reflect well: the Avohkii has mutated him, tearing his previous careless, happy existence from him, staining him with the irreversible mark of its blinding light. No matter how far he may run, Destiny will always hound him, chasing him into his demise."

Pohatu hugs his brother closer, as though Destiny was a beast standing right before them in this second, hissing and writhing as it eyes Takanuva with a hungry gaze.

Loving claws of frigid wind soothe his head, caressing it slowly: "Do you see, then?" the waters churn below him, "Death is not a punishment; it is a kindness. Free him from such a horrible fate. Put a gentle end to the life of strife and agony he has been sacrificed to."

This -

This is the only time Pohatu laments following the code.

He would. He would kill Takanuva, right here and now, in his own arms, while he's still unconscious - so he could die loved and safe, without even noticing, drifting into even softer, even deeper sleep.

He would do it for him, so he doesn't have to suffer, so he doesn't have to be torn apart by something else, something so much more terrible than a brother who honestly, honestly loves him, a brother who loves him enough to spare him from something as horrible as a life he should not be forced to live.

He would, he would, he wants to (Teridax is right - what a fool he was for doubting him, when Teridax is always right and always good, and he even talked back to him and argued with him - oh, a fool, a fool, an idiot, a cretin, a worthless mindless sack of rocks - he is so lucky Teridax is so patient with him even when he's this incredibly stupid, so lucky he still cares about him enough to call him dear), but he can't. He can't. He can't.

He rocks Takanuva slowly, for no good reason, and he thinks.

He thinks as hard as he can.

"There's a cave in Po-Metru," he mutters - half to himself, half to the universe, "By the docks - the Visorak horde opened it with a tunnel, but the rest of it caved in... It's under the sea, I remember, with an entrance that can only be found underwater... Getting there was a mess. But I remember the way, I could do it. And the adaptive armor would make it easier. With some luck, the high tide would catch up to him before he could wake up. He wouldn't feel a single thing."

The ground beneath him rumbles: "There," Teridax praises him, "How clever you are, when your mind is clear."

The fear and guilt and worry are washed away from him completely in the mere fraction of a second, like a bad dream chased off by a gentle embrace: Pohatu smiles, embarrassed and flattered.

"Although, just in case luck does not favor us - perhaps, a shackle or two... As he would not understand your act of mercy..."

Of course, of course: "I'll make sure he's secured, Great Spirit."

The grandiose title makes the cliff on which the Toa sits stand even taller as the Makuta preens himself. Great Spirit - yes, of course; that is his name, now, and this is his universe; and oh, it is with such reverence that Pohatu says it, such conviction, such blind all-consuming devotion...

His claws in the shape of the winds lift the Toa's chin up to the sky, his brilliant eyes so eager to make him proud: "Well done, Pohatu," Teridax croons; with another gust of gale he presses against the forehead of his mask to push it down again, in a show of obedience: "I knew you would not disappoint me."

Pohatu never disappoints him.

Pohatu craves to be loved too much to disappoint him.

"Now run along, my dear Toa of Stone. You have a brother to save, and six traitors to imprison."

Pohatu nods, brimming with purpose and quelled anxieties.

Then he disappears, an orange flash beneath grey skies.

The waves keep crashing against the small cliff.

Under it, Hewkii shakes, breathing too fast.