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[The Dark Chronicler]

Hello, and a pleasant day to you who ends up reading this... though I guess that may not be such a good thing. If you are reading this, then it would be wise to assume that I am no longer among the living, as I would never part with this writing in my life. It is far more important to me than anyone could ever imagine. But it, I suppose, is of no real concern at this time, as I will not be alive to feel sadness about my death. That, is one of the few good things about death, no longer having to worry about dying.

I assume that you came upon this tablet in some manner of purchase, or perhaps you found it. It doesn't really matter though, you now have it and I do not. If you wish to see a cheerfully written tale, then I am afraid that I must advise you to look elsewhere, as you will find no cheer, no joy, no happiness here. But it is not written to be a tale of adventure and excitement, but to act as a reminder. I don't wish to fade away into history, as though I never existed... I want to be remembered. Even if only by a single person... I just don't want my life to have been wasted. I want to have at least something about me live on. So I write this history of my life, so that I may be known, even if by then all memory of my species has faded completely, at least these words I write will continue on after my death.

My name, you may be wondering... is not really all that important. It has no real meaning anymore, it only shows me how far this world has fallen. I am from a species that thrives in the darkness and shadows, who created much and never received the praise that they had worked so hard to earn. I am a member of the Brotherhood of Makuta, or I suppose that I was. Now that name, like my own, has little meaning to me, a piece of the past that I will never see again. But once, I was a part of that alliance of my brothers and sisters. We were to create the Rahi that were needed by the Matoran, though some of us went beyond that to create rather... monstrous beasts. I myself was never truly interested in creating creatures, my brothers created enough of those without me being required to do so. Life lacked interest to me, there were things that I found far superior. I was more interested in pure machines, that lacked the organics and will of a living being. Weapons... they were what I spent my time on, and nothing has ever been able to compare to the thrill of working with lifeless objects of death and destruction.

I suppose this may be boring to you who wish for a tale of action. For that, I must apologize. This was never written to be a story to grab and hold you attention along on an adventure of excitement and wonder. This is my life... these are the horrors that my brothers and sisters were subjected to... what I too was subjected to. This is a story of misery and sadness, of lost hope and suffering. This is me.. and the torment of suffering I have faced.... and likely always will.

My name is Makuta Kyrack, and this depressing tale is the story of my life... and of my hatred.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, Apr 25 2012 - 08:23 AM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

100,000 Years Ago


It was near this time when my life began, when I took my first unsteady steps out of the pool of liquid that my species was formed from. I can not today describe my feelings at that time so long ago, to first feel, see, hear, smell. To have every sense coming alive for the first time... I can roughly recall that it seemed so strange, alien and alarming. But I don't know what all went through my mind, and I can not even recall the true feeling of it... I lost my ability to feel so long ago that I have forgotten what it was like.

Only one thing of this time really stands out to me, it was meeting for the first time those beings that would later change my life so greatly... oh how I wish I could have killed every single one of them then and there. Maybe if I had, my life would not be this misery and suffering that I must endure.

There were three beings seemed different than rest to me, they were unique, and often annoying. They stood apart from the rest of my kind, three among one hundred. Between us all, there were many similarities, but little to speak about, most just blathered on about whatever their small minds came upon. We had no histories, no real interests at the time. We barely even knew the rough word forming in our minds that we called our names. But three had something to say, something either worth listening to, or worth forgetting though I can not. I can remember bits of what they said all that long ago, but it may not be the exact wording.

The first was Female, her name was, as I later learned, Kralica. She spoke with a voice that seemed angry, always angry... angry at the world, angry at others, angry at herself. She wanted to, as she said "Find a way out of this miserable, overcrowded place." She was direct and to the point, she wanted nothing to do with the rest of us, only intending to get out of the area. She was loud and obnoxious, and she made certain everyone heard her, no matter how much we all wished she would just shut up.

The second was rather calm, staying back away from the others, seeming to think over the situation. It was as though he was trying to discover where not only he, but all of us had come from and how we had gotten here. His words were "We must have a purpose here... but what is it?" During the coming years, I learned his name, Miserix. I would learn that he very well might have been the wisest of us all, myself excluded, as well as a good friend, or at least as close to a friend as any of my species could ever hope to have.

The last was known as Mutran, and his first comments were about as strange as his own creations later would be. I am uncertain if he was truly mad, or merely eccentric. Whatever he was, I have faced a mental crisis over the years about him, I have never decided the best way to kill him. He said, as best I recall "This cave is rather nice... but I can't say much for the company, they're all trying copy my style."

I myself did not have much to say, it seemed a waste of effort to speak when there was nothing worth mentioning except that we were in a cave, and that it was crowded. But I did not have to worry about that, as it would not be long before all of our questions were answered. Though our answers left us with so many more questions than before.

Mata Nui, as he claimed himself, spoke in a voice that echoed through our chamber, so greatly that the liquid from which we formed began to quiver. He told us of our creation, from Antidermis into what he called Makuta. I am uncertain to how he created that name, but none of us had any issues with that name at the time, except perhaps Kralica. But, she was finding everything possible to complain about. He told us of the world we would soon inhabit, and of the people inside it. Then he gave to us a purpose, a reason for why we were created. We were created, so that we may create.

From the very beginning, I found it unpleasant and pointless. We were created to do the work of another being, so that he would not have to do such things himself. We were a shortcut for him, making us with lesser effort so that we could devote our time to creating what would have taken him much longer. We existed only because the so called 'Great' Spirit wanted to pass on his work to something else, our lives meant nothing. I hated it.

From even that point, I could see what was happening, how we were intended to be merely machines to build for a being who created us only for that purpose. But we were not machines, we lived and we thought. We had our own wills, and Mata Nui was as foolish as he was lazy in his work. We would only be content with working in his shadow for long.

And my thoughts were all put out in front of me within a single moment, by another of my fellow Makuta. Kralica shouted at the voice to "Shut up your stupid blathering and show us the way out!" That had to be one of the only moments that I have found laughter, as it was exactly as I am sure many of us thought. Funny how now, looking back, laughter seems as foreign to me as my sense of touch. I have not been without the ability to laugh, but nothing has made me feel the need to do so in a long, long time.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 04 2012 - 10:58 PM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

100,000 - 99,000 Years Ago


It was less than a week after our lives first began, Mata Nui had formed our species of one hundred into a single group, forcing us into what he called The Brotherhood of Makuta. It was forcing us to work as slaves, hidden poorly under the guise of a powerful group. He didn't even use a better fitting term, which of course would have to have been gender neutral. But no, we were The Brotherhood, a group of loosely connected beings with as much difference between us as there was between our creations. And that was a major diversity to be certain. Some of us, such as myself, were clever and gifted with our intellect, and then there were those such as Mutran.

Mata Nui put in charge of this Brotherhood the being named Miserix, one of the Makuta that I had heard before. Needless to say, many of my brothers and sisters were not happy with the decision, and wished for themselves to be the leader. I can not say that I was not among those jealous of the leadership he had been given, for I really did not like the idea of working under the command of someone else. But over time I would learn that Miserix meant well, he tried as best he could to keep our ambitious nature under control, though It wouldn't always work, and other times we would intentionally spite him.

Then began the first day of our job slaving away to create living creatures for the Not-So-Great Spirit, who the Matoran revered so pathetically, These animals we created were called Rahi by the small beings that were Mata Nui's Chosen, the Matoran. But these first creatures were miserable excuses for creations, for they lacked creativity or any real purpose. Needless to say, Miserix was not pleased by our work. He wanted more out of us, he requested that we accomplish our task with brilliance and inventiveness. I never could understand why we would waste our time doing so.

But we tried to improve all the same, creating better and more interesting creatures. It became clear rather quickly that I was falling behind on the learning curve, my own creations not on the same scale as those of my brothers and sisters. I struggled with my creations, the ideas did not flow to me as they did for others. Out of desperation to keep up with the others, I merely copied parts from other creatures and placed them together and called it my own. It was humiliating, but it got Miserix to stop complaining.

Nothing I created during this time proved itself impressive, or even of slight interest to my fellow Makuta. I was still trying to create creatures, even when I knew that I would never be able to match the others. There was more within my mind than merely designing simple Rahi, I was already working on my own ideas... in secret of course, I would let none know of my distaste for our task.

I hated creating creatures almost as much as I hated my brothers and sisters, and seeing the others create beasts of masterful genius struck even harder at me. Even the always angry Kralica could create better than I... though every animal she created was a zoological horror with no right to even exist. Miserix took a interest in reptiles, for some unexplained reason. And Mutran... he created things... that had even less of a right to existence than those of Kralica.

By Mata Nui, that creature he called the 'Spine Splitter' was terrifying. The image of him unleashing it upon that Muaka is something I shall never be able to remove from my mind. Never before had I seen one creature create so much of a mess while dying. And that was merely within the first thousand years, he created things much worse as time went along.

Kralica was quickly adapting to her work in these days, creating a monstrous creature with gaping jaws and savage fangs. It greatly impressed Miserix, and quite a few were created to inhabit the universe. The Muaka truly was the least dangerous of her creations.

I myself for the first time created my own unique Rahi, and it received much scorn from my brothers and sisters. It also was subject to a notoriously short lifespan. They began to insultingly call me Junkyard, for my creature were made from scraps of others, or ended up on the scrap heap. I despised the being who started that, Gulvuss. His own next creation exploded in a rather unexpected blast or sludge. Of course, I had nothing to do with it.

I started work upon designing organic weapons, which caught the attention of quite a few beings. But it was just a hobby more or less, it didn't mean anything at the time. I did not know it then, but I had finally started along a path towards the one thing that would ever interest me.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 04 2012 - 10:31 PM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

99,000 - 95,000 Years Ago


During this time, our lives started to increase in interest slightly, as Miserix decided to extend our power into the politics of the world beyond our island. This seemed rather wasteful to me. I thought we should let those outside suffer through their own problems, and worry about our own, such as Mutran. But no, we were destined for bigger things, and I eventually came to like the idea, it gave me less time to work upon Rahi that would only cement my nickname even further into my brothers; and sisters' minds.

Miserix came to me about something happening on the Island of Xia, the natives were raising prices on their materials to unreasonable levels, and the Matoran were suffering for it. I myself had never liked the Matoran, always so... annoying, constantly underfoot. It seemed it was frowned upon if one did in fact crush one of them, intentional or otherwise.

Apparently our leader was sending some of our kind to negotiate with the Vortixx for better prices. Three Makuta were to be sent, along with a unimportant underling named Pridak. He wanted me to be that third Makuta, alongside Icarax, and Mutran. Apparently he wished to send someone who wouldn't destroy the island along with the savage, and the moron. The problem was, I despised them both.

I had spent days talking to the Xian natives, explaining to them that by increasing prices, they would actually be losing business, and overall losing a good portion of their profits. Discussion was going rather well, and the Xians seemed to be rather good with understanding economics. We were quickly reaching a agreement that would be beneficial for everyone, especially myself.

Then Icarax's short fuse temper ran out, and the deal quickly fell apart. He destroyed the building where we were staying, along with the nearby homes of a few civilians. Needless to say, I was not happy about having my work ruined by one action of the foolish brute. If I could have at that time, i would have killed him, and then torn his body apart to feed to the birds.

The Xians agreed to lower their prices within the aftermath, though not out of being reasonable, but out of fear. For Icarax and Mutran, it seemed to be enough. It wasn't, Icarax had just completely ruined all of my work, then showed me up by accomplishing everything I had tried for in a single act of violence and destruction. Fear was a weapon to be used carefully, not as a tool to get whatever he wanted. When used too much, it is like a blade, it grows dull and no longer cuts as deeply.

At least it seemed that Icarax's aide had some sense to him, more so than my brothers. We spoke on the way back to Destral, the island I called home. He seemed rather clever, and had a sharp wit to him. I could tell that he didn't plan on being under Icarax for long, he wanted more in his life than that. He reminded me of my own situation, working under Mata Nui as he did under Icarax.

And then Mutran began to get upset, and started shouting about some sort of rock. He was afraid that he had left his favorite rock on the island. I thought about asking why he had a favorite rock, but came upon the conclusion that it was not something I wished to know.

But apparently, Icarax wished to know and asked what was the problem with leaving just a simple rock behind. Then Mutran spoke about how the rock might start consuming the locals and turn into a mountain. it was at this moment that I walked away from the two, muttering to myself about why I was the only sane Makuta on this mission.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 06 2012 - 10:28 AM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

95,000 - 94,000 Years Ago


I came across a breakthrough in designing Rahi, working up a way to literally merge my organic weapons into the creatures I created. It was marvelous indeed, allowing me to create a Rahi capable of funneling its natural electricity into a violent blast from its eyes. The problem I faced at the time was that the eyes were unable to withstand the electrical energy, and would leave it blinded after a single use of this marvelous power. I could have asked my brothers and sisters for assistance, but none of them would have wasted the time to help me with my Rahi, when they would much rather create their own.

But one of them noticed my creation before I could conceal it away, the one person I wished least to see in my laboratory. Mutran had come by to show off what he called the 'Greatest Rahi Ever'... I was rather unimpressed by it, but Mutran seemed more interested in the electrical issues I was facing. He even offered his assistance in the matter. But I was no fool, I saw right through his plans to ruin my creation and ordered him away from my laboratory.

He seemed honestly disappointed, but I could see right through his tricks. He was only trying to ruin my hard work, or take credit of the beast for himself. He was not welcome in my work space, and I made certain that he knew it very clearly. After that point, he never did try to annoy me within my laboratory, which was a great accomplishment at the time. Sadly, it didn't last.

Kralica even tried the same thing when Mutran so kindly informed her of my fusion of weapons into creatures. But she too learned that I would not let them compromise my work, I would take none of their obnoxious and moronic attempts at ruining my creature so close to completion. She was almost as good an actress as Mutran had been an actor. For a few moments, between her anger was a faked sadness, which did not last long.

I was glad to have those annoyances out of my way for the time, though I still was faced with the problem of keeping my Rahi from blinding itself. I knew I could accomplish it with enough work and thinking upon it.

I kept trying and trying with no results, everything I did still ended with my creatures going blind. I was already growing tired of the design, and concluded that it wasn't worth the time I was putting into it. I decided to scrap the whole worthless thing and move on to other ideas, ones that would work out and were possible to complete. Clearly there was no way to fix the problem, and no sense in trying.

Again Mutran wanted to help, and again I turned him away. I didn't need help, the creature was not repairable, I had already learned that the hard way. And I knew he would only make things worse in the long run. He really was foolish, he couldn't even see when a design could go no further.

That night, my creature vanished. I really didn't care about what happened to that blinded creature, it was absolutely useless for the purposes I intended it for. How could it shoot lightning out of it if it couldn't even see where to shoot? Quite simply, it couldn't with any efficiency.

The creature showed up a little over a month later, back while I had left it contained. Only, despite its burnt out eyes, it still seemed to be able to see. Closer inspection revealed electrical energy sensors in it's lower facial region, similar to those of some aquatic creatures. I don't really know who did it, or why, but they took no credit for their actions, leaving all of it to myself. I to this very day am uncertain as to who did it, or what their motive exactly was, but my suspicions are Kralica, just so my next creation would look like a failure in comparison.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 10 2012 - 09:50 PM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

94,000 - 90,000 years ago.


That aide to Icarax, that I had spoke to not so long ago, decided to move on to bigger things in his life than as a underling of the mindless club wielded by the brotherhood named Icarax. For that, I applaud him, though he could have finished off the brainless fool when he left. He began a small string of conquest, along with a few other minor warlords , taking over areas that seemed to be of lacking importance to myself, but I was all the same impressed that they were able to do even that. It seemed that conquest was a challenge much more easily said than done, and they were accomplishing their small victories rather well. I myself was making small victories in my organic weapons, but those were apparently not as interesting.

These warlords Banded together over time, forming a group they hoped would inspire fear through their enemies, The League of Six Kingdoms. It was almost as lacking in creativity and as poor a name choice as our own Brotherhood of Makuta. But Mata Nui hadn't named them, they chose it for themselves. It must have been that bulky one's idea, he didn't seem as bright as the others. The six warlords among the group were the aide, named Pridak, along with five others I roughly recall. There was Carapar, Kalma, Ehlek, Mantox, and Takadox.

This came to us as much of a surprise, none of us really expected that they would unite with each other. Many thought they would end up battling each other for areas they had conquered, in a sort of war over what they already possessed. I had even joined in, making a few bets about which would fight which. But it seemed to me that they were more intelligent than others thought. I had seen the intellect of Pridak, and the other five were either his equals, or merely being used. The thought of any of them surpassing Pridak in intellect seemed as unlikely as Mutran saying something worth listening to.

But they were already facing problems without even knowing it. Apparently, Miserix did not trust them enough to let those warlords go about conquering without being under his watchful eyes. He bribed one of them to work for him, Takadox, who was turned into a Brotherhood spy within their conquest-hunting kingdoms. It seemed as though we had the Six Kingdoms within our own grasps, and they could be bent to our wills should we see the need to use them. But things never turn out exactly how we wanted them to, and this was no different.

It was almost a pity really, they were already so easy within our power and only one of them knew it. But they wouldn't be easy to contain, that was certain. I knew then that something interesting was waiting in the future, I just did not know exactly how remarkable it would really be, or the lasting consequences that these six small warlords would bring about. All I knew was that during the upcoming years, I might find some way to balance the scale for my own amusement.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 21 2012 - 09:47 AM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

90,000 - 85,000 Years Ago


We were now in the middle of a sort of... disagreement with the League of Six Kingdoms, and as usual, I was paired up with the one being I despised the most, excluding Mata Nui. Kralica, Miserix, and many more of my fellow Makuta were there, but they were not as annoying as Mutran was, nor did they try to explain the wonderfully uninteresting method of how he had created something that could potentially revolutionize Rahi as we knew them. I was more interested in something else, people far more important.

The League had managed to find the nerve to not suggest, but order us to continue supplying them with Rahi. I do not know which was worse, the fact that they thought they were superior to us, or the fact that they did in such a magnificent way that it had greatly infuriated Miserix without even consulting my assistance. They had courage, that much was certain. Though they seemed to be making too many mistakes, letting power go to their heads. I had expected more from Pridak, but I suppose you never can tell.

The tower we were within belonged to the League, and was rather... uninspired. Basic stone walls without decoration of anything to draw the interest of the eye. It was most noticeably damp, and cold. At that time, we could still feel such minor things, and they were a nuisance to be certain. I was tempted to just leave the tower, but I was held in place by my own curiosity, as two of the Six Kingdom's leader discussed their plan for dividing up the universe.

This would, as expected, annoy Miserix to no end, as he was stuck waiting for them to finish speaking. They did it intentionally, of that I am certain. The whole plan was to get under Miserix's skin, to make him angry. And it worked quite well.

First, Miserix interrupted with a comment about our kind serving only Mata Nui himself, of which was something I myself did not agree with, but thought it better to leave him to his enraged conversation uninterrupted. But Pridak was enjoying this, too much for his own good, He brought up the threat of attacking our island, a terrible idea if any fool had ever thought one up. He was making a terrible mistake, I could see that very clearly. Then he brought up what could only be called Mata Nui's mistake, letting he and the rest of the six rule over the universe.

Of course, they could claim all the power they wished to have, but it would never phase me. They would fall, like statues against a wind too powerful for them to bear. Then, they would shatter upon the ground, a thousand fragments of what was once a mighty alliance.

It was Icarax that voiced my thoughts this time, and it is still clear to me his exact words, all this time later. "Perhaps the Great Spirit isn't as wise as we've been lead to believe." I must admit, I did enjoy that, and for a moment I forgot how stupid he really was. That moment was swift and fleeting.

From that point on, the meeting dissolved into a boring argument laced with threats here and there, and I do believe that both our leader and Pridak went away from the meeting rather angrily. It was well worth sitting through, though I was a little disappointed that it had not turned into the violent battle I had been longing for after years of work trying to create Rahi. Of course, i wouldn't have been part of the fighting, but I would have greatly enjoyed watching it.

Then Miserix spoke to his lieutenant, Teridax, telling him that he should watch the six warlords. I did not know at the time, but I think now that it was some sort of coded message between the two, a sort of command to trigger something far more violent than expected. Things were getting interesting, and I could never imagine how it would change everything, including the chain of command itself.

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Edited by Pyrrhon, May 25 2012 - 09:26 PM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

85,000 - 80,000 Years Ago

During this time, much of what occurred isn't recorded in any given record. Nothing that could possibly link us to events during this time was allowed the remain. To most of the universe, nothing even happened within this frame of time, but those among my kind, and the Barraki know that the contrary in true. It was a very volatile time, and everyone was on edge about what was going to happen. You are unlikely to find any report of it at all, but that changes nothing about what happened then, beyond the eyes of history.

The Brotherhood was at war, though not one of brutal destruction and mindless slaughter. It was a war fought with stealth and information. Very few died within the battles that occurred, but the losses in information for both sides are impossible to calculate, due to the lack of records. It was dark and often riddled with disease and fear. It was a time I remember very well, even if it never officially happened. And one of the most memorable events was the death of one of our own, though I would never mourn for their passing, that much is certain.

Somehow, an assassin from The League managed to sneak into out laboratories, evading capture or detection. The being lest no trace f how he even managed to get into the building, though he never made it out. It was shocking to most, that the Six Kingdoms would decide to send assassins after members of our species. I was not in the slightest surprised by it myself, there was always someone that someone else wanted dead, this time it was one of our number.

Gulvuss was killed in his laboratory by one of his own creations, a rather fitting end for one such as himself. The assassin had slipped into his work space, waiting for him to arrive. When he did, he was no doubt surprised to find that a Rahi he was working on was no longer in a state of unliving organics as he had last left it, but that the organic material had been triggered and was very much alive. He was creating something that was apparently far more powerful than himself, one of the worst mistakes it is possible to make. We had been warned many times not to create anything that could best us, but very few took that advice.

As the Six Kingdom's killer tried to make his escape, he was halted by another member of the Brotherhood. A fight broke out, in which the intruder was killed by the Makuta that he faced. It is ironic really, that the one who stopped Gulvuss' murderer was the one who he had insulted for many years. I was applauded for stopping the assassin before he could harm anyone else, though I had to wonder how greatly they would have applauded if they had know who it was that brought the assassin into the building.

Edited by Toxicity, Jul 12 2012 - 09:11 AM.

[The Dark Chronicler]

80,000 Years Ago


It was during this time that we truly realized what our enemies, the Six Kingdoms, were actually planning. Until this point there were rumors only, most stranger and stranger than the last. Mutran was certain that they were planning on taking over our facilities and creating Rahi for themselves. While it would have proven useful, it would in no way have been worth the cost inflicted upon their troops. There were few things certain in this... dispute, but that the Six Kingdoms would not dare harm us directly was evident. They would not send more than assassins to our residence, and none would ever reach as far as the first.

But of course, news has a way of showing itself to your foes. The Barraki would learn that in a most painful way. Our spy within them revealed a shocking plan, to take Mata Nui's place in power, along with the city of Metru Nui. I myself saw no real reason to stop them. I held no respect for our creator, who sent us into a life of suffering and woe. His removal would bring no tears to my eye, no sorrow to my life, it would only bring about another of rare events which caused me to actually enjoyed this miserable life for a few moments. Sadly, this plan would not come to fruition.

Teridax, oh how I despise that wretched creature. The words I could use for him are not fit for the writing within this recollection. He was chosen by Miserix to lead our entire force, the full power of our Brotherhood. I was there for the battle, given the position of a general. Once again I was stuck working under someone who cared nothing for my own will, using me just as a tool. Instead of to create, now I was to kill. And a slaughter is exactly what I was expecting. The forces of Ehlek were surprisingly skilled in combat, and the surprise did not provide much of a advantage. We slowly forced them into death, surrender, or imprisonment, fighting our way into the fortress of the Barraki himself.

We were to capture him alive, so Teridax could end his life personally. It seemed a horribly foolish waste to me. If we were going to kill him, then we would be wise to kill him as quickly as possible. If not, it would mean only more work for those sent to capture him. It was how I lost the majority of my left arm, trying to capture the emerald warlord for our worthless leader. The battle ended quickly enough, but the injuries I was left with were worth far more than capturing the Barraki. Rahkshi of quick healing proved invaluable to saving the remainder of my arm, and possibly my life, but it changed nothing. Teridax had cost me more than my arm, his actions would cost our entire species our lives .

There are no words to describe the loss of something as valuable as a limb. It is a part of you, it can't be replaced, it can't be repaired. It is never going to return, it is gone for as long as you live. I can even now, living as a form of energy, feel the phantom pain of my arm from time to time. The results shall last for as long as I live. It was hard to relearn how to work our machines, using only a single hand, like learning from the very beginning again. It was challenging, and frustrating, but I managed to pull through it and return to a relative normalcy in creating Rahi, and more importantly, weapons.

Makuta Shrann was not as lucky, unable to defeat Carapar in battle, losing his life to the powerful brute. I never had any connection to Shrann, but it was still strange to see his work space empty. I held no hatred for the being, and he was gone. It was... odd, but nothing more. It would take a while, but eventually there was no void remaining, there was just another empty area, a blank desk of a life that had ended. It is strange how some of my fellow Makuta acted, some seemed upset, even sad for the loss of life. It was a feeling so alien to me, there were none among us that I would feel even the slightest sadness over their passing. At least, that is what I thought for the longest time, but it was a thought that was not to last.

Edited by Wolpertinger, Nov 27 2012 - 09:24 AM.