Aata Wakawarewa planted his foot on the rubble of a building, pivoting as if preparing to hurl a great weapon a long distance. Which, in a way, he was. Completing the rotation, he released Arataki into the air, propelling her towards the hulking form of Oblivaeon. Or, one of "her", anyway. It was all very new to Aata, known to evildoers as The Judge. At least, evildoers where he came from...
He stopped thinking about it again, as it distracted from the battle at hand. There seemed to be an almost endless opportunity here to fight and test his strength. In fact, as he looked for the next enemy to punish, he saw that he already was testing his strength against two large groups of invaders, and appearing to do very well in both cases. Always a student of great skill in battle, he took a brief glance while sprinting towards a giant golden demon to observe the styles of his two- wait, one, brother in battle. There had definitely been two only a moment ago. He could still see the orange-clad invader reeling from the blow that now seemed to have come from nowhere but a small gap in the press of bodies caught up in the throes of battle.
Aata stopped dead in his tracks. He felt a small surge of strength flare in his chest, but disregarded it. There was something more important here. Something... wrong. There wasn't anything around where the other Aata should have been to show why he was no longer there. He quickly glanced back at Arataki to make sure she would land where he had chosen for her to strike, and this time, he caught it. As she flew through the air, winding back to prepare for the blow, she just... wasn't. He leapt up to a better vantage point, sparing a small look back to other fight to see that he was defending a group of heroes from invaders throwing great gouts of energy, placing his body in the way. That was good, at least this thing wasn't removing each of him. Aata watched as he gave a great roaring laugh and charged at the invaders, breaking their ranks and spirits, crashing against-
In an instant, the invaders were bowled over, but there was no furious warrior pressing the attack. He felt another flare in his chest as he frantically tried to reason what this was. It may come for him next. Hearing commands in his head from one of the allies that had called herself The Visionary, ordering different warriors to focus their charges at various enemies, he knew what must be done.
"Visionary, who speaks in my mind. I require something of you." He charged down the side of the collapsed building, leaping off to strike at the golden demon for what may be his last battle.
"Little busy, Judge! This better be important!" How she knew his battle name was only a minor curiosity, as he flew through the air at the one who was to be punished.
"I must give a message to... the others of myself. I will... not take long. It may be the most important thing I ever say." He connected hard into the side of the demon, cracking through the ice that had begun to build around its form.
"Sure, fine, whatever. Be quick about it, I can't keep this connection together for long." Aata held on tightly to the golden demon, wrapping its limbs as best he could to keep it subdued, and away from the smaller heroes in the fray.
"The Song is Over! Mourn for those who no longer sing!" Aata shouted from his mind, from his heart, and from his chest, wrestling the golden demon that seemed to change shape to escape his grasp.
"Give of yourselves your last and greatest strength, for those who may yet sing when we are gone!" Fire suddenly engulfed him, as the whole demon's form burst alight.
"Though we are mighty warriors, Hine-nui-te-pō comes to unmake us today!" Aata stepped back, blazing with flame, embroiled with grief and anger.
"Sing the song of Battle and Victory, for this is our last Song!" Still burning, he rushed headlong into the demon, pinning it to the ground, and catching a geyser of acid in the gut.
"Give of yourselves your last and greatest strength!" Aata swung furiously, beating every surface of the demon he could find, landing blows on patches of fire, chunks of ice, and unyielding metal.
Lightning and acid swirled around the warrior as he screamed to the sky "The Song is over, and Victory is ou-"
In a moment, he was gone.
As Haka charged back into the Gate held open by Nightmist for what he now knew may be his last time, he felt a number of flares of strength in his chest. With the grief of one who has lost another in a long line of fellow warriors, he began the chant once more. “The song is over! Mourn for those who no longer sing!”