#codrex

[nameshifter]

Really old picture of an AU I had

Once upon a time I wanted to make story about a bunch of Av-matoran that never got to expand their characters. One of the ideas was that the matoran in question would at least be partially influenced by Makuta Teridax, as the villain of the story would've been Mutran.

The story didn't get anywhere... hopefully that changes soon

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

OMG I JUST DISCOVERED I HAVE POLLS SO OBVIOUSLY IMMA NEED TO TEST THIS WITH S VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION

[ghost-mantis]

Takua was the very first Matoran built by the Great Beings. He was not only a test build to see if their nanotech workers would perform as expected, but a way to test early builds of GSR programming.

Headcanon that Takua's programming was granted administrator privileges to the GSR. The Great Beings wanted to make sure the automated systems would interact safely with an administrator before they tested things themselves. If their test subject was attacked or destroyed, well they could always build another.

Additional Headcanon that when the Great Beings were finished and dumped Takua in with the rest of the Av-Matoran they cleared his memory but forgot to remove the administrator privileges. This played an accidental role in the rest of the storyline.

This explains why only Takua could summon the Toa Mata or enter the Bohrok Nest unhindered. He still retained the privileges as Takanuva but couldn't bypass Karzahni's barrier because he too had overwright privileges on part of the GSR and could exclude anyone he wanted.

Had he gotten past the barrier with the rest of his friends, he would have been able to walk them down the 777 stairs without tripping any of the protection systems. Had he wanted to, he could have also walked straight into the Codrex without the key.

With his access to the GSR systems, he would have been able to walk into Mata Nui's brain if he knew the way. Likewise, if he had known how to code he could have rewritten the traits and personalities of others, not unlike a Makuta virus.

Had the Great Beings gone back to visit the GSR, Takua would have been able to see them despite the programming block placed on non-administrators to render them invisible.

*Great Beings in Metru Nui pre-Teridax Attack, Standing around Ta-Metru looking at various Matoran while 'unseen' by the locals.*

Great Being 1: "Hmmm, the project is progressing well enough, but how did they all gain sapience? We didn't program them for that!"

Great Being 2: "Someone must have interfered..."

Takua: *From Behind Them* "Oh hey, you guys must be tourists! I've never seen anyone like you before. What island are you from?"

Great Beings: *Incoherent Shrieking*

[randomwriteronline]

I wonder if the toa mata recognized themselves in their own memories from before mata nui.

I dont know, i think theres possibilities to be explored about that. Suddenly remembering yourself and what you find being a complete stranger is a common thing for amnesia plots i guess but also i think this could be even more jarring. Like a more genuine difference between killing machine and living being.

Its less a matter of nature vs nurture and more a matter of nature with a certain type of nurture. Nature dictates they are powerful and driven and well meaning, but the way they are brought up produces completely different people.

Their first taste of life was a sterile room with nobody but each other and a disembodied voice reading out their duties, establishing an arbitrary hierarchy within them, and then sending them to a glorified bootcamp where a ruthless instructor worked on making them into skilled combatants and nothing else, teaching them how to use their elements as tools and weapons without indulging in them; they got a vague sense of what and how a community feels like with the Av-Matoran - as outsiders, as its protective shield, there for them but not with them - only to get that stripped away from them too because their role as life saving tools to be preserved under glass just in case of a crisis was more important.

I wonder if the Toa Mata, the ones who were taken to the Koro of Mata Nui and listened to the Turaga's tales and reprimands and would have moved mountains for the Matoran who treated them like older siblings, return with their minds to things they said or thought or did from before the Island of Mata Nui and stop in their tracks. Whose memory is that, they think? That can't be mine. I am not like that. My siblings are not like that. Some things are perfectly right, they cant deny that; but just as many if not more are so wrong that they almost feel like a really cruel joke somebody planted into their heads.

Kopaka and Tahu got along, even if they dont want to admit it because they need to bicker like children or theyll die, but are more surprised that they werent as tentatively close with anybody else. Lewa remembers so much frustration and tedium and anger that if he stalls in his memories too much he genuinely starts feeling queasy, Pohatu has remnants of bitterness and passive aggression that still cling to him like the smell of a cigarette on someone who gave up smoking, and they both hate that because its nothing like them. Onua and Gali feel like theyre peering into some kind of imperfect clone's brain when they try to remember - its themselves, they know that, it has to be, but there are certain things they know about themelves that are just completely missing and its kind of dizzying to realize that.

Im not even sure they liked each other. They work together because its their destiny, but they don't seem to seek each other out for fun or anything else. In their training days they had to be shoved in each others direction or they would have never solved their obligatory group assignments.

I wonder if their terrors and flaws could partially come from this first life that they had too. Gali's fear of her anger and Lewa's disregard for duty stemming from Hydraxon's methods - she internalized his reprimands about feeling guilt for living enemies, but without any memory of him she believes the words resurfacing in her mind from time to time are her own, and is appalled by their cruelty; he was forbidden from enjoying himself, from indulging in any form of fun, of entertainment, of joy, and unconsciously now he rebels by shirking away from responsability to do whatever he wants.

The responses to Tahu's decision regarding the codrex haunt him, the whole situation, really; how he stripped his siblings of any say on their fate because he was the leader, not even telling them or explaining himself until they had no other choice, and if he could treat them like that once then what would stop him from doing so again and again until he doesnt even think about it? Kopaka is uneasy about it too. He knew the plan and supported Tahu only because he tagged along, but hes very, very acutely aware that he would have been left just as much in the dark as everybody else otherwise, and he would gave not even had anybody to seek any comfort from because hes fairly certain none of the others would have liked him enough to care.

Onua as @cantankerouscanuck pointed out to me mightve taken Hydraxon's teachings to heart, hence why he's so quiet: no use in expressing weakness, right? But karda nui must have been hellish on his senses, with all that light - a tangible physical discomfort that would bleed out into an emotional one as he becomes conscious of how none of his siblings go through this, thus he must be damaged in some way, faulty, out of place, and so he seeks to be alone, digging himself away. And its not hard to imagine how Pohatu (who hasnt had the chance to grow into the affable, kind toa his siblings can always lean on when they need to yet) would become convinced of his uselessness within the team and seethe about it.

They arrive on Mata Nui as broken war machines with no clue who they even are and suddenly find nature and community and love, and in a moment theyre people.

I wonder if the environment helped. Being thrown upon a beach in the open air with nothing but a whole world that is so alien and yet feels so right beckoning them to come closer. Discovering their powers and their domains freely, immediately - first thing they did was dive into their respective elements without a second thought, naturally magnetized, taking after them like it was the simplest thing in the world, because they are the first toa, the first beings capable of harnessing these powers in their whole universe, and its in their nature to be so connected to them. Maybe it helped. Maybe it made them feel connected to their own selves enough to figure themselves out in a way they couldnt have done so before.

Maybe it helped to find out their collective destiny each on their own, in their own environment, at their own pace, surrounded by younger siblings who look at them with awe and curiosity and frustration sometimes, guided by people who know how being alive works with all its good parts and messy bits and who can tell what having so much power means when youre barely aware of how to use it or what to do. And maybe it helped to find out who their siblings were in a similar way, introducing themselves as they wanted, as they felt like, without a specific order, and learning to recognize each other as siblings with all the things that make them insufferable and all the things that make them the best and what makes them happy and what makes them angry and how they sound when theyre worried and how likely they are to chase you down to the other edge of the island for doing something stupid, and like real people they grow and develop and change and stay the same, and then they meet the memory of themselves from before becoming people and its...

Idk. Its like the realization of who they used to be and the distance between themselves and those selves, and the fact that they dont like them.

[nattarthetimedragon]

Ignika Toa of death (he/him).As he dived into Codrex, Ignika realized it was too late. The mask was already turning black. He Knew his purpose was the end of life in the universe, but with his new found emotions he managed to hold back the blast of energy that would end all life. The drive to end life was too strong he could not fight that programming. So with sorrow he twisted his form, in hopes that people would see the monster he became, to give them a chance to stop him, but none could. All were ended with his executioner axe. Hope you like my Halloween MOC, have a fun spooky season!!!!

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

He's Always Been Dead

So... I have a completely uncanonical idea for Bionicle I'm turning over in my head.

What if Mata Nui was a title more than a person? Like "the Great Spirit" sounds more like a title than a name, right? What if the use of the Ignika was less like an electric paddle--because the Great Spirit was always already dead?

Basically, in this alternate story, the original Mata Nui (the spirit controlling the GSR) died as the result of the Great Disruption. The sacrifice of Jovan's teammate wasn't to die but to become the next Great Spirit. This is why it's necessary for wearer of the Ignika to "die": they become the next Mata Nui.

The Great Spirit who falls asleep at in the Cataclysm isn't the first Great Spirit--and it might not have been the second. Perhaps, after Jovan's teammate also died, the Ignika was next worn by a Makuta, sacrificing himself as nobly as the Toa before him had, but this left enough clues that--for the first time--someone pieced together that it wasn't the same Great Spirit reawakened, but the Makuta in an elevated position.

Naturally, it's Teridax who figures this out, explaining both where his ambition to "become" the GSR comes from and why he calls the sleeping Mata Nui his brother. Sleep spares him the pain--of betrayal.

Teridax's plan is to be the one to wear the Ignika, but after that whole "Takutanuva" thing, he no longer has a body to wear it. His backup plan may originally have been to try wearing the Ignika while inhabiting the Maxilos robot, but either he realised that wouldn't work (maybe he tried, before the Mahri got there), or he found a backup plan.

The being subsumed by the Ignika to become the next GSR would lose a lot of their memory and self (it is, after all, a sacrifice--and the truth of what happens wasn't know until a Makuta--a being of greater innate power than a Toa--did it), which Teridax wasn't keen on, and after being subsumed, the Ignika still had to be taken to the Codrex to upload the new Mata Nui. Teridax saw his opportunity to avoid the obliteration of his self and in his disembodied state had the perfect opportunity to slip in ahead of the new Mata Nui when the Ignika arrived in the Codrex and started the upload process, taking control of the GSR as the new Mata Nui while circumventing the loss of self supposed to go with it.

What this means, of course, is that the "Mata Nui" of 2009-10 is actually Matoro. And perhaps, after having had a Makuta as the last Mata Nui, the Ignika didn't obliterate everything that had made Matoro himself, and when he incarnates on Bara Magna, he begins to remember who he was and what has happened to him.

This is, of course, a transparent alternate reality that allows Matoro to survive. But it also sheds a little light on Teridax and his "brother"--and maybe on Teridax's destiny: he was supposed to become Mata Nui, but he was supposed to yield to his destiny and surrender himself, rather than to grasp for it.

[matoroblogs]

Codrex concept art by Christian Faber

“When the Toa insert the keystone the Codrex will spring into life and the multiple layers of solid protodermis perfectly held in place by magnetism will glide into position creating a perfect tunnel to the core. This is where the Toa get their power boost: the battle vehicles and this is where Matoro later on will impact with the core and ignite Mata Nui.”

[paladinbehavior]

Day 8 of bonkin!

Tavrut was never the most combat-creative Makuta. Mostly relying on brute strength to defend himself, he stuck to his original job of creating Rahi. He meticulously balanced the ecosystems under his control, and didn’t care about much else that happened outside that. However, once Teridax made his plans public for the other Makuta, Tavrut joined the cause, saying that overthrowing the Great Spirit sounded “like a pretty good idea, I think.”

However, when Teridax saw Tavrut’s armor, the black mask of shadows, the black/grey/maroon colors, he decided to sideline Tavrut. Teridax’s vision involved him being “The Makuta,” and thus, someone who looked so similar could not have any crucial roles. Tavrut’s insistence on participating led Teridax to hate him so much that he made sure that Tavrut was at the most dangerous spot next to the Codrex as the storms hit. However, this backfired.

As the storms ravaged the makuta, killing nearly all of them, the Ignika was ejected from the Matoran Universe. The surviving Makuta, with a newfound unity in their hatred for Teridax, quickly left, not paying enough attention to notice the barely living Tavrut on the ground. As the Ignika rocketed off from the Codrex, it let out a blast of life energy that hit Tavrut and healed him, leaving a glowing blue infection on his shoulder.

The infection has spread since then, corroding his armor and reforming something akin to flesh beneath it. Tavrut now wanders the newly formed Spherus Magna, avoiding Matoran/Agori camps in search for something that could cure this infection, whatever it is…

[0m3g45n1p3r4lph4]

Okay so obviously Adaptive Armour has a silver default like Nuva armour. And obviously it can change colour when shape-shifting to match the environment- see the Toa Nuva Phantoka. Dark Gray armour to blend in with the dark gray rocks of the Stalactite villages.

So why did the Mistika have silver? Doesn't fit. I could see them all reverting to silver in the Codrex, or while piloting the Battle Vehicles, but in the Swamp? There's a better colour match.

They should've used Metallic Green.

[makutaservaela]

The (Continued) Mutran Chronicles

Vican has obtained pieces of Mutran's continued Chronicles after the Makuta's revival, and he's decided to share them with us.

------------

I would rather not go into the horrifying details (horrifying even to my standards) but I would like to record my journey, and remember the reason that the Brotherhood no longer stands as united as before, under one leader, in one home. 

I remember the energy storm blasting from the Codrex. I was very curious of it, unlike my brothers. They were too busy tearing at each other’s throats to stare the raw and brilliant power in the eye, or stare at their own demise, if that would be a better term for the storms. I remember the light, the shock, the scream, but no pain. I remember how it was blinding light, and then comforting dark. I never really understood what had happened. I had died. I had ceased to exist. I hardly remember what it felt like, truly being nothing at all. 

The next thing I knew, my eyes were open. I was in a room beside my brothers, all of them sharing my own gaze of confusion.

I remember the shock and silence of my brothers as we stared at each other. Suddenly, they were gone, vanished from my sight in an instant. I watched as the walls of the room that I was in sink around me. There was a blinding light, which soon faded into a rotten landscape. It was after this that the true Karzahni began. 

I think it was at least a thousand years I spent in that desolate wasteland, or mighty jungle, or wherever else I woke after my many, many deaths.  

I was on my 387th horrifically slow and painful death, an hour-long suffocation I believe, when things finally changed. Whatever the strange creature was, it was smiling as it had its disgusting paws clamped on my throat. My lungs were on fire and I had no powers, nothing to stop it, anymore than I could have stopped the other 386 excruciating deaths. My vision was growing blurry, and I wondered which terrible place I would wake up next. I ended up waking in the most horrible place of all: 

The base of the Brotherhood’s worst enemies. 

I awoke on an operating table, my limbs tied down and several tubes attached to my body in different locations. A few large beings surrounded me. It was a blue Toa that finally approached me. 

“Welcome back, Mutran.” She said to me dryly. 

“It is Makuta Mutran, to you!” I snarled, unable to think of anything else to say. I always have a habit of growing uselessly angered and saying stupid things when I am forcibly immobile. The one thing that I am jealous of Chirox is that obnoxious wit. Chirox would have, and most likely had, said something sarcastic and rudely humorous.  

“Actually, it is nothing to me.” The female replied. I do not like it much when other beings are disrespectful to me. That always means that they do not fear me. 

“I demand to be unhanded at once.” I ordered. 

She glared “I assume you have learned nothing of your punishment? Perhaps you should be sentenced to the amount of revivals your brother Antroz had: 890.” 

I bit my tongue. I was still enraged at this creature, and curious to my fellow Makuta’s locations, but I was shocked when I realized that this Toa had something to do with my past millennia. 

“Do you know how long you have been dying, Mutran?” The Toa asked, although she spoke as if she already knew the answer. 

I did not respond, but she knew that I counted the days the best I could. 

“Ten minutes.” She grunted. 

“That’s impossible.” I exclaimed. 

“Not with our new technology. You liked it, didn’t you?” She chuckled. “Dream Therapy. We can do whatever we want to you, punish you as much as we would like, kill you as many times as you deserve, and cause no harm to you and waste none of our own time. We can make sure that this dream stays in your memory forever, and even for you to get nightmares about it in your further sleep. It is odd that Makuta have not come up with this idea before we have. It is the perfect punishment.” 

“Where are the others?” I asked, trying not to think of the dream. 

“While your dream has only lasted ten minutes, we have kept you in a comatose for quite some time. The others are already mingling with the Matoran, Toa, and a few others on an Island. ‘New Metru’ I believe it’s called.” The Toa answered. 

“I am assuming my brethren are good and innocent now?” 

The Toa shook her head. “The Makuta are still quite dangerous, but you and your kind are banned from forming a brotherhood again. Therefore, the other Makuta seem to be more interested in doing their own things. Perhaps you will follow suit?” 

“Unlikely.” I grunted. 

“We will let you decide your own future for yourself.” The Toa said matter-of-factly. “Due to your intellect, you may not be returned directly to the others. We will place you in a ‘cell’ of a sort. You shall remain there with a companion assigned to you under our watchful eye, until we deem you ready to meet your old brethren. As with your brothers, a virus has been placed inside you that will grow at least a slight sense of compassion and mercy in your mind. You will also be given anything you need to survive, including food, as your new sustaining body will require. You are banned from harming your companion, escaping before your due time, attempting to kill yourself, or coming up with anymore ‘world taking-over’ plans during your imprisonment. Failure to abide by the rules will result in another round of the Order’s specified punishment, in state, Dream Therapy. Is this understood?” 

I grunted in response. 

“Very well.” Continued the Toa, speaking as if this were the sixth time she used this order. 

I do not remember quite what happened after the Toa spoke to me, but the splitting headache I had upon awakening told me that I must have been knocked unconscious. I awoke in a simple flaxen bed, not unlike the ones used on Destral. I was in a bare room with no adornments around. I remember feeling innocently curious and naked for the first time in a long time. I spent several minutes, possibly an hour, examining my new bio-organic exoskeletal body. It felt strange, I must admit. I remember slicing into my arms and watching, not essence, but living blood spill out. I also remember losing consciousness for a bit after that. I once again awoke a few minutes later with tight bandages wrapped around my aching arms. I also found, to my annoyance and discomfort, that my claws had been filed down. 

The next thing that annoyed me was an aching and cramped feeling in my abdomen. I could not remember such a feeling, and attempted to observe my abdomen for reasons of such discomfort, but to no prevail. I decided to ignore the feeling and observe the rest of my new prison. 

A metal door stood in one corner of my room. I assumed that it would be locked, but to my shock, it was not. The room alone was not my prison. Another door, a bit shorter than mine, stood across from mine. To the left was a blank stone wall, and to the right was a hallway. I decided to see the contents of the other room before exploring off. I had to bend over quite far in order to enter the room, which may not have been necessary if I had shape-shifted. Unfortunately, I seemed no longer in possession of the ability to do so, anymore than I could harness about thirty of my other forty-two powers.  

The inside of the room was just as bare as mine was, but the bed was a bit smaller and the roof was lower. I exited the room and turned down the hallway, walking rather slowly. I would have moved faster, for I was eager to learn of my new inhabitance, but I was feeling rather weak physically. The painful cramp persisted in my abdomen as well, as did a cramped feeling in my wings and my shoulders. 

I came to the end of the hallway to enter a large room. Much of it was lined with shelves full of vials of viruses and concoctions, strange objects made of a flimsy nature that I was later informed were referred to as “books”, and to one side of the room was a large vat. 

As interested as I was on lab work, I was still annoyed by the growing pain in my abdomen, so I looked around the room for something to vanquish it. I found several rooms that left off of the main lab. Across from where my quarters stood, was a large, thick metal door. I assumed that this was the gate to my prison, and at a much later time, I found that this assumption had been correct. I looked around the other rooms in the building, leading from the lab. One was a strange room with a silver tiled floor. It had an odd empty vat in it, with a faucet hanging from the ceiling. Beside the vat, was a small bowl contraption. The bowl was filled about halfway with water, and it carried an odd scent. 

Beside this room, was one with a very tall ceiling. It had ledges and cliffs carved into the wall, as well as hanging nets and wooden objects hanging on ropes from the top of the room. The floor was littered with large fabric-covered objects, as well as a few plants. I left this room, not understanding its purpose from the first glance at all. Across from this room was another, one that’s walls were lined with shelves and cabinets. In the middle of the room was a table with two chairs, and seated at one of these chairs was a being that I had never thought I would see again. Nor did I want to. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” The green and black Matoran called to me. His clawed feet were resting on the table, and he had a book in his hand. 

“I thought you were dead, Matoran.” I grunted to Vican, “Or at least, not a Shadow Matoran anymore.” 

“Yeah, I talked to your guys about it. So did Radiak, Kirop, and Gavla. We wanted to be Shadow Matoran again.” 

“And why in Mata Nui’s name would you want that?” I questioned. 

“Well, Gavla was on to something I guess.” Vican admitted, “Being a normal Matoran was okay. Following a set pattern that every Matoran before or after you does as well. Walking in footsteps that everyone else walked in. It was safe. It was secure. It was what we were made for. Then, you and your Shadow Leeches destroyed that. The creatures we became destroyed those footsteps and carved out our own wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted. We cared for nothing. We didn’t stare at our brothers and try to be just like them anymore. We laughed at our brothers, the normal Matoran, and called them mindless drones. Of course, we were afraid after our initial transformation, and we were so busy trying to figure out how to get rid of it, that we never embraced it. I found myself, time and time again, wandering out into the woods more and more. Kirop, Gavla, Radiak, I found that they all thought the same way I did. We needed to get out more and more, we needed to get away from the other Matoran. We could barely stand that droning, repetitive work anymore. We could hardly stand the way the other Matoran barely cast eachother a second glance. The Toa, they noticed. They tried to get us to stop leaving the villages, but that just made us want to run away more. It wasn’t all about Unity, Duty, or Destiny anymore. It was something more...” He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He rested his book on the table and leaned back.

“That’s when we found out that the Makuta had returned. Of course, we were skeptical. We wanted to be free, but not villains. I already felt bad enough, knowing that I had willingly worked for the bad guys. 

 It was Gavla who began to study them. One day, she was out watching them, and Vamprah caught her. He questioned her, but he could see the want in her eyes. The next day, I awoke from my hovel to cries of shock. I stepped outside to see the crowd in the streets. In the center of that crowd, drawing all of the attention, was Gavla herself, baring black and blue armour, bat-like wings, fangs, and claws. 

 ‘Vican, look! They’re not evil! They want to help us!’ She cried. All of the other Matoran looked to her in disgust. They spat at her, called her a traitor, but she was not fazed. She didn’t pay any attention to them. Her eyes were planted on mine, and her hand was outstretched to me. I walked through the crowd, the cries of the Matoran fading away to me. I was returning to my true calling.” 

He sat back, resting his head back, “I’ve been a Shadow Matoran ever since. I must say, I love it. I’m not evil. I don’t hurt the Matoran, and neither do the Makuta. On purpose, anyway. There’s no ‘evil brotherhood’ or ‘plan to destroy the world’ anymore. Just raw, free, animalistic power.” 

“I see.” I grunted. I could not believe that I had actually paid attention to that Matoran’s story. I thought I had not, but every time I think back on it, I can remember every word. 

“Well then, as you have explained your return, we must now waste time no further. Get to the lab and-” 

Vican held up a hand, assumingly attempting to cut me off. I ignored it and continued to speak, “make sure that everything is ready and-” Vican shot a shadow bolt at me. I hissed and drew back a clawed hand to strike him, but he stood and held out his hand, mechanically quoting the Toa of water’s words, “You are banned from harming your companion, escaping before your due time, attempting to kill yourself, or coming up with anymore ‘world taking-over’ plans during your imprisonment. Failure to abide by the rules will result in- well, you know the rest.” 

“You are my companion?” I grunted in disgust. 

“Yep!” He chirped, rather excitedly. He held out a closed fist, but I knew not how to retaliate. 

“Fist to fist. It's a Matoran greeting.” He told me in a rather sarcastic tone. 

“I will use no Matoran greetings.” I replied. 

“Whatever.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“As long as you are imprisoned with me, you shall treat me with respect.” I snarled. 

Vican laughed, “I’m not imprisoned with you, and I can treat you however I like. If-what ever put us in here- thinks that you are being too hostile to me, they told me they’d remove me and return you to your punishment. I’m not here to serve you, Mutran. You opened my eyes to freethinking, even if I did have to serve you. Now, I’m going to open your eyes to friendship.” 

“I do not require friendship.” I retorted, “Furthermore, you stupid Matoran know nothing about the ways and mentality of Makuta. How do you expect to teach me?” 

The Matoran held up his book. “This here is a basic guide to the physical needs and requirements of Makuta, as written by one of the first sapient ones, apparently. According to this book, Makuta require to be able to be in the general hearing distance of at least one other Makuta in their leisurely times, or their psyche can be damaged.” 

“Then why am I here with you, Matoran?” I questioned, annoyed at the Order’s flaw. 

“First of all, I’m the closest thing to Makuta that you are going to get. Shadow Matoran grant a similar effect to Makuta- and have a similar need. Second of all, I think we all kinda need your psyche damaged a bit.” He chuckled. I did not like the show of disrespect, but I was to live with it. 

Our conversation was interrupted by an odd growling noise. I had not been made formerly aware that we would be sharing our prison with a third being. I looked around in shock, but saw nothing else. Whatever it was that had snarled was quietly and carefully watching us. 

“What’s up?” Vican asked, confused. 

“What else is here with us?” I questioned. 

“It’s just me and you.” He replied. 

“I heard a growl. Something else is here.” 

Vican chuckled. “Stop for a moment, my newly living friend. How do you currently feel?” 

I stopped and thought back on my own body. My abdomen was still aching immensely, and I felt rather physically weak. The bandages wrapped around my arms caused a strange uncomfortable feeling to my forearms, and my joints still ached. I shared the information of my maladies with the Shadow Matoran. 

“Well, first of all, let’s deal with that feeling in your forearms, shall we?” Vican reached to my arms and pulled the bandages off. My arms were covered in ugly looking scars.  

“My armour heals itself?” I asked, startled. Vican nodded and, seeing my own temporarily uselessly short claws, he began to lightly scratch my forearms. 

“Your body is alive now.” He explained to me. “I was told that you would not be used to that. It’s no wonder that you liked killing things; you couldn’t empathize with their life. Anyway, you’ve got nerves and, as you have already seen, blood now.” 

As he began to scratch my forearms where the bandages had been, the discomfort dissipated.  

“Nerves get irritated, and when they do, they itch. Scratching them lightly usually fixes that.” I could see a humour in his eyes as he talked. He thought that this was funny.  

“That aching in your abdomen is hunger. I guess you haven’t felt that in a while either.” He went on. He walked to one of the cabinets and pulled out an indiscernible red object.

“Don’t feel bad, because this one is new to me too. We can’t just absorb energy anymore, even Matoran were changed there. There isn’t a Mata Nui to make energy for us anymore, so our bodies have all been fixed to make our own energy. You do that by putting things like this meat in your mouth and chewing it and swallowing it.” 

I grunted. I wished not to partake in such a disgusting action. Despite my disgust, the feeling in my abdomen was persistent. Hesitantly, I took the slab of meat and put it in my mouth. It had a rather delicious taste. As soon as I had finished ingesting it, some of the pain in my abdomen lessened. I also felt some of my strength return to me. 

“You’re a big fella, so I guess you’d still be hungry.” Vican noted. He fetched some more meat for me, and I all but swallowed it as soon as I got my hands on it. 

After the meal, I was feeling much better. The pain in my abdomen was gone, and I felt much more energy. However, my joints were still aching. After I told Vican, he led me to the large room with the high ceiling. 

“Problem number three of being alive: You need exercise.” Vican told me. “Do whatever you want in here. Fly around, play on the nets and ropes and ledges. Go wild.” 

“I do not ‘go wild’. Nor do I ‘play’.” I snarled. Vican shrugged and flew off into the room. He hung on one of the hanging nets and began to swing around, obviously entertained. I decided to stretch my wings and fly around, but I refused to entertain myself in the fashion that Vican was doing so.

I decided to leave the room after the quick flight and check out the lab. It was filled with many Viruses, and even some I had never seen before. Unfortunately, they were all rather weak viruses, and nothing that I could use to make any dangerous Rahi.  

By the time my Makuta brothers had arrived to pick me up, quite a long time later, I was much more accustomed to living. I had learned also of my need to sleep, found an odd urge to make a nest in the exercise room, learned how to groom myself in the vat in the smaller room (I had learned that the room was called a “Bathroom” and that the vat was called a “Bathtub”). This became necessary after I found that my new body does something called “sweat”, which can cause a powerful odor. I also learned how to expel waste into the strange bowl-like object in there, which Vican had referred to as a “Toilet”. 

It has been quite some time since that day I woke up in that prison, and I have gotten quite used to my living form. I learned that the fresher meat is, the tastier and more filling it is. I have also learned how to tease my prey before killing it, for the fear scent administered by hunted prey is quite strengthening (However, frightening an animal too much causes it to soil itself, the scent of which ruins the meat!) I believe we are meant to be strengthened by this fear scent to help us gain a quick burst of energy in order to down prey. 

Since the day I was put in that prison, I learned of many other physical and emotional feelings not before crossing my mind. Time that I am not spending resting, eating, or exercising, is spent acting in social behavior with my fellow Makuta, something I would have never done before.

I have said long before, but I never truly understood the sentiment until now-

It is good to be alive.

[cha5otic]

Random thought 1: What if the energy blast from the heart of the GSR is just the reactivation noise made by the Great Beings but they never adjusted it for the Matoran Universe hearing level since they never take into account entities roaming around very near the Codrex

Random thought 2: Since the heart of the GSR was essentially a swamp, some Great beings thought it would be funny to make it Shrek-related

So it'd be like:

SOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME- (BASS BOOSTED)

The Makutas, being vaporized:

A̡̛͇ͣͨ̆̐̉̀A̶̷̦͙̻͇̯̰̝͈̞̋҉U̶̮̞̮̻̼̫ͦ̕A̵̭͈̤͈̞͉̼̙͐̊͒ͨ̈́͏͝U͇͓̣̜͉̦͛ͣͅA̵̢̘̬̬̬̣̘̭͇̹̰̦ͥ̌̓̆͌͆̕A͓A̰͇̰̝̳̮͙͈̦̽ͩ̀ͩ͋̍͂G̞̝̯̎ͬͥ̃ͥ̏̎̀͟H͙̮̱̭͚̤̆ͦ̃̈̑̿͜A̴͇͉̼̪̰̣ͥ̅̉҉̸Ṳ̫̥̳̲͕̗̱̏̾ͩͮ͝ͅͅA̡͙͒̎̄̓̉͂͐Ḧ̥̮̲̥͕ͦͫ̂ͅA͔̭̱̱͈̪̙͔͙ͤ͊̇͞Ú̟̖̳̳͘U̴̡̧̩̻̜͎̝͙̬̱͉ͨ̎U̝̣̗̞̱̓͗̌̅́͐͗ͪͭU̗͙̝̪̗̺̖̞̣̱̽͛͐͜͞͠G̡͍̱͚̙̩̝̓̎͟͠H͕̫̲̻͈̤͙̗̆̄̈́̆̆̾͌H̶̨̗̲̞͙̭̺͓̣͖̒̒H̵͚̲̲̪̟̲͈͍̥ͥͬ̆̍H̺̟̫̱́̆́̊́H̯͕̪̬͙͂́̏̌̔͐͑͑̐͜͟

[outofgloom]

Glad you enjoyed! Some behind the scenes details below:

The big "split" for this timeline, in my mind, is that Makuta successfully acquired the Vahi from Vakama at the end of Time Trap (i.e. "What would've happened if Krakua DIDN'T send a message to the past?"). This enabled Makuta to alter time in the Core Processor and precisely calibrate the moment of Mata Nui's death, rather than delaying for 1000 years.

(1) No Takanuva in this timeline. The Toa Metru took the Avohkii with them to Mata Nui, but when Vakama did not return, the Metru descended again to find him. By this time, Makuta had returned to Mangaia, and the five Metru were quickly overcome by his forces, including the Rahkshi. Takua likely became a Bohrok with the rest (all Av-Matoran were converted in the first wave of the Signal, non-Av-Matoran were converted in subsequent waves).

(2) Not sure about the status of the Toa Mata--they definitely didn't become Nuva though. I think they may have launched and arrived in Metru Nui on time, but were intercepted by Makuta and sent to retrieve the Mask of Life (i.e. no Toa Inika in this timeline). They successfully revived the GSR and awakened the Great Spirit/Makuta in the intended way (by pooling some of their Toa Power in the Codrex). They then entered stasis in the Codrex again as the storms in Karda Nui restarted, and likely remained there.

(3) Teridax traveled to Bara Magna and began to search for the Great Beings effectively uncontested. The GBs realized that their plans for reforming the planet had failed, and so activated every failsafe they had against the GSR, turning the majority of his internal workforce against him (kinda like having your immune microbes, gut microbes, etc. all converted into flesh-eating bacteria).

(4) No Light Teridax in this reality, although Helryx may have encountered that timeline.

THE TOOLS WE HAVE

He was back. The room spun, and he heard, rather than saw, the worm-like creature slough away and plop into the water of the nearby pool. Then he was very, very sick...

When it was over, he raised himself shakily and checked the interface suspended above him. The six brains glowed faintly, and the six Matoran bodies attached to them remained motionless, as still and unmoving as they had been since the Signal crossed the universe and worked its terrible transformations, however long ago that’d been. There were no more days or years since the sky had been taken apart, so it was hard to keep track.

The various linkages of the interface seemed unphased, which was more than he had expected. He steadied himself against another wave of dizziness. His mind felt…bloated…expanded, worse than normal telepathy. Helryx had mentioned side-effects…the toll of “transtemporal projection”. She was one to know, of course.

Aside from that, everything had gone according to plan. He’d conveyed the information that Helryx had provided, as best he could. The Matoran that he had addressed…the Matoran had been strange—confused at first, but seeming to understand by the end. Afterward, he’d successfully pulled himself back, though the effort had been greater than expected.

Was it enough? How would he know? Even Helryx hadn’t been sure. The fact that he was still here, in this chamber, still in continuity with past thoughts…Did that mean he had failed? Would he even recognize success? The changes might be subtle...

He looked around. The chamber looked no different than before. He placed a hand against the cool stone of the floor and sent out a sonar pulse into the substructure. Mostly intact, no new incursions, although the ominous microtremors were still there, as always.

Unsatisfied, he stood and crossed to the long row of masks embedded in the wall nearby. He removed an Akaku and an Iden and placed them on the faces of two of the inactive Matoran. He tried not to look at them for too long. It still disturbed him to see them this way, even after all this time. His sensitive hearing registered the ever-so-slight shift and rasp of their autonomic breathing.

“Get used to it,” Helryx had told him time and again. “We work with the tools we have. If you succeed, you can have all the stimulating conversations with them that I’m sure you would’ve had otherwise. I never found Ce-Matoran to be particularly good talkers myself…”

Krakua wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to it.

The interface hummed ready. He stooped and positioned himself in the center again, and the six brains glowed in a circle above him like a living Suva. Eyes closed, he exhaled and activated his own Suletu.

Suletu into Iden. Up through the stones of the fortress his consciousness projected, broadened, then coalesced. He was in open air, hovering just above the central column. Into Akaku, he swept the interior rooms briefly from above. All as expected. The many defenses continued to be manned by his forces. No change.

Now he moved his mind-spirit out to the ramparts and brought the telescopic components of the Akaku online. The dense protosteel walls went transparent, and he looked beyond:

Dry oceanbed greeted him, but that was nothing new. He had hoped...but no. In all directions the waste spread from what had once been the shores of the fortress island. His fortress, now. The ocean floor was eaten into numerous holes and channels, all the way to the smoke-filled horizon. The Swarm appeared to be focusing its efforts elsewhere for the time being. He glanced up at the sky, or what once had been sky—now a mixture of jagged gaps and fitful flickering lights. It was a strange, broken thing, and beyond his sky there was another sky. More alien, with a single great light burning down.

He remembered when the Swarm had started to eat the sky, and the stars had gone out one by one. That was when he’d known for sure that the world was over.

He had not felt that way when the first Cataclysm had struck the universe, and they all learned that the Great Spirit had been deposed by a treacherous Makuta named Teridax, nor even when the second Cataclysm followed, and the seers said that the Makuta was contending with the Great Beings themselves.

Even when the Swarms had appeared from every hollow and deep crevasse, and the strange Signal washed across the universe, converting every Matoran it reached into a servant of the Swarm, into a destroyer...he had not yet given up hope. Everyone he had sworn to protect, gone. All but the Ce-Matoran, whose minds were different, and who instead were simply hollowed out by the Signal and left empty. The seers cried that the Great Beings had cursed the universe for the crimes of the Makuta, and had sent their robotic servants to accomplish one last terrible Duty: to eat the world into Nothing.

Even then he had not fully despaired. But the sound of the world being unlidded: a deep, unnatural groaning noise that shook the atmosphere and went down into his innermost ears, into his bones…That had been the moment. There was no going back.

But Helryx had another plan. A backup plan. She always did.

The interface powered down as he reinstalled himself into his own body. He sat motionless, letting the seconds beat by. Nothing outside had changed, as far as he could tell. After all the battle and desperate strategy, all the effort, the sacrifices and pain, all the millennia of preparation…he had hoped that it would be enough, that he would not have to—

The ground shook slightly, enough to ripple the water of the dark pool. Suddenly there was a squat figure in the doorway at the other end of the chamber. Two icy-blue eyes stared at him from beneath a domed faceplate. It was one of his. It chkt'd at him in its ugly way, and he understood it—he had by now become adept at communicating with the creatures via their sound-frequencies.

“INCOMING INCURSION. NORTHERNMOST HEXTANT, BELOW,” it chkt’d.

He’d been the only Toa of Sonics in existence when the second Cataclysm arrived, and that made him uniquely suited to combat the Swarm. He was able to confuse their command-structure, deactivating individual units entirely or even turning them to his own will.

“RETURN TO COMPLEMENT,” he chkt’d in reply. “INTERCEPT AND DIVERT.”

The swarm-unit acknowledged his command and swiveled to go. Another tremor went through the floor as it did so, and for a moment it teetered, off-balance.

“Careful, Mazek—” he began to say involuntarily, but stopped. Helryx’s words drilled into him. They are gone. Their names are gone. He fought back a tide of memories, memories of a Ko-Matoran, a friend…the accursed Signal ringing in their ears—unexpected, too fast for him to neutralize it with his own counter-vibration—of the painful sound of limbs buckling and stretching, of armor fusing here and splitting there, of a voice pleading for help, pleading as the vocal tract deformed and the words distorted, and the eyes elongated into slits, still icy-blue.

Disconnecting it from the rest of the Swarm had been the only mercy he could give. They are gone. Shut it out.

No, he would never get used to it, not even after ten thousand years.

The swarm-unit had left. He sighed, resigned at last to what he must do. He removed the Iden and Akaku from the interface and re-cycled the system, checking the attachments on the Masks of Truth, Translation, and Helryx’s own Mask of Psychometry once again.

Next, he retrieved a stack of tablets from a nearby table. They were covered with writing and calculations: Helryx's logs. He waved to the far wall, and the door of the vault opened with a hiss. The chamber beyond was cold and damp, green-tinged, and filled from top to bottom with hundreds of small tubes.

And in each one there was a worm.

He surveyed the result of their centuries-long hunt through the wreckage of the world. The Order had known for some time that the transtemporal memory encoded in the nascent minds of the creatures could be used to reconnect to moments in the past, but never to change those moments. Not until Helryx’s research, and the creation of the interface.

He consulted the tablets again, tracing along the carefully organized shelves. He would have to select another specimen, target the right moment, and communicate the right message, but which to choose? Helryx had been unsure if a sequence was required, even with all her years of traversing alternate dimensions and spying on different timelines using the last remaining Olmak.

For his first attempt, just minutes ago, he had used the one that Helryx deemed to have the broadest potential: a specimen that had attached itself to a single Matoran prior to either of the cataclysms. The messages he had transmitted were obscure, something about the importance of “lightning” and “six heroes”. That was as much as he could transmit through the link.

It was odd, though. The Matoran had not responded to the name Helryx had listed. It insisted its name was something else, something starting with a “V”. He couldn't recall. Hopefully it wasn't vital. The target had been located in an important place, after all—very close to the Core. Surely it had been the right Po-Matoran...

What next? The logs offered many options. A number of specimens had apparently interacted with the Makuta Teridax himself at one point, but such direct interference seemed unlikely to succeed. Another of the worms had apparently linked itself to an ancient entity called Tren Krom at least forty millennia before the cataclysms. There might be an opportunity there, yes…

He pulled down the canister containing that specific worm and tucked it under his arm, returning to the main chamber. There was another shudder in the ground, and the stasis tubes clinked and jostled as he moved to the interface, preparing to unseal the tube.

Something stirred in the doorway on the far side of the chamber—another of his swarm-units, or one of the lesser couriers he’d peeled off. He chkt'd to dismiss it without looking, too absorbed in his task.

“The Manutri chirps its greeting,” a voice said, “but the icehawk is earless and cannot hear. It dives for the kill. Who is the greater fool?”

Krakua’s eyes snapped upward. It was a Matoran—bent and ill-shaped—standing across the room from him, examining the interface with sharp eyes.

“Who—?”

Another tremor shook the fortress. Harder this time. His forces must have engaged with the latest incursion below ground. The Matoran moved into the room. A Po-Matoran. A familiar mask. Krakua stared. For a split second, he thought he might be hallucinating. His mind still had that bloated feeling. It was possible...

“I take it that, from your perspective, we have only just spoken,” the Matoran said, stepping into the room. “For me, it’s been a little longer, but here I am.”

Krakua finally found his words: “How are you not…not…”

“Not part of the Swarm, like the rest? When the fields of Flameleaf dissolve each season and must be replanted, the hardier Firevine is exposed, for it does not melt. But that’s not really important, is it?”

It was relief that he was feeling. Relief like pain, washing over him. He felt his legs go weak. He hadn’t had a real conversation for such a long time. It was difficult to formulate his thoughts aloud.

“I thought…I thought nothing had changed,” he stammered. “Thought the message didn’t work. I can’t believe it.”

“Well...” The face of the Matoran now grew flat and serious. “You’d better get over that quick. I’ve had time to consider this plan of yours, messy though it is. You’ve at least done most of the legwork, I see.” The Matoran motioned to the open vault.

Krakua nodded slowly, still feeling a little dazed.

“First,” the Matoran continued, “you can put back that worm you’re holding. It’s the wrong one—the markings are off. We’re looking for a specimen from Metru Nui, around the time of the first Cataclysm. You have this, yes?”

“Metru Nui…” Krakua set the tube down and focused his attention, sorting through the tablets he still held. “Yes, here. I dredged the specimen from the ruins of the city outskirts, but Helryx classified it as ‘minimal impact’.”

“Did she? How disappointing. No matter. There is a Toa in the city who will need some special...encouragement, I think. And then…then we’ll see what happens.”

“Encouragement? There’s nothing about that in the notes…I wouldn’t even know where to start...”

“Encouragement was never her strong suit, I suppose. Well, I'm sure your mentor did her best, but this may have been a little beyond her expertise. Where is she, by the way? I thought she would be here.”

Krakua blinked. “She…The last time…she never came back.”

“Encouraging.”

“She was probably just delayed. Time runs differently on other planes. Or maybe—”

“Or maybe not.” The Matoran shrugged dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll work with the tools we have...”

The tools we have. Krakua’s gaze wandered to the interface as the Matoran spoke. The masks stared back at him. The eyes were open, glowing but empty.

“...And we’ll have to get a bit more creative with our messages,” the Matoran was saying. “We can do better than...whatever it was you relayed to me back then.”

The floor trembled again, just a little. By the feel of it, he could tell that his forces had been successful in deflecting the incursion. His tools...They'd report in soon.

They are gone. Their names are gone. But if you succeed...

Krakua shook himself. The Matoran was looking at him expectantly. “Well, uh...the messages have to be simple,” he said. “Otherwise the disturbance is too great, and the timeline splits.”

“Of course. Basic causality.”

“And they have to be cryptic as well—not too easy for the target to comprehend immediately, but still decipherable at the right moment.”

“You don’t say.”

“That’s the hardest part, really. Helryx hated it, and I was never any good at riddles...”

Velika smiled.

[randomwriteronline]

"Pohatu!"

Huh.

Lewa sounds... Worried?

Something must have happened. Hopefully it wasn't a Makuta attack. It'd be weird if neither Krika nor Pohatu were there to fight with their siblings - although the Toa have no reason to believe their brother of Stone has any business with the Brotherhood beyond knocking their masks into the bog water with a roundhouse kick, so really there's nothing to worry about. If he mentions he met a Makuta they'll likely assume he simply came across one and was briefly busied with not being pummelled into protodermis hummus against the nearest tree.

He touches down bouncing once, twice, to slow his momentum before he comes too close to that coward's trap; his Le-brother lunges for him to wrap his arms tight around his neck in a nearly suffocating hug.

His own limbs encircle the other's back in a lukewarm embrace, half stunned, half puzzled.

Alright. Something has happened.

The question now is, frustratingly: what, exactly?

"Where have you been?" Onua, for once, is quicker than him and gets to ask first. He sounds almost... distraught.

Pohatu turns to him with the unpleasant feeling of being in the dark about something squirming familiarly around his heartlight: "Swamp?" he replies a little dumbly pointing behind himself. "There aren't that many places to be down here, I met a big bugger-"

"All these years?" Gali continues. She is not talking about the swamp. She is worried, heartbreakingly worried, just as much as her brothers. "What happened to you? Where were you?"

Kopaka says nothing, but he looks at him. His eyes seem guilty.

Pohatu looks back at him in earnest confusion.

"The Codrex," Tahu visibly struggles as he searches for the correct string of words in his choked up throat for a moment, torn between reaching out with his hand and holding back.

The fog clears instantly.

"You weren't in the Codrex," he tries. "You weren't with--"

Pohatu shoves Lewa off of himself with a stiff thoughtless movement: "Ah," he says. "Good."

The other five blank.

Something shifts in the world around them and tilts it all askew, paints the air with a strange imperceptible color that makes their heads light, their footing unstable, their eyes unfocused. Their Stone brother is the same - his silhouette has been changed by the adaptive armor but he looks the same, they recognize him, they know him, right? He is still their sibling, he is still the same, the exact same, in his usual body with his usual gaze and his usual voice, but then why - why does this Toa look nothing like him?

Tahu flinches when his shoulder is grasped.

"Do you remember the energy storm?" Pohatu asks, sounding the exact same and yet completely, impossibly, horribly different.

"What?"

"Do you remember the energy storm?"

"Pohatu, I - you - where, how did you-?"

"The energy storm, do you remember it?"

"You weren't with us, all this time- how did you get to-"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

They recoil.

Pohatu doesn't shout like that. Pohatu doesn't speak like that, quick and far too straight to the point. Pohatu doesn't grind his fingers that hard into what little of a shoulder a piece of armor might expose. Pohatu doesn't stare that harshly. Pohatu isn't that furious.

"The energy storm!" he insists, snarling - Pohatu doesn't snarl - "Do you remember that!"

"Yes," Tahu spits out.

"Good!" and his tendons hurts when they are released.

Pohatu doesn't stand like that. Pohatu doesn't look at his siblings like that - with a growling scowl so sour it almost makes their stomachs twist. Pohatu doesn't look like Takanuva does since a shadow leech bit him, he doesn't look like the Shadow Matoran, he just looks like himself; but Pohatu doesn't act like that.

He gives them all a quick glance, looking for confirmation on their faces beyond the stunned concern. The storm's mention and his cold eyes seem to do the trick as he catches small affirmations.

"Call it a feeling or a hunch or what you will, but something tells me there's going be another one coming down soon," he tells them with that voice that is his own yet doesn't sound like him - to them, at least, because they had yet to hear this facet of it which he's allowed to stew silently with the rest of his bitter fury. "And it'll turn Karda Nui into a nice big open air common grave, if you five keep sitting around this chunk of metal waiting for our little siblings to get fried out of the air like Nui-Rama."

The information takes a moment to sink in.

He watches their eyes widen, understanding dawning within them. They know now as they knew then what an energy storm is, what it means, the destruction it brings.

They begin speaking, they ask him how he knows - he answers harshly, flippantly, relishing in how they wince back as if stung or bitten each time he responds to their kind tones with hisses and growls that are so deeply wrong to their audio receptors - they start planning, and he retains no information whatsoever of whatever Tahu starts prattling about (a strategy, of course, because he is the leader, and a leader makes strategies and plans escapes and runs away when the ship begins sinking) because he sees his foot shift, he sees his hand beckon the rest of them towards him, he sees him make his way toward the inside of the Codrex, and white hot rage bursts out of him in a shout that he can't hear himself.

He can only tell he's shouted because his body is tense as it leanse forward, his lungs are empty, and his disgustingly spineless siblings are shaken and terrified as they turn to him.

He's not letting them escape on their own this time.

"None of you will be doing anything until we get the Matoran out of here!" he roars again. "Especially getting into that thing!"

"It could hold answers - helpful tools," Onua speaks in his warm enveloping tone. A hand reaches out for him, to soothe him, to try and calm him, return him to his normal self--

He's swatted away sharply, so hard that his wrist hurts.

His brother glares venomously: "It doesn't," he decides snapping back at him, "You're just trying to escape again, aren't you?"

"Again?"

"Don't play dumb with me! You said you remembered!"

"But it wasn't--"

"We're doing it my way this time! And you'll better comply or upon the name of the Great Spirit I swear I'll crack that infernal machine open like a Pokawi egg if you try to set a single foot in it!"

"Pohatu!"

He has no idea who is speaking: the voices and masks and colors melt together, his head spins, the heat of his anger turns his thoughts into a tangled mess that starts wrapping tight around his lungs to squeeze every breath of air out of him; so he flies away, diving briefly into the swamp, terribly close to the water, before rising back up along one of the trees, towards the stalactites.

(Somewhere far away a chunk of stalagmite blows up, scaring the wits out of Bitil. As his heartlight flashes madly the Makuta curses the Toa of Stone under his breath.)

Someone calls for him.

He ignores them and continues flying.

He's so furious that he nearly crashes through the branches.

A sense of nausea builds up in his throat like vomit.

The voice reaches him, shouting his name almost right in his audio receptor: his arm is grasped, wrenched up, his body unbalanced and turned upside down. He twists in the air aimlessly for a few seconds before he manages to stabilize himself again and regain his bearings enough to search for whoever jumped him.

Gali floats slightly above him, her eyes disbelieving and hard behind her mask: "What is happening?" she demands to know.

Pohatu glares at her. Then, out of nowhere, his brows unfurrow, his face softens, he breaks into his easygoing smile: "Nothing," he blatantly lies with his playful tone and no intention of masking his rage nor his sarcasm behind it, "Nothing ever happens. Didn't you know that, sister? This afternoon we're going to have a tea party with the Makuta and wait for the energy storm to decide the air is a bit too brisk to come down this week, and then tomorrow we'll all attend a nice Kohlii match the Av-Matoran are setting up with the Piraka as the referees."

"Stop it!" she shouts. His little show unsettles her immensely, and the fact only makes him glad. "What's happening to you?"

He laughs: "Nothing, I told you," and he does a little loop to keep from shattering a fallen stalactite in half, "Nothing ever happens to me! Why would anything happen to me?"

It scares her even more. "I said stop it! You're not like this!"

Oh, he isn't?

He isn't like this?

If she knew. If only she knew.

She would hate him as much as he hates her again.

"What's wrong with you, brother?" she cries. She really does sound like she's going to sob. "What happened to you? What is making you act like this?"

Oh, but didn't she say she remembered?

Didn't they say they remembered?

Liars. Liars. Liars. The bile surges back to cover his eyes, to coat his mouth with its horrid taste. He can barely breathe.

"Nothing!"

"It can't be 'nothing'!"

"I said, it's nothing!"

"Pohatu, please!"

He thinks of driving his hand right through her heartlight.

Gali watches her brother stutter, suddenly frightened by something she cannot see nor hear not imagine, she watches him lose height for only a moment in which he seems to plummet into the bog below: before she can fly down to his rescue he spins up again, twirling away from her. She follows his trajectory until he lands, heavy and tired, on a sturdy enough branch.

He hears her touch down a few steps away from him much more gracefully. Keeping his eyes shut at least spares him from having to look at her.

He is a Toa. He has a code to follow. Even when it's hard.

Even when it would make it all so much simpler.

Even when it would be so deserved.

But he is a Toa.

Not a Bohrok.

Not a Rahkshi.

A Toa.

And he doesn't want to kill.

"Pohatu," she calls again, so gentle, so sweet. Her hand sits on his shoulder, pulls away slightly when he flinches at the contact, lays once more with an even lighter weight. "Brother, I'm begging you. Speak to me. Share what hurts you."

You know exactly what it is, sister.

All of you do, and you pretend otherwise.

You left me. You planned your escape and went through with it.

You left me to do the work of six Toa alone because you were too scared of dying like the Matoran you didn't care for.

It was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it? It must have been. Otherwise it makes no sense. I was never part of your escape either, was I now. Because I was never as good as any of you.

You left me. You left me, and you planned to leave me. You didn't tell me anything. You didn't care if I would have looked for you while I was dying. You didn't care if our little brothers would have called for you. You left us all to die and you planned for it. From the start.

You disgust me. You left me. You left me. You left me.

"I'm worried," he says, because that too is true.

Gali's arms embrace him kindly, pushing his head to lay on her shoulder. He'll let her believe the shiver that courses through him is out of a need for comfort instead of repulsion.

"We'll get them all to safety," she whispers. Her tone is soft, almost lulling him to sleep.

"When?" he asks. He feels so tired. "Is there even enough time?"

"There will be," his sister reassures him as her hand cradles his nape. "I promise they'll all be on their way to Metru Nui before the storm can start forming. We'll make sure of that. Me, our brothers, and you. United, it won't take long."

It wouldn't have taken long back then either, he thinks, but the bite in his thoughts is too weak to voice them. He is so tired. So exhausted from his anger. Gali is so comfortable. So kind.

It's a trick.

It's all a trick.

He has to remember that.

Anger helps him remember that.

His siblings hate him.

It's all a trick.

Just a trick.

The stuttering sound of a pair of rockets approching them has his sister turn slightly. Her grasp on him loosens, and he pries himself away from her hold despite some traitorous speck of his mind begging to be allowed to lean on her. It's a trick, he chastises it as he finally opens his eyes to see who's coming: just another dirty trick.

Lewa touches down almost next to them, jittery and anxious. He looks at Pohatu with a certain fear behind the goggles of his mask.

His brother replies to his frightened gaze with silence.

He and Gali speak - of what, Pohatu can't tell. He's so tired. When at last he forces himself to be mentally present to the conversation, it seems they have reached an agreement.

"I will reassure our brothers, then," she says. "We'll be there to help you before you know it."

"Heartthanks, Watersister," Lewa nods relieved.

They watch her disappear downwards again. So it seems they will be handling the first few evacuations on their own, and then the others will join them.

It's good to see they have a bigger sense of duty than they used to.

Or at least, that his rage scares them more than death.

Fingers grab him before he can lift off, in an unsteady grip: "Pohatu," his brother calls with a trembling voice.

When he turns to finally face him fully, Lewa looks at him no different than he did when he first arrived on the branch: frightened, concerned, jittering. He grasps his forearm with both hands, like he's afraid he'll slip away from him.

"We need to go," Pohatu tells him simply. He is so tired.

"You," his brother begins softly, but it takes him another moment to word his thoughts properly: "You... How... Are you?"

"Tired."

"Are there - offvoices, like the mindkraana, in--"

"I am just tired. Let's go."

He winces hard at the harsh words, but he holds onto him still: "Stonebrother - you were... You weren't with us. In..."

"I wasn't. Let's go."

"Wait - wait, please..."

He sighs. He feels so tired. So tired. Why is he so tired.

"If you weren't... If you..." Lewa struggles. He is deeply worried. For him. "Where... What... Happened, to you? During all this time?"

His legs ache and twitch to kick him off this blasted branch. His body screams at him to knee the Air Toa in the torso hard enough to cave his armor into his lungs.

But the building bitterness hemorrhaging from his every joint after he allowed his tightly compressed rage to blow out of him is eroding his strength the more poisonous it becomes instead of fueling him as it has so diligently done for the past one hundred thousand years, and he is so tired.

"Now isn't the time to talk about this," he snaps.

"But it will be?" his brother insists.

He is so, so, so tired.

"Later." he concedes. "Once all this is done."

"Heartpromise?"

Somehow, he manages to fake a convincing smile: "Heartpromise."

Lewa smiles back at him, heartlight a little lighter.

They lift off together.

[nameshifter]

Teridax’ call

“Matoran of Karda Nui, hear my words!”

“A creature of great power and anger had been discovered by a loyal scientist of the Brotherhood of Makuta. I do not know what had happened to the brother of mine that went on the expedition, but he did not return back whole. His sight was gone, his sanity shattered like a flawed kanohi mask, and his strive for innovation had been replaced by cruelty unlike any that I had witnessed!“

“The Brotherhood’s Scientist brought agony to the island of Destral, turning the Makuta race into a cult of worshipers of a lesser spirit, and killing anyone who stood in his way. He listened to no reason or plea, and when the brotherhood’s greatest warriors resorted to force, his anger came crashing down like myriads of head-crushing thoughts, destroying my home and slaughtering my people.“

“Mutran, my dear brother, brought great madness upon Destral, and I know he’s not going to stop there. His darkness will spread into the core of the universe, your home, little ones. Which is why my only choice was to escape. I had abandoned my brothers and sisters to die in hopeless battle in order to protect the universe. There are others of my kind still alive and unconverted, but they are few and I have failed to reach out to them, meaning we’re on our own.“

“Which is why I have gathered you here. Matoran of light, you are destined to become the heroes that shall stop the plague that enveloped my brother and is spreading throughout the Matoran Universe, and I, Leutenant Teridax, will be the shadow to guide your way to the brightest future imaginable!“

Hi

Hans again. Niels and I hadn’t had enough playing around with the concept of Tren Krom turning Mutran insane and following the path of When Our Bodies Wash Ashore characters, and Niels just happen to draw a Toa version of Solek the other day, so I decided to imagine some scenario where the two scenarios could clash together. So I came up with a bit of a story for Teridax, being forced away from his home by Mutran, and only being able to find sanctuary in a place of Light - Karda Nui, where he gathers a force to hopefully fight Mutran. Hope you like it :D

[thereadingaddic7]

Do you think the Toa Nuva eventually remembered what happened in Karda Nui the first time around? Did Gali realize that Tahu had lied to her in the Codrex, did Kopaka suddenly remember his culpability in the team loosing 100,000 years of their lives trapped in the cannisters? What about Lewa, he did say that he was going to have words with Tahu when they woke up. Would he still follow through with that?

[whiteheartlight]

honestly Tahu has been poisoned by two Rahkshi within the same week, briefly subjected to a kraana, stabbed through by what was essentially a swarm of bees, walloped by Brutaka with the others and then forced to drain all of his elemental energy, thrown from the Codrex so hard he was knocked unconscious even while inside his shield bubble, drained of his energy by a Makuta while lying in swamp mud, nearly killed by the Mask of Life, and made to collapse when Ignika needed to talk to him in his dreams asap. and he was badly injured by Teridax? what would happen to this Toa if he DIDN'T have a Mask of Shielding?

do you think he chides Lewa for taking risks that could get him hurt and the others just all turn around and look at him

remembering that Takanuva writes in his journal that Tahu is seriously injured immediately after Teridax's takeover of the universe but we never get any details about what happened to him