#krakua

[bioniclechicken]

Played HiFi Rush and it was great

Microsoft is run by idiots

[toaarcan]

What is the Default Toa Form?

So, theory time.

It's a common fandom headcanon that the natural state of all Toa is the Toa Metru build. The reasons for this are varied (but if I'm honest seem mostly rooted in the fandom's love affair with the build that came to an end during the TTV Hagah Contest rather than any actual lore), but I personally disagree with this.

So I'm going to run through the various Toa builds in roughly chronological order (with one exception) and determine whether I think they're likely to be the true default form of a Toa.

1) Helryx

Well, right away, here's one that probably isn't.

Helryx is the oldest build lore-wise, newest IRL. She's also kind of a "Meta Build", aiming to look like a forerunner to the Toa Mata build we'll discuss shortly, not by directly evoking the way the Mata were styled (I would argue that a lot of the Mata's identifying hallmarks aren't present in her), but by being primarily composed of parts from 2001 and earlier.

However... this isn't what Helryx always looked like. Nor is the art that actually represents the canonised design.

The intent of the contest was to create Helryx as she appears in the present, after thousands of years of wear, tear and repair. In the text, she's referred to as disturbingly frail and alien-looking compared to what Takanuva expects a Toa to look like.

Even if she once looked like a default Toa, she doesn't now.

Orde, the only other known prototype Toa, never received a canon design (for what it's worth, I won't be putting a lot of weight on the DuckBricks Fanon Contest designs, since they're, well, fanon. So Bukkey's Orde won't be factored in here, besides me noting that he has a more Mata-esque body than Helryx does).

However, another popular headcanon is that Krakua represents another example of this generation of Toa, as Helryx would've been the basis for Krakua's transformation.

Perhaps this is what Helryx would've lookedd like when she was healthy and built?

Well, as much as I like that headcanon, and will continue to use it in fanon, probably not. Based on the evidence we have of Toa transformations, both in-story through Takanuva and the Toa Metru, the transformation is pretty much 1-to-1 with current forms. The Metru all get Lhikan's build exactly, except for specifically their height. Likewise, Takanuva's build is identical to Gali Nuva's, despite him not being a Toa Nuva. He didn't resemble base Gali, he resembled her current form.

If Krakua was transformed in Helryx's image, he'd likely be just as small, spindly, and hunched-over as she is.

For now, Krakua remains a weird outlier.

2) Mata

While not as common a choice as the Toa Metru build, the Mata build has also been suggested a few times as "Base Toa," largely because it's the original. It's relatively simple, and depicting any given Toa as a Mata build is easy enough and looks good.

(I honestly prefer it over the Metru build. It's easier to put proper hips, knees and elbows on a Mata than it is to un-fuck a Metru's shoulders and neck)

However, the Toa Mata are actually pretty much unique entities within the Matoran Universe, unlike any Toa before or after them. They are the only Toa who aren't transformed from Matoran or built by the Great Beings, instead being created by Artakha.

As a result of that unique method of creation, it's entirely reasonable to suggest that the Toa Mata look different to every other Toa in the world besides Takanuva, who was transformed in their image. They're the only canonical Toa whose bodies directly resemble the Great Spirit Robot itself, use these specific colour schemes, and have its specific design language in their construction.

3) Hagah/Mangai/Metru

By far the most popular contender for this title, but one I don't personally agree with.

We don't know whether the Toa Hagah were built or transformed, but we know they were assembled from across the Matoran universe and given new armour upon recruitment into Teridax's team, and we have no idea what they looked like before they were given this armour, beyond Bomonga presumably already having his huge limbs. Additionally, the Metru were all transformed based on Lhikan, so it's him I'll be focusing on mostly.

Lhikan was transformed and was trained at a Toa Fortress around 6000 years ago. We don't know what the other Mangai looked like (though they're popularly headcanoned as being Metru too, no canon look for them was ever settled).

However, my stance is that this design is not the default (Lhikan would've been transformed in someone's image), but rather a cultural one, a sort of 'uniform' armour style adopted by Toa during the height of their power, when the Toa Fortresses were active and Toa were commonly trained by other Toa. The image of a Toa would've become a consistent thing, and caused almost all transformed Toa to adopt it for a time, making it almost a new default, but not the original, until the Toa genocide and the subspecies becoming largely extinct caused things to diverge again.

This is, to be specific, not a counter-theory I'm proposing to the "Default Metru" theory in and of itself, but rather a part of a wider theory, explaining the commonality of the Metru build when I think that the last spot on our list is the real default.

And that leaves us with only one option.

4) Inika/Mahri/Cordak/Nuva 2.0/Glatorian

So yes, I think this is the default Toa build.

That might strike you as weird, considering that the Inika are only transformed at the beginning of the Ignition Arc, right before the end of the story in terms of the MU's timescale, and the Nuva adopt this design even later.

But let's consider a few points, shall we?

First off, the Toa Inika are the first and only Toa team we see who are transformed into their Toa forms, and do not have their appearance influenced by previous Toa. And while there's some weirdness with their heads and powers, their bodies seem pretty normal, and remain as such after their Inika weirdness is removed by the Ignika.

Secondly, we know the Great Beings made the Matoran based on the Agori, and the Toa based on the Glatorian. The first Matoran, the default form of a Matoran as it were, are the Av-Matoran, who use the same build as the Agori exactly. Should it not stand to reason that a default Toa uses the same build as the Glatorian?

Additionally, like the Glatorian, the Inika build and its derivatives have by far the most variation from individual to individual. True, we've never seen a Toa as weird as Strakk, but that doesn't mean that none existed.

Thirdly, there's one more character we haven't discussed thus far.

And this, then, is my smoking gun.

Lesovikk was a member of the first Toa Team, and one would assume based on that information that he's a purpose-built Toa. Well, he isn't. He's transformed. Given how rushed the Great Beings were at the end of the GSR project, I wager they found it easier to make a small number of Toa and then have them immediately transfer power to Matoran than it was to make thousands of Toa from the off.

Lesovikk may well be the first Toa transformed, and if he was, then his transformation would either be free of influence from anyone, or in the direct image of whomever transformed him, who could only be a default, purpose-built Toa.

"But wait!" I hear some of you typing already. "Lesovikk is a mutant, we have no idea what his true form looks like!"

Or do we?

Let's look at another character who was affected by Pit Mutagen in 2007, shall we?

This is Defilak, a Matoran of Mahri Nui. Like all the residents of Mahri Nui, he once lived on the Southern Continent, and later Voya Nui, after an ill-fated trip to Karzahni.

He used to be a weird little gremlin Matoran like his brethren from 2006, and transformed into the form above after being immersed in Pit Mutagen.

But here's the twist: Rather than simply mutating them directly from their twisted post-rebuild forms, the Mutagen actually reverted the Matoran of Mahri Nui to their original forms first, and only then started to mutate them.

This is Defilak's default form. This is what he always looked like, just with added weapons.

With that in mind, I think it's safe to say that Lesovikk is likely in the same boat: Reverted to his original form before the mutations started.

With the exception of the tube-like gill, I think it's more than probable that Lesovikk is mostly-normal still, and as such, is a very early Toa with a Mahri build.

With that in mind, I conclude that the default design for a Toa is a 2006-2009 build, with Helryx being the product of damage and repair, the Metru/Mangai/Hagah being a cultural design, the Mata being Artakha designs, and Krakua being a weird outlier.

[tiredspacedragon]

Kra

Anyone have any idea what was up with all the "Kra" names in 2004? Like seriously, all the Toa Mata's names get remixed with Kra at the beginning, is that supposed to mean something?

Like seriously

Tahu > Kraahu

Gali > Kralhi

Pohatu > Kraatu

Kopaka > Krahka

Lewa > Kraawa

Onua > Kranua

What is happening here. Both Toa Metru combiners, both Vahki combiners, a dinky little polybag set I'm not sure was actually released, and the 6-Toa combiner model Rahi all share this bizarre pattern. Is this supposed to mean something? It feels important, but it's not like anything comes of this, as far as I know. And like okay, some of these are kind of a stretch, but it's weird this pattern can be made at all, right? And even without it, that's still a lot of Kra names! But why?

And it doesn't even stop there, because look what happened in 2005!

Takua > Krakua

(Honestly I'm mostly just confused about why I didn't notice this earlier)

[tempelbeast]

Renders of Stars like Toa Mata an custom matoran with extra readers. We have:

1. Jaller, Tahu and Kapura

2. Hahli, Gali and Macku

3. Nuparu, Onua and Taipu

4. Kongu, Lewa and Tamaru

5. Hewkii, Pohatu and Hafu

6. Matoro, Kopaka and Kopeke

7. Takua, Kotu, Pewku and Onepu

8. Akhmou, Krakua and Zemya

9. Good guy, Voriki and Bad guy

[randomwriteronline]

"Strange colors, this one," the female said. "Earth?"

"Sonics," the other replied proudly. "Very rare. Usually their element kills them before they can turn."

The Toa's head lolled about, quiet, his silvery Hau hung low; he did not respond when his possible buyer grasped his forehead and pulled it up to check his eyes - which he did not open.

"Blind?"

"Ah, no, no, he sees well! But we've had to knock the fighting out of him and now he's a little shy," the Stone Skakdi cackled. "Not that it was difficult. He's perfect cannon fodder, no will to complain, no thoughts of his own. Or he could make a good cabin boy for you or some other slave-like thing... Truly, you've just got to choose."

Xekul grinned sharply, her tone appreciative: "Not bad for his price."

A panicked sound arose from behind her: one of her sailors was rushing towards them, grabbing her arm, trying to pull her grip off of the near catatonic being.

"You won't fool me!" he was snarling, spine snapping like a whip, teeth bared, "Keep your cursed deals off our ship!"

She yanked herself out of his grasp with barely any effort; the smaller Skakdi tripped on his own feet as he was thrown forward, and she snarled: "What's gotten into you now?"

"He's cursed!" the male insisted, "They all are! All De-Toa, all of them!"

His eyes gleamed terribly as he set them on the being limply awaiting whatever demise the Skakdi would decide for him.

"They're harbingers of ruin - they're Mata Nui's own personal sirens, made to drag us all into the bottomless abyss," the spindly male hissed. His fingers curled tighter around his captain's arm, so tight he almost crushed her murky green armor. "He'll doom the ship the moment he gets on it! He'll guide us straight to Karzhani itself!"

"Bit unruly, this sailor of yours," the slave trader cackled nervously.

"Bit more than usual," Xekul agreed with a low growl.

The Ice Skakdi trembled harshly, gnashing his teeth together as he suddenly shrieked: "We need to kill him! It's the only way to save ourselves! We need to kill him now!"

Immediately the other male perked up, spine curving to make him seem larger as he barked: "Hey, hey! No touching the merchandise!"

"Then we'll need to kill you too!" the sailor howled back, cutlass all of a sudden in hand, the terrible strength of desperation lunging his pitiful frame forward to grasp the salesman's throat between his claws and plunge the blade right into his eye over and over and over and over and--

He gave a frightening yowl when his captain's fingers grasped skull, sunk into his sockets, and yanked him back to send him flying. His body hit the ground with a large clattering thunk and shrank into a pained curled position reminiscent of a boiled shrimp's posture.

A powerful shiver wrecked him. He clasped his head within his mangy hands as his superior's feet approached him.

"He's singing," he whined softly, sounding horribly in pain: "He's singing, singing to me, burrowing and writhing inside my brain like a worm... Captain, captain, he's singing, singing!... The siren, he's singing, singing, he'll drag us to our doom singing, singing... Captain, help me, help me, kill him, kill him! Kill him! He's singing, sing--"

Xekul crushed his head with a stomp: his body stiffened, jerked about, and finally stilled.

She kicked it into the waters.

"We'll need another cabin lad," she sneered.

The Stone trader swallowed air, claws still around his throat from the previous attempt at his life: "I think," he wheezed, "I think I could give you a discount."

The female twisted her lip in a mirthless grin: "Much appreciated."

-

They kept the Toa down, in chains, below deck.

First was the quartermaster. He accused the first mate to be whistling something shrill and malevolent in his ear on the second day; he claimed to still hear it on the fourth day; he stabbed the female in the throat on the fifth. They reduced him to molten scrap for his offense, but by the time they were done there was nothing else to do for her, and Xekul ordered both bodies thrown overboard.

Second was a powder monkey. He began claiming the ammunition buzzed loudly in his ear, telling him to blow the hull; he was struck by convulsions whenever he stepped too close to the walls, vibrating at the same tempo as the blasted humming he swore had wormed into his brain; at last he blew up a fuse (accidentally or not, it could not be cleared) and took off a chunk of the ship and several gunners with himself. Xekul ordered his remains be scrapped off and dumped as chum, to catch some of the provisions he'd cost them.

Third was a sailor promoted to boatswain. He started stalking around the deck, turning his head left and right, barking orders more and more nervously and constantly looking around with a strange sort of fear in his eyes; he told of conspiracies of mutiny to his captain, enacting death sentences and banishments and imprisonments on her behalf, until the crew was so meager than they could not waste men by leaving them to the sharks anymore, becoming more paranoid by the day ever since; in the end, foaming through his jaws, screaming about a damned sound driving him insane, he slaughtered his way through most of the remaining sailors. Xekul had to break his neck to stop his infernal howling, and had to join her fearful males in throwing the dead into the ocean, as there were barely enough to handle half the corpses by themselves.

Fourth was one of the lads in the brig. It had to be, though they did not know who. By the time they went down to free them in exchange for work, they had managed to kill one another until the only one alive below deck - by sole virtue of being kept in a different cell - was the catatonic Toa.

Mere days before the third week, he was Xekul's only company.

Her claws were clutched to the helm tight, as though she feared someone might have lurched from the fog to rip it away from her as she steered cautiously.

She'd disposed of her last maddened sailor moments earlier.

He'd been singing too loud, too close to her ear.

The singing hadn't stopped.

It went on at a good distance from her, clear as day; a Bruiser song about a tower that never ends, always in construction, never to be finished, visible from a mio away in every direction, casting a shadow so impossibly long and wide that it made night fall during the day.

Each day we add a brick, and each day we lay the spackle; each day we work to finish, but the roof is never ready.

Each day we fix a wall, and each day the floor is done; each day we work to finish, but the roof is never ready.

It was a repetitive melody, sung in a dreadful monotone.

It was driving her mad.

It was completely silent.

She whipped her head around, to watch her back, tool unsheathed, limb ready to pounce, to kill: nobody. But she would have sworn there had been someone with her, a new voice, repeating the dull lyrics in a dull voice, just right behind her, right next to her.

It was completely silent.

Xekul tightened her grip on the weapon. The song continued from the empty space before her, as flat and nauseating in its spiral structure as it had always been, sinking into her head like a slow screwdriver digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper... She stared into nothingness and awaited another move as her vision swam.

It was completely silent.

Now the voice was tearing itself in two, duplicating, cloning itself through mitosis: all of a sudden there were three, and then a small group, slowly growing louder while never increasing their individual volume. The Skakdi violently jerked away from the helm as one of them suddenly came too close to her arm, so close she could have felt the breath on her armor if it had come from a mouth.

It was completely silent.

They kept multiplying. New voices kept adding up, taking over the area all around her, pushing her back, back, back, into the wall, into the corner, into the ground, pressing against her as if the room was caving in, crushed by an outside force; once she was completely curled up their pitch rose slowly, higher and higher and higher until the words were only shrieks sinking into her like scalding needles, and she screamed to cover them until her throat ripped apart.

It was completely silent.

A hand opened the door with a click.

Xekul did not see the being, at first, because the noise had covered her field of vision with a thick layer of electric grey snow flickering at terrible speeds.

She felt fingers sit carefully over her head as she convulsed in a state of complete hysteria - fingers light and quiet, pressing barely enough to take her out of the auditory torture, to let her begin to make out the vaguest shape in the static surrounding her. From them came something... Something like a liquid extension, of the heavy consistency of syrup: it dug into her skull and thoughts, curling around them far too quickly, leaving them behind when they did not find what they wanted. She hacked and spat in an attempt to stop them, but her body did not cooperate.

Then, something inside her brain gave a loud click: and it was all over.

"Thank you, madam," a voice said, sucking the thousand screaming litanies back into itself.

Her tremors quelled slowly, her eyes reaccustomed themselves to the world that had been encased in painful white noise. Xekul opened her mouth and heaved: the tension that had kept her jaws shut so hard her teeth had almost cracked was finally gone.

Something in her head felt different. Like a piece was missing... No: like a piece had been nudged, pulled out, and then placed back in. Like someone had put a bookmark amongst her memories.

Vaguely she recognized the figure now changing course at the helm. She recognized the black armor, the gun metal... The silver mask.

Her voice snarled out of her without words.

The Toa replied to her surprised, hateful gaze with pale yellow eyes.

He hummed in tone with a Skakdi's sailor song while she remained still temporarily paralyzed, unfurling from who knows where a tube-like tool, never tearing his gaze away from hers.

He set a tempo by hitting his weapon on the floor.

"Captain, my captain, we're off to a good start!" he sang.

Then the staff struck harder against the metal; the sound pierced her head like a bullet, and Xekul blacked out.

[sandiaheadonline]

Helryx training Krakua

I'm sure training with Helryx had to be very, VERY hard (Headcanon that poor Krakua almost had to fight for his life every time he trained with her)

[outofgloom]

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, or was, a certain Toa of Fire 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.

[crystaltoa]

I’d like to know more about Helryx and Krakua.

Helryx seems to have an “I’ll get my hands dirty so that yours can stay clean” attitude toward other Toa, and I wonder if that extends to Krakua as well? Or whether being part of the Order makes him essentially removed from the Toa code like her.

Does she keep him from the more morally grey missions so that he can go and live as a proper Toa one day if he chooses?

Or is it some comfort to her to know she’s not the only Toa who’s not squeaky clean any more… even if she’s the reason he got that way…

[voidaspects]

I’ve shown this a little bit before, but I just realized I never actually posted the full collection on here since then, so have the full display!

My full collection of every single Order of Mata Nui member! (minus the ones that physically can’t be owned in a canon capacity (I’m sorry Johmak ;-;))

I don't know what else to say other than this was really really fun to collect and aaaah I love them all sm I'm so happy!!!

Sorry the photo isn’t great, it’s like impossible to get good photo lighting where they’re displayed.

So have these instead!

[wjbs-bonkle-au]

I genuine didnt know krakuas tool was supposed to be a sword I thought it was like a staff. like they cant have him kill ppl too fast so they gave him a blunt weapon. where the hell is the blade on that

I mean I just think of it as "Krakua's funny stick" (which is the name of a reverb impulse-response I created from waving a hollow plastic tube in front of my microphone).

[angryraptor13]

Headcanon: Whenever someone annoys Toa Krakua, he makes them sound like they inhaled helium or sulfur hexafluoride.

[bioniclechicken]

Sound guys

[foundfamilyhq]

[sonicfan510152025]

Krakua: Toa of Sonics

[bionicle-ramblings]

Just realized Krakua has a Mask of telepathy, and now I'm imagining him catching on that Vakama's getting stuck in his own head and pulls him out via telepathic message, like, "You always look like a ln angry Rahi when you're worrying too much"

[randomwriteronline]

miscellaneous Krakua in the order of mata nui thoughts. all of the stupid variety

A) Krakua is one of the smaller members since most of the guys here are titan sets so hes used to being picked up like a suitcase or for a piggy back ride. this was initially so he would not wander off or get lost or make them waste time, but then they just kept doing that out of habit. he loves it, actually, so when hes around other beings who are his size or worse smaller and so cant just grab him like an apple to drag him around he gets a lil sad about it

B) hes the only person who knows where Jerbraz is at all times. everybody else has learned to sense him or figure his position via hyper awareness of their space but Krakua can just fuckin. hear him. he will run at full speed and jump at him so Jerbraz has to catch him every single time they meet just to blow his cover. theyre having fun :)

C) typical order of mata nui exercise to improve your minds abilities: meditate uninterrupted for two hours while directly next to Krakuas noise tests. this includes fending him off (still meditating) when he tries to move his noise tests onto you specifically

D) the aforementioned noise tests are, in theory, a good exercise of Krakuas sonic powers by applying them to his staff and figuring out how they can affect the target through it. they consist, in practice, of Krakua smacking his staff against the closest surface available while applying a different more insane soundfont each time. he can do this for hours. he will do this for hours.

E) a non comprehensive list of noises Krakua has bonked into existence in the bionicle universe through noise tests:

Half Life 2 crowbar sound effect

Spirit bod static

Killing Machines from MNOG

Earth-shattering dad sneeze

Disgustingly wet cough

Wilhelm scream

Down Under (instrumental) by Men at Work

At least three quarters of Nero's Day At Disneyland's discography

Saxophone solo

Train honk

Truck honk

Car honk

Bike honk

Clown honk

Cucaracha honk

Sea elephant honk

Hydrogen bomb explosion

Rubber ducky

An entire audio library worth of slapstick sound effects

Several positively insane conversations between the various order members via the magic of TF2 fanvideo-style audio splicing and rearranging, currently following a vaguely coherent plot as he got too carried away and started making lore for this on-the-fly youtube poop hes been smacking on the side of a wall otherwise motionless for about four hours now

Mashup of every single polka cover medley by Matoran Universe Weird Al Yankovich

Micheal Jackson vocalizations

Yodeling