So let me tell you something about the Turaga.
Way back in Metru Nui,
they were Toa.
Toa who became monsters.
After all they had faced
they came back to their city
and now it's infested.
That was the Toa realizing that sometimes,
they can't protect what they love.
Fighting a losing battle
against everyone and everything.
They saw their city reduced to cobwebs.
They saw their own kind betray them in primal madness
and they can't forget that.
So they step back into their city
The streets are empty save for the clatter of Visorak crawling back to their webs.
Something's out there in the shadows but they don't care.
Vakama visits the forge where he once worked as a Matoran
and finds, perhaps
the shell of a Vahki
strangled by a withering vine that trails off into the furnace,
and he remembers all that the city had faced and won
and how much they lost.
But all he can see now are these webs
all leading straight back to the Coliseum.
Wrapped around the statue of his hero, the great Lhikan.
Defacing the Great Temple where they were transformed
into the Toa Metru, defenders of their city.
They who were once hunted and imprisoned by their own leader.
And now there's nothing they can do to save their city.
There's no coming back home.
There will only be the bitter taste of victory,
followed by a short farewell,
then they will turn their backs to the city
and condemn it to entropy.
They win the battle!
Their true forms are restored!
Their friends are saved!
As they head out to board the boat,
Whenua glimpses the entrance to the Archives.
He imagines the terrifying beasts once caged below
and he wonders what is happening to them now;
mutant behemoths screaming in the dark.
But there's nothing there
just an open entrance
and a silence.
So they board the boat
and push off
none of them look back as they try not to think
about what once happened
about their fellow Matoran
who will remember nothing of the glory of Metru-Nui
and so they live out their lives
on the tropical paradise of Mata-Nui
suppressing these memories.
Ignoring the instinct to share old jokes with their brothers and sisters.
Because none of them remember,
none but these six.
And when they hold council,
it starts with a look shared from one to the next.
Sometimes Matau starts it,
But none of them want to say it.
Nobody wants to speak the one thought shared by all:
Edited by Kakaru, Jan 19 2013 - 03:41 AM.