Time had stopped.
He was frozen above the ground, unmoving. The metal staff pulsed with red terror in his grasp.
The Turahk stood before him in a crimson haze, ghastly Kraata exposed and writhing. The Rahkshi’s claws gripped the cracked ground, as if instilling fear in the stone itself.
All at once time began to flow again. Jaller was thrown to the earth and skidded along the floor. His view began to fade as his friend kneeled at his side.
“I’m supposed to make the sacrifice.”
Jaller blinked awake. The cold metal was pressing in on him. His fevered breath reverberated around his head in the dark confines of the canister. Seawater rushed against the tube’s surface; a curtain of rain billowed against the metal. Lightning sizzled and flared, thunder pounded, the noise easily audible through the canister walls.
The Ta-Matoran concentrated on breathing calmly. He’d make it through this one way or another. He hoped that the others, his close friends and companions, would survive the ordeal as well. If not, Jaller would have them on his conscience forever. But as the Captain of the Guard, he was accustomed to that responsibility.
He flashed back to Mata Nui again. The day the Pahrak attacked Ga-Koro... the village had almost been destroyed by the onslaught of the Krana-driven creatures. If it hadn’t been for –
His reverie was interrupted by a blinding flash of red light and a groaning sound like a doomed ship’s last breath. Electricity blazed along the metal, and as it coursed through his body, Jaller screamed in pain. The canister shook, screeching in reaction to the blast.
As suddenly as it had struck, the red lightning had ended. Jaller lay barely conscious in the seabound canister, unaware of what was going on. And it was only a short time later that six metal tubes slid up against the jagged edge of a weary land- canisters ashore at last.
Jaller opened his eyes again. This time the cold metal really was pressing in- or was he pressing out? A sheet of rain pattered against the Toa canister. The thunder grumbled again, though farther off this time.
Jaller looked down. He refused to believe it. He felt the power of… himself.
The lid of the canister hissed and slid forward an inch. It was unsealed, just waiting to be opened.
With a yell, Jaller pushed against the metal disk, launching it across the rocks with a clang. Four canisters followed suit, one having been opened before his. A white-clad hand reached down and clasped a red one, pulling his brother up.
- - - - -
The Toa Inika stood upon the rocks of Voya Nui. The storm raged around them, as it had for as long as they could remember.
But they were unafraid. They would stand together in the lightning.
(Ambage Fortnightly Flash-Fiction Contest: A Canister Ashore)
Eh. Not great, but I felt like actually writing something this time. Now if only I'd finished it properly... XD