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IC: Selamat - Iron Canyon Selamat continued to step forward into the cave, eyeing the bats that lined the ceiling warily. He wasn't familiar with bats; he did not leave the vicinity of Vulcanus often enough or for long enough to spend much time sheltering in caves. He knew that they were supposed to be harmless, but that knowledge did little to put his enhanced limbic system at ease. His implant was pumping adrenaline into his bloodstream, making his breathing ragged and his movements twitchy. Doing his best to suppress the artificial fight-or-flight response, the spear-wielding Glatorian looked back at his allies, and signaled them over with a jerky wave. "Looks clear," he said in a low tone, though his voice sounded strained. He forced himself to lower the spear's tip until it rested against the cave floor. OOC: @a goose @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @~Xemnas~ IC: Skrall - Bone Hunter Stronghold Skrall did not stop to follow the gaze of his compatriots as he walked about the wagons, trying to complete a cursory inspection before Atakus returned. It was easy enough to guess what they were looking at; those Skrall called to the Sisters' chambers had to go somewhere, since their brothers would not suffer their presence and hadn't the courtesy to put them out of their misery. It was a given that most would pass through this place, as they were suited to little else than the purposes the Bone Hunters had for them. An unbroken Skrall was already nearly incapable of surviving in the South, he knew (for such was the subject of a great deal of pondering of which all Skrall were guilty, but to which none would admit). A broken Skrall, however, was incapable of surviving anywhere that he was not given food and simple, easy tasks. The Skrall in this respect was not so different before and after the Sisters had selected him; both led lives defined by structure and authority. From wake to sleep, one's day was defined by the authority of one's superior. From the rations he ate, to the tasks he performed, he lived within a cage made from the will of another. The difference - aside from the veneer of honor to which the Skrall clung so dearly - was that the unbroken Skrall filled the cage of his orders like water filled a cracked vessel, pushing at the walls and spilling out from any gap. An unbroken Skrall would trade his rations for drugs from the South, push himself to complete his tasks early, and find a secluded spot to look up at the sky without being observed. Broken Skrall, on the other hand, were prone to standing slack-jawed when not occupied. He finished his walk about the wagons, and frowned. Atakus was still nowhere to be seen. He wondered what the Agori was talking about with the barbarians' leader. A simple exchange wouldn't take so long... That business Fero mentioned must be something more complex. Which meant it was quite likely that Skrall wouldn't learn any more details about it. OOC: @a goose @BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

IC, Aurax: Iron Canyon Aurax grunted in acknowledgment before turning to the rest of the group. "I'll take whatever shift nobody wants," he said bluntly. OOC:@Burnmad @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Nato G @a goose

IC: Skrall (Bone Hunter Stronghold, Marketplace) - Witchcraft! Ah, of course - their games. Skrall had nearly forgotten. But would the south really abandon their independence, something they clearly prized by refusing to truly unite under one banner, merely because the Skrall would utterly demolish them in their arenas? Though, given how demoralizing that might be, they may eventually give up purely to save themselves further degradation- Wait, what was everyone looking at? There was… what once, may have been Skrall, behind metal bars, watching them. He gave a glance to the scout, as if to say ‘see what I’m talking about?’ Wait, did he really just say he didn’t believe in witchcraft? They had a conversation about this on the way here Skrall could only half-remember - did he really not believe that existed? How had he survived this long? Something just crossed Skrall’s mind. Logically, both the Renegades and the southerners must have females - unless they grew like plants, which somehow Skrall doubted. And, just as logically, these females must have powers of their own. Hopefully, this disqualified them from raiding, or the arena. Skrall would raise this point, but he had been obliquely commanded to be silent, so he did so. @Vezok's Friend @Mel @a goose @Burnmad @oncertainty @Nato G IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, the Tower) - Easy Come, Easy Go Now, what Taldrix wanted to say was that she wasn’t offended at all, because she knew that the fault lied with the average Gatherer, half as smart as a Zesk and about twice as ugly, but that might not be the best thing to say to someone who shared the Zesk’s four eyes. What she was about to say may also not be the best thing, but if she pretended to be subservient too much, he might get suspicious. “I imagine you told Crucius and the others what you’ve told me - or a version of it, anyway. I can’t say it offends me. Who wouldn’t pledge allegiance to you if they were convinced of ULTIMATE POWER being their reward?” Something takes over Taldrix, as she looms over the map. “The desert would be at our mercy.” And then she snaps back to normal. “Of which there is none.” Now, if it turned out whatever was left in the canyon wasn’t as impressive as the Ghost made it sound, or if they lost too many men to the plague or the beasts known to roam that area trying to uncover it… well. If the Ghost thought it was easy gaining control, he shouldn’t be surprised how easy it would be to lose it all if he couldn’t keep his promise. Even if Crucius and those two buffoons outside still stood by him after that, they’d be significantly outnumbered by the rest of the Gatherers, and Taldrix sincerely doubted even a Great Being could survive that many angry people with sharp implements. @a goose

IC: Gayle - Iron Canyon Cave No one wants to stand watch, she thought to herself, resisting the temptation to give voice to the remark. Instead, she said "I'm happy to take the next watch," and followed Tueris towards the cave. OOC: @Burnmad @oncertainty @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui @a goose

IC: Tueris (Staff NPC; Valley of Death) Though Tueris looked unimpressed with the quiver in the the Vulcanusian’s voice and the condescending tone of the Tajunian, he held his tongue, and nodded. “Alright. We rest here, and keep watch in two-person shifts. I’ll take the first, and the rest of you can decide the remaining assignments amongst yourselves.” He walked towards the cave as he spoke, hardly even looking at the rest of the party. OOC: @Burnmad @oncertainty @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui @Nato G

IC: Mard & Ahmoa - Training Ground, outskirts of Atero Play it cool, Ahmoa thought, planting the handle-end of the axe in the sand and crossing his hands atop the blade. "You're right on one count, ma'am, but sadly mistaken on another. We follow the Grand Tournament season as closely as we can, we could be said to be "fans"; alas our position does not afford us the luxury of travelling to see the bouts themselves." Play it cool, Mard thought, awkwardly hugging the bundle of javelins to his chest and trying not to let any spill. "Yeah, we don't own this joint, we're just staff. Our boss, that's the lucky sonovabitch who jets all across the desert for the Gee-Tee. And every other damn fight. 'Business trips', my be-hind." Mard had no fear of admonishment for his comments, given the target of them was scarcely present for anyone to report them. Ahmoa was caught halfway between rolling his eyes and chuckling at Mard as he shuffled away to stow the javelins in the equipment shed, deciding on neither. "We look after the grounds while the proprietor is tending to his many-other ventures. As such, it is rare for us to attend Tournament matches even when they come Atero-way, given those tend to be our busiest seasons." The Vulcanusian put on his best customer-facing smile. "Don't fret, after tonight's performance we'll be sure to keep an eye and ear out for your names in the Tournament roster. Should either of you make it to the Atero stages, and if fortune smiles on us, you may even see us ring-side." He didn't even tell this to every client, honest. "You'll definitely see me at the betting tables!" Mard exclaimed as he returned, dusting off his hands. "Lorqua, your odds just went up." His excitement was only half-put-on, the green guard known to make the odd wager. "It would only be fair for me to put some coinage down on Lutenus here, then." Ahmoa replied with a grin, and no intent of following through on that. OOC: @oncertainty @Toru Nui Apologies! I've been remiss in posting these boys for some months now 😅

IC: (CelTech workshop, Tajun) "Celrys to perform external diagnostic...? Test Del I?" “Exactly right, Del. But this is a test with no wrong answers – just give the response you find to be most fitting.” Celrys turned away from Del, producing two large, flat metal ovals, with strange cylinders attached. With a flourish, he unfolded them into two chairs; one he offered to Skyra, the other he took for himself. At last, he turned once more to Del. “Now, are you sitting comfortably?” ”Yeah, I’m feeling pretty comfortable.” Skyra responds as she sits down, even if she wasn’t the target of the question. For as much as the Ferrumite struggled to conceptualise 'comfort', they did seem to register the implicit command, turning and reclining back into the patient chair. A thumb rose from a closed hand at their side, signalling in the affirmative. “Then we’ll begin,” Celrys smiled, the scope over his eye sliding back into place, its glassy surface now rendered opaque by a dim glow. “Now, this examination will take the form of a series of questions. We’ll start off simple, in order to establish a baseline: what village are we currently in?” A deceptively complex question if one still doesn't quite grasp what a village is. Del focused hard, tracing back along previous lines of conversation and inquiry, lines now joining blazingly fast between dots of ever-increasing proximity. <<Find Celrys. Find. Locate. Location. Skyra Daring the best driver. Driver. Drive. Go. From and to. To Tajun. Tajun location. Celrys here in location. Celrys in Tajun. Tajun.>> "Tajun." Del droned. "Tajun what village are we—" they paused, reassessing. "...what village we are in. “Fascinating.” Celrys couldn’t help but lean forward in his seat. “Now, what is my name?” "Celrys." Del responded with startlingly minimal delay. Easy, names were established back in Atero. Their eyes left the ceiling and fell on the owner of that name. "Celrys you." “Very good. What about your companion, here? What’s her name?” "Skyra Daring the best driver." Their gaze now turning to the Tesaran. It became apparent that Del considered that their full name; still a ways to go. Skyra grinned, looking at Del. “****** right I am~” She'd been good about keeping quiet during the test so far, at least till now. Celrys couldn’t resist smiling, though he quickly suppressed it, adopting a studiously professional expression as he refocused his attention on Del. “And what about your name?” The tiniest, imperceptible to anyone but maybe Celrys, hesitation. The infinitesemal, non-zero, doubt. The name from the artificer's logs played on a thousand loops in a thousandth of a second. "Del I." the Iron Tribal stated, asserted. ]Celrys nodded, seriously. “And what village are you from, Del?” Got us out of Ferrum. <<Out of Ferrum. From and to. Ferrum. Ferrum Plague. Ferrum.>> "Ferrum is a village, like Tajun." they parroted. "Del I from Ferrum village...?" From their perspective, Del was from Ferrum as much as they were from Atero as much as they were from the deep desert. Inconclusive. “I see. Well, perhaps we can skip the ‘childhood memories’ section; how about some maths?” Though Celrys smiled sympathetically, there was a knowing glint in his eye. “What is three plus three?” "Six." Instant. “Three multiplied by three?” "Nine." Instant. “Three divided by three.” "One." Instant. “Three minus three.” "Zero." Like a ping-pong match. “The square root of three hundred and thirty-three, rounded to three significant figures.” "Eighteen point two." “Divided by two?” "Nine point one." “Divided by zero.” Tick. "Inconclusive. Non-conclusive" Nice try. Celrys smirked. “Multiplied by zero.” "Zero." Instant. “Excellent.” Celrys leaned back, looking satisfied. “Logic problems next. A woman orders a prosthetic right arm; she lost her original arm in an accident. The prosthetic is installed and works exactly according to specifications. Has it always been her arm?” "No." Not as quick as the maths test but remarkable in the firmness of the conclusion. Del did not show their working. “There are two ropes in front of you; each takes exactly one hour to burn, but they do so at inconsistent rates. Some segments may burn faster or slower than others, and you have no way to tell which are which. How can you use the ropes to measure forty-five minutes?” This took a little longer for the Ferrumite to puzzle out, although time is subjective and 'two seconds' is a longer span of time than 'two nanoseconds'. "Burn two end of one rope. Burn one end of two rope. Burn two end of two rope when one rope finish burn. Time when two rope finish burn: forty-five minutes." Celrys nodded. “Two men stand before two doors; only one can take you to your destination. One man only tells the truth, the other tells only lies. With only one question, how would you learn from them which door to choose?” The underlying language of a good riddle was pure logic, as was Del's. The overlying language still needed some work, a piecemeal of limited vocabulary and patchwork mimicry. Thus some words, and their adjoined meanings, slipped through the myriad cracks. <<Clarification.>> "Query: what truth is? What lies is?" Celrys perked up, sitting upright. “Truth is fact. Lies are not. For instance, it would be true to say that my name is Celrys; it would be a lie to claim that my name is Skyra Daring.” Rapid extrapolation. <<Facts, not. Truth, lies. One man would tell door to destination. One man would tell door not to destination. One question.>> An answer in the form of a— "Query: which door would not-you man tell to choose?” The meaning was hopefully communicated adequately. “Would you walk through the door the man answers with, or the other?” "Other door. Truth-man tell lies-door that lies-man tell. Lies-man tell lies-door that lies-man lies that truth-man tell. Truth. Lies." Cement filling cracks. “Perfect. One last puzzle: A woman orders a prosthetic right arm. She pays up-front. The parts are acquired only after she makes her order, to her specification, and it is tailored specifically for her. Once it is complete, she immediately claims it, and it is installed. Has it always been her arm?” Another linguistic trait to experiment with. An impressive five seconds passed. "...Yes. Always been her arm, not always been her arm." Celrys was absolutely beaming; if not for his earlier denial, he would seem every bit the proud parent. “Absolutely fantastic. This is simply marvellous.” He turned his chair to face Skyra. “Well, bad news first: Del here is dealing with some serious brain damage. It would take tests I’d rather not subject them to in order to confirm the exact cause and nature, but as you yourself have doubtless noticed, amnesia is the primary symptom.” Skyra nods solemnly, even the driver knowing when to be serious. “Right, I figured something like that was up.” He looked once again to Del. “The good news is that your short-term memory is in perfect working order, and your other cognitive functions are performing remarkably well, especially given the circumstances. There are only two lingering questions that remain: the first is your ability to convert short-term memories into long-term, and the second is the matter of your nervous system at large. I would like to observe you over the course of the next few days – not twenty-four seven, just a few check-ups – and, in addition to this, I would like to perform another test tomorrow. This one would be rather… different, in format, focusing primarily on your adrenal response and your physical coordination. Is this acceptable to the both of you?” <<Memory. . .>> As with many other things, the capacity for long-term memory had not occurred to Del. They set about performing an assessment of the events of the last few days, their own internal diagnostic; back past the long drive across the roiling dunes, the faces of denizens of a dive bar in Atero, waking up in a training ground tended to by a kindly Agori couple. Beyond that, there was... there was… A voice but no words. An answer but no answer. "Brain damage. Del I... damage?" they said more to themself than either Celrys or Skyra. Subjectivity and unsurety crept back into their voice. One would almost swear their tone was troubled. The truth of their scenario eluded them. Truth. It was vital they know. Anything less than optimal was un— "Acceptable. Just a few check-ups. Another test tomorrow." ”Well if Del is cool with it then so am I, guess we’ll be seeing you tomorrow Doc.” “Tomorrow, then,” Celrys said with a smile. OOC: Big thanks to @Techn0geist and @Snelly for the jam!

IC: Lutenus (Outskirts of Atero, Training Ground) - Eye See You The Glatorian’s head snaps to gaze down on Mard and Ahmoa, cyber-eye looming over them, as if looking straight through them. His smile said ‘OK, I believe you,’ but his eye said ‘you ####ing liars’. “Kind of you to say, but there’s no need for…” But then, his voice trails off, and his smile fades, replaced by tiredness and confusion. “For… for… for…” The eye loses focus on the two Agori and the aperture begins opening and closing rapidly while making noises it probably shouldn’t be making. “For your ah, ‘pity bet’, as it were.” He finishes, and suddenly its as if nothing strange happened at all, and he begins to walk away. But then… “Well, we should be going - oh!” As he pretends to only now suddenly remember, he stops and turns back to the training ground proprietors. “I never asked. Who was that Iron Glatorian you were with, earlier? I believe I vaguely remember them from somewhere…” He did not, of course, but moving his gaze towards the horizon while holding his chin in his left hand in thought may convince them he did. @Techn0geist @oncertainty IC: Vraek (Tajun Arena, Hotel Reception) - No Reservations About a Reservation Though she had briefly entertained notions of letting Jeizmel stay with her at her lodgings in Tajun, Vraek knew this couldn’t be so. Her room at the arena’s hotel would be a one-Glatorian sized room - if Metus knew what was good for him that was, as bookings for people who weren’t named Strakk or Gelu were under his jurisdiction. Or at least, Strakk was. Gelu had quit and taken up a disreputable mercenary profession. Which left the position of Iconox’s Second Glatorian open… not that Vraek cared about that sort of thing. She didn’t. Didn’t at all. Catching a brief glance of what she assumed was just a sleeping vagrant and not the recently murdered body of Tajun’s Atero councilor, she enters the arena building. Vraek walks up the counter and dings the bell. Reserved or not, she refused to spend the night in Scarabax’s Delight. Again. @a goose IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, the Tower) - Be Aware of His Stinger Tail! She was beginning to doubt that the Ghost respected anything, much less his own people- Wait… four eyes… were… could the Zesk… the Sand Tribe… what?! Taldrix wants to look to see if there was a stinger tail or a scar where a tail would be on the Ghost’s waist, but there’s no way for her to do that without looking like she was checking out his- “No sir, I believe that’s everything. I’ll continue to monitor the Aula Agoria and report on her condition.” @a goose IC: Xyde (Iron Canyon, Cave) - Bat Cave “I’ll take second.” Xyde trudges into the cave alongside the others. It didn’t seem any more inviting than the valley itself, but it was a shelter - in the same vein that a dagger was a scalpel. They imagine that this is the sort of place that Ash Agori were expected to live in and swap stories about any recently ‘defiled’ graves. What was it with people demanding that their belongings be buried alongside them? They were DEAD. Did they think they’d be able to take their prized possessions with them into that undiscovered country, from which no traveler returns? Hopefully, the people of Ferrum hadn’t been summoned to that place just yet… @Nato G @~Xemnas~ @a goose @oncertainty @Burnmad

IC: Jeizmel, Tajun Streets As Vraek had noticed, evening was rapidly drawing in; and down here below surface level the shadows were already long. Getting work would have to wait until the next day; for now, Jeiz figured her more pressing concern had to be finding a room at an inn. From there, maybe she could talk to the owner in the morning, see if they were hiring any extra hands during the tournament season; and so with that thought in mind, Jeizmel glanced around for the nearest signs pointing in the direction of the Arena. She pointedly ignored the various rustles and sounds of the oncoming Tajun night, the subtle hints in the shadows that pointed towards petty crimes being planned to carry out once the cover of darkness fell. Wasn't her business, not here so far from her treasured home of Iconox... still, Jeiz fingered her new bracelet, wondering if even here she couldn't do something. Waiting tables in some bar might pay her way through life, but wouldn't be satisfying; maybe Tajun had some kind of law enforcement that she could hook up with, do a bit of good for her living even in this cesspool of a town. A thought for the morning. She scampered through the last fading slivers of daylight. The Arena Hotel was probably way out of her budget, if they even had free rooms this close to the tournament which she doubted; but surely there were other less-prestigious places to stay around, too. Just had to find one. ooc: Jeizmel is open to interaction!

IC: Escus - Mouth of the Cave, the Valley of Death Escus knelt at the cave's mouth as Selamat called back to the others. He stared, unblinking, into its depths. On the one hand, he was letting his eyes adjust to the stark difference in light. On the other, there was a certain fervor in the gesture. It looked almost devotional. At once, he rose again. A thoughtful hrm emerged from the back of his throat. "Hasty, perhaps even dangerously hasty... But I concur," he said, gesturing with the head of his axe toward the mass of resting bats. He let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. "They wouldn't be sleeping in the same cave as something that would, well... eat them. Not much that wouldn't eat them that would trouble us. Unless it's something... strange. That is all to say, clear enough." He took another step forward, past the young Glatorian. One eye shut, his head inclined to one side, Escus continued to stare into the cave. OOC: @Burnmad @a goose @Nato G @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui IC: Lorqua - Training Ground, Outskirts of Atero A skeptical look worn openly on her face, Lorqua followed Lutenus' lead in collecting up the Javelins—scattered around the arena as they were—and returning them to Mard and Ahmoa. As the adrenaline of the fight left her, Lorqua's other concerns came to the fore. If they wanted to know more about what was going on with that Ferrumite Glatorian who had stumbled into the bar, it seemed like these two were the ones to ask. Lutenus couldn't be planning to just walk right out of here, without taking such a beautiful opportunity, could he? Even if he was, Lorqua would dare anything. She couldn't resist some probing. "You two gentlemen must be going Grand-Tournament-way eventually, yeah? Hard to imagine a pair of trainers like yourselves wouldn't be tournament fans on top of that." OOC: @Toru Nui @Techn0geist IC: Skrall - Markets, the Bone Hunter Stronghold Skrall's glance follows the others', the instincts of a unit—or a herd—easily taking over. The sight of the once-Skrall makes his teeth clench. He's never seen one from this close. To know that any one of them could be so reduced is troubling. His nostrils flare. The air of the marketplace at once seems sickly. A miasma. "If they see that more than they see us," he says, speaking quietly. "It would give anyone strange ideas. But out here... what do we do?" It seemed as important a question as any; being observed by what-was-once-Skrall, and observing in turn. Were Skrall simply to turn away? Skrall was asking for the purposes of unit cohesion, of course, but also because he had absolutely no idea. OOC: @a goose @Mel @Vezok's Friend @Burnmad @Toru Nui

IC: The Ghost (The Tower) “Our mercy?” The Ghost’s grin grew wider still. “You’re quite open in your ambitions. I can respect that.” Somehow, he seemed oddly satisfied, as if Taldrix had said something that pleased him greatly. “Now, unless there's anything else, you may take your leave. You know how to reach me.” OOC: @Toru Nui

Please don't bother Lego's customer service on this.

At the risk of sounding harsh: what fans? And where are they talking about it? I just had a skim of the main Hero Factory-related sites, and the only active username I see on most of them is yours. According to the changelog on HS01, you're the only person who's contributed to it in any way in months. The same is true of the Heropedia wiki. The Custom Hero Factory wiki has a little activity happening, but it all seems to be in relation to a single ongoing Youtube series. r/HeroFactory only has 369 members, weeks go by between posts, replies are in the single digits, and once again it looks like you're the most frequent poster by a vast margin. The only outlier is r/HeroFactoryLego, which has 3.4k members, and averages few posts a day, but that one seems to be used for general CCBS MOC-posting now rather than HF-specific discussion. I'm not saying that HF has no fans, or that it doesn't deserve to be remembered, but the general attitude of the wider community seems ambivalent at best. No one else seems to be anywhere near as fixated with the theme as you appear to be. Instead of sitting around making wistful posts hoping others will recover old content for you, why not create new content of your own, or engage with some of the existing fan content that's currently running? (Such as Master Inika's current HF story on this site).

I called LEGO Customer Service for the first time in 2006 when I bought Brutaka and his weapon pieces weren't included, and they sent me replacements for free. I called them again in 2008 over some of the new joint pieces breaking and also received complementary replacements (which also later broke, but that's not Customer Service's fault). They're not really there to answer the kind of questions you were asking.

Three more levels fully completed, despite needing multiple attempts for one of the minikits (certainly easier when its at the beginning of a level rather than the end). Also, don't worry too much about not affording those larger stud multiplier red parcels right away. Keep in mind there are three bonus levels, and while the first is that Young Indy story level, the other two are the "collect a million studs" type of bonus levels, so you'll definitely get there (even if you must repeat those bonus levels a few times to get the several millions of studs like I had to). Anyway, thanks for letting us know you'll be off for the next two weeks, so I'll look forward to what's next when you come back.

The customer service page clearly lists the topics they're responsible for. No Lego representative is going to answer questions about sets that haven't been officially announced, and digging up archived content from long-dead themes isn't LCS' responsibility. Complaining that Lego's customer service didn't adequately answer questions that don't fall under their purview in the first place is like complaining that a restaurant couldn't service your car. It's not their job.

For our fine online friend and artist finest, the yearly fest had been too long put to rest! @Taka Nuvia A very tiny honorary Taka fairy for yee, a meager mite 3x3 Graphite Bite, unfit for so accomplished an artist’s sight, but made with mirth for your day of birth! https://flic.kr/p/2pKi6ov May your magic day be full of confectionery and friendly fairies! Thanks be for your spirit, ever a gift, when to these old lands your wings again lift!

Prologue – Dying Of The Light From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. Deep down, everyone’s afraid of the dark. It’s a powerful, primal thing, an instinct born long before any of us were created. In the dark, anything could be waiting. A ravenous rahi, a roving Rahkshi, Karzahni or Irnakk or Tren Krom or any one of the other nightmares of legend. But now we know there’s nothing waiting for us in the dark. Nothing at all. And somehow, that makes it even more frightening. Two years have passed since everything changed. Two years since the Turaga of Metru Nui sent the universe’s greatest Toa heroes to Karda Nui to reawaken the Great Spirit, a mission from which they never returned. Two years since the day that the stars formed the shape of the Kanohi Kraahkan and Makuta Teridax proclaimed his dominion over creation. Two years since war and strife wracked our universe. Two years since the terrible earthquake, and the even more terrifying stillness that followed it. Two years since the lightstones started to die. It started small, at first. Old stones fizzling out, as they sometimes did. But then newer stones started to die as well. Even the fresh ones dug out of the mines seemed dimmer. And then, within only a few weeks, there were no functioning lightstones left to be found. We could still hook them up to the city’s generators and charge them that way, but whatever had once empowered them naturally no longer worked. Soon, the same thing started to happen to our heatstones. And it wasn’t just Metru Nui. Boats began to arrive, ferrying Matoran, Turaga, and Toa from shores far afield, where the dark and cold had rendered entire lands unliveable. I myself was among them. Only the heat of the Great Furnace and the lifegiving light of Twin Suns still shining high overhead had kept Metru Nui from meeting the same fate. The city welcomed the refugees with open arms, of course. More Matoran meant more workers to help keep the city functioning enough for us all to continue surviving. More Turaga meant more wisdom to aid in navigating our new situation. More Toa meant more protectors. However, we soon learned of one land that our fellow Matoran had been unable to leave. Though those who sailed past or docked to resupply said its streets remained busy and its foundries still spewed smoke, Xia hadn’t sent a single ship our way. A team of Toa were sent to meet with the Toa of Xia and arrange the relocation of their Matoran, but of the six who departed, only three returned. The tidings they brought were grim: the Vortixx of Xia had slain their city’s Toa team and taken the Matoran as slaves, forcing them to work the power plants to keep their city alive. And when they’d learned of new Toa in their midst, the Vortixx had promptly tried to kill them as well. Debate raged for days, but the decision was never in doubt. The last fifty Toa in existence departed for Xia, intent on liberating the trapped Matoran. Weeks passed, and a lone boat limped back to Metru Nui, bearing four injured Toa and a few dozen rescued Matoran. Their report on the situation in Xia was a dire one. Embroiled in a battle to liberate the Matoran, the Toa had found themselves caught in an unexpected crossfire. From the South had come the Dark Hunters, intent on taking the city’s technology and power for themselves. And from the East had come the Skakdi hordes, seemingly motivated by nothing more than a defiant desire to end their lives fighting in the universe’s last great war, instead of dying quietly in the dark. We waited for our Toa to return. We prayed to our absent Great Spirit. Some even offered prayers to Makuta Teridax. Neither god answered us. A few brave Matoran even boarded a boat and set sail for Xia. They didn’t return either. And still, the rest of us waited. And waited. More than a year passed before the Toa finally came home, but the world they found was not the one they had left behind. And the world they made was not one any of us expected.

It's the 20th anniversary of the Metru Nui saga's beginning. So this years theme is the entire Metru Nui saga! Toa Metru, Hordika, Vahki, Dark Hunters. Not just characters, locations, items, or even vehicles! Rules: Your design must be a simple design, one color, and must be medium sized. Your design must also be black on a clear white background. This makes it easier for the screen printing process. You may post your entries in this thread, and have until the end of May to submit your design. The Prize: The maker of the winning design will receive a free T-Shirt! ADDITIONAL INFO: The winning design will be chosen through a voting process of the members of BZP. Colors will be suggested and chosen by the members as well. Feel free to ask any questions if needed. That's all for now. Have fun, and good luck!

IC: Skrall (Markets; the Bone Hunter Stronghold) The scout glanced in the indicated direction, keeping his head still so as not to give away his redirected attention. Even so, he was caught off-guard by the singularly pitiable sight behind the bars, and felt his face contort in disgust. As if reading his comrade’s mind, he spoke quietly: “That one was broken long before it came here.” He knew the look in the not-Skrall’s eyes; living in Roxtus these past few years, he had seen such wretches more than once. They went into Skull Mountain as warriors, and came out… something else. What they did, they did for the furtherment of the Skrall race – it was the scout’s belief that this was a noble sacrifice for the good of all. These husks were the remains of heroes. But that was a belief that even he would not dare speak aloud, and it made the sight of them no less unsettling. “I don't believe in witchcraft, but such sights give me pause.” OOC: @Vezok's Friend @Mel @oncertainty @Burnmad @Toru Nui IC: The Ghost (The Tower) “Interesting.” The Ghost fixed his four-eyed gaze upon Taldrix, his wide smile brimming with condescension. “You are a quick study. Tell me, Taldrix: does it offend you, that I so easily came to control your people?” OOC: @Toru Nui IC: (Valley of Death) The cave opening yawned back at the two Glatorian, pitch-black and silent. A gentle sussuration passed along the ceiling above; bats, a small and relatively docile variety, who seemed uninterested in their new guests. OOC: @Burnmad

IC: Skrall (Bone Hunter Stronghold, Marketplace) - Be Careful What You Wish For Skrall began mulling it over. The scout’s comparison of him to a poorly-handled Spikit seemed to indicate that he believed that he only wanted to crush the Renegades because they were closer, not because they were… repulsive. They treated their slaves abominably and won them through foul means. The Skrall did not do such things… not in the same way, which was the crucial difference. There was no similarly between the Legion and the Renegades apart from something of a shared origin, nothing more. Nothing. As for his proposed strategy of attacking the tribe with the food first, this too sickened him. He would have vocally objected, but the Special Operations Skrall had commanded silence, without outright saying he was commanding silence, which was also insulting. Defeating the south by starving them would lack honor, especially since… Skrall searched for the right word. It was apparent that most of them were servants, but were not slaves, but also not warriors. They had those strange circular pieces of metal with little value to barter among themselves with. How very strange. The deaths of these people would stain the Legion’s conquest. Surely, their target should instead be… He froze as he contemplated the implications of what the scout proposed. A victory through such dishonorable means was bad enough, but then there was the tribe with the water, and the tribe that forged using lava, using the metals from the other two tribes. The southern tribes could only survive independently of each other through trading and their games. His eyes go wide in realization. There was no feasible way for the Skrall to achieve an honorable victory without either conquering every tribe at once - which clearly, none of his brothers here would have any confidence in - or by striking at their hub, the city known as Atero. A city full of those who were not warriors. Skrall decided he preferred thinking with his sword. @Burnmad @a goose @BULiK @oncertainty @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @Mel IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, the Tower) - Her Understanding “Yes. I think I do understand.” Taldrix said, nodding her head. “You came to us, and not the tribes, because we are easier to control. None of that democracy garbage in the tribes, where you win based on how well you can lie and how much wealth you can throw around. You came to us, because if they helped you, you’d have to give them their share. They might even have tried to destroy the ruins, if it conflicted with whatever religious nonsense is being peddled nowadays. And the Skrall would never listen to you, being so far up their own backsides that their meals are recyclable.” She tapped where Ferrum is on the map. “I also understand that you were so interested in Ferrum’s plague because it happens to be close to where these ruins are. We’ll be at risk of contracting it the more we operate in this region, so we need as much information on it as we can…” She turned to the Ghost. “This would be my reasoning if I were you, at least, sir.” @a goose

At the suggestion of Master Inika, I’ve edited another map of the Matoran Universe, this time to depict the known territories of the various canon Makuta. The original suggestion was to do a colour-coded map, but that ended up looking very cluttered, so I decided to go for a simpler style. According to Greg Farshtey, there were once 100 Makuta, and only a handful of them are covered by canon. Even so, based on the amount of territory controlled by the Makuta we do know of, it seems like a lot of the unknown Makuta probably didn’t have regions, or controlled islands so minor they weren’t even worth putting on the map. Starting from the top, our main man Teridax was the assigned Makuta of Metru Nui, while the Brotherhood’s alleged best fighter, Icarax, took over Karzahni. Krika was originally assigned to the north part of the northern continent, and later expanded his territory to include Zakaz after Spiriah’s fall from grace. Sharing the Northern Continent was Gorast, who is specified to have ruled the lower region known as the Tren Krom peninsula. Based on this division, it seems like at least one more Makuta must have had a claim to part of the Northern Continent. Tridax ruled Nynrah, biker bro Antroz ruled Xia, and Vamprah was responsible for Odina (I guess he sucked at his job, since he clearly never did anything about the Dark Hunters). I feel like Greg only vaguely glanced at the map when he decided on Chirox’s territory, since his region includes two completely disconnected islands that are nowhere near each other (one in the hand, one in the leg). He controls Keetongu’s and Tobduk’s homelands (the latter being better known by its current name, Visorak). (I realised after posting that I'd also made a mistake here myself, drawing a line to the wrong island). Chirox-but-with-a-better-colourscheme Mutran controlled the “central part of the Southern Continent”, which is probably intended to refer to Voya Nui. Prior to being deposed, Miserix was the Makuta of Destral. As far as we know, no other Makuta formally claimed that title after Miserix was imprisoned. Bitil is said to have controlled the west chain of the southern islands. However, the map claims that no one has explored further than Artidax, so Bitil’s territory likely ends there. It’s worth noting here that while Spiriah was formerly the Makuta of Zakaz, some pages on BS01 say that he also controlled Artidax. However, there seems to be no citation for this, and since he’s in exile I’ve left him off the map entirely. Finally, a couple of Makuta we don’t have canon appearances for: Kojol was the Makuta of Artakha, prior to raiding the place and getting assassinated by the Order Of Mata Nui, while the Makuta of Stelt is exactly what it says on the tin. This leaves a number of locations unclaimed. Given the way most territories have been divided up, there would have been at least one more Makuta for the Northern continent, and potentially two or three more dividing up the Southern. The large island above Keetongu’s homeland may have had a Makuta (unless it was also included in Chirox’s territory). The small island between Nynrah and Odina could also have had a Makuta (unless it fell into Tridax or Vamprah’s territories). The two islands up near Stelt and Xia (Nocturn’s homeland?) would have likely had at least one Makuta assigned to them, possibly two. I’m less sure about the other side of the map, since we have no information to confirm if the Makuta had any major presence at all in that entire arm. There are also a whole bunch of other islands out there that don’t appear on the map but are mentioned in-story, some of which would have likely had Makuta overseers as well. Let me know if there's anything I've missed, or if you have any suggestions. I'd also love to hear if anyone's assigned territories to their own fanon Makuta.

Chapter 10 The craft landed on the outskirts of Bardobi City, though with Motherboard plugged into their planet-wide defense grid, the villains certainly knew of their approach. The only reason they were not blasted out of the sky, Wane surmised, was because the villains wanted to see if they were emissaries of the Factory come to accept the villains' terms. That, or the villains looked forward to an old-fashioned fight with the privilege of seeing their victims' faces up close. From a distance, Bardobi Prime appeared a clean, crisp green. The planet-wide ecumenopolis was covered with artificial foliage and automated self-maintenance systems, both of which appeared green. The capital, though, stood out by its new color: blue, the color of Motherboard's corrupting influence. "That's another drone, point five-three of us," Rush announced. It was the fourth such drone the group had noticed. "Ignore it, for now," Fall ordered. "They're not going to give us trouble until the bad bots realize we're not here to accept their terms." Crossing the hill, the three Heroes found the capital city. Even from a distance, they could make out the look of terror on the civilians' faces. The civilian hostages formed a ring of living shields, protecting the crooks from a direct assault. The civilians were not physically bound in place. Had they all run away at the same time, some of them might have escaped. The dozens upon dozens of floating sentinels, though, made it unlikely the survivors would be very many. Fall leaned into Rush as they approached. "You ready?" Rush replied: "It's charging up. Get Gravedigger talking. I just need another minute or two." Gravedigger, clad in black armor with a skull-like helmet covering his face, looked more like a student-bot dressed up for a costume party than an actual criminal mastermind. Wane supposed that was part of his cover, though, appearing less fearsome than he really was. Motherboard and Heatwave, though, looked every bit as dangerous as he had been led to believe, standing on either side of their leader. "Welcome, Heroes!" Gravedigger called. His voice, too, was high and not particularly commanding. Wane wondered just what Gravedigger had said to his two accomplices to gain their trust in the first place. "I trust your creator has made the right choice?" Fall stepped forward, nodding to Rush before she did. "That depends," she called out in response. "He's told us, against my own advice, to offer you one last chance to release these innocent bots. It's not too late, Gravedigger. Call this off now, and your cooperation will be duly noted at your trial." Behind his mask, Gravedigger might have frowned. "You don't get it, do you, Hero?" he said. "The cards are not in your hand. Perhaps you need a demonstration..." Gravedigger whispered to Motherboard, who, with a wave of her hand, beckoned a pair of floating sentinels to single out a random civilian from the trembling crowd. Goaded to the center of the square, clear in the sight of everyone, the civilian was made to kneel before the Heroes as the sentinels' weapons charged up. Rush's own device had been fully charged, though. Without a word, he raised his own arms and mentally activated his antivirus, sending a wave of power surging through the entire square. Every sentinel fell to the ground as the blue energy on the walls and floors, representing Motherboard's influence, fought chaotically against the green energy of the city's systems for control. One of the sentinels, as it fell, fired a blast of energy which narrowly missed the civilian's head. "Everyone, run!" Fall ordered, and chaos and pandemonium broke out in the square. The sentinels which had been hovering high above everyone were damaged when they struck the floor, but none of them had been fully disabled. In only a few minutes, Motherboard's influence would be reestablished, and since she knew what Rush was capable of now, she wouldn't just stand back while he recharged for another antivirus surge. Motherboard bore the full brunt of her power on Rush, swinging her powerful legs at his head, forcing him onto the defensive as he moved backward, careful not to bring their battle closer to any of the fleeing civilians. Heatwave moved against Wane, but Fall intercepted him, Heatwave's fireblasts and the constant stream of water from Fall's hose quickly covering the entire battlefield in a thick layer of misty fog. Wane could still see Gravedigger retreating deeper into the city, though, and following in pursuit, dodging blasts from the reactivated sentinels and distressed civilians rushing about. Exiting the storm of mist and screaming, Wane found his target attempting to board the Chain Reaper. Just as Gravedigger entered the craft, the cockpit about to close and seal, Wane's knife flew through the air, lodging itself in the seat by Gravedigger's leg and preventing the cockpit from properly sealing. As the villain reached down to remove the weapon, Wane himself flew through the air next, landing a kick to Gravedigger and sending him flying out of the side of his own vehicle. Retrieving his tool, Wane slowly moved toward his captive, who was still on his back, crawling backward away from him. "So, that's it?" Wane taunted. "Your plan's gone bad, now you're just leaving your friends to clean up your mess?" Beneath his mask, a smile was visible on Gravedigger's face. "I could say the same about you, couldn't I, Hero?" Wane stopped, his confidence shaken. It was all he had just to keep his grip on his weapon. "Oh, yes, I know all about you," Gravedigger continued. "You don't get as far as I have by not keeping your finger on the pulse of the galaxy. Your defection is the talk of the criminal underworld, you should know. Everyone has their own take on it. Sure, most of us think you're just plain coward, but not me." Standing up and dusting himself off, Gravedigger still stood shorter than Wane, but his confidence projected a much taller persona. "Why, now that you're here, the ideas are just coursing through me... Think about it, ex-Hero. Someone like you, with someone like me calling the shots, could get a lot done in this galaxy." Wane knew better than to take Gravedigger's offer seriously. At the same time, though, he knew that all Makuro was offering him was, as he had stated, "a head start." Even if this mission succeeded, it was either go back to the Factory, or go back on the run, with no allies or places to go. Gravedigger had networks, allies and safehouses. Makuro would never see him again. The sounds of battle were growing closer to them, though. Apparently, Gravedigger's lackies were falling back, hoping to regroup with their leader. Gravedigger wasted no time reminding Wane that he did not have all macrocycle: "So, what's it gonna be? A few more moments, and the choice will be made for you." Wane knew Gravedigger was right. If he did not make a choice, someone else, Gravedigger, Makuro, Fall, he did not know exactly who, would force him into another unwanted role. Wane would make his own choice. *** Fall and Rush inspected the site of the battle as Motherboard and Heatwave were loaded into the prisoner hold of their Hero Craft. The civilians were safe, but no one had seen Gravedigger or Wane. It was not until they had reached the center of the city that they discovered, with a rebar wrapped tightly around him, a diminutive figure, stripped of his armor and tools, trapped and left, as it were, to be found as a gift. "Is that who I think it is?" Rush asked in disbelief. "Gravedigger," Fall confirmed. "Only, without the mask." "Not to mention his ship," Rush added. He looked to his partner, an even more cynical dryness in his optical sensors than usual. "I've got a good guess what happened to both." *** As Wane had hoped, by the time the Heroes caught on to his plan, he was already clearing the planet's gravity well, preparing to take the nearest hyperspace route as far as it would go. Right as he was entering in the final calculations, the holo-projector lit up. Seeing no reason not to, Wane accepted the incoming transmission. "Gregory!" Fall cried. "What are you doing?" Wane had to admit, he had not been expecting her to appear so... emotional. So vulnerable. For just a microsecond, he wondered if he was making the right choice. But the microsecond passed, and only his resolve to forge his own destiny remained. "That's not my name anymore, Petunia," he said calmly. Picking up his new mask from beside him, he donned it. He could see the unique blend of shock and horror on Fall's face. "No, stop! You're making a mistake!" she pleaded. "We saved people, together, you and me! Didn't that feel good, Gregory? Didn't it feel like you were doing what you were made to do?" Gravedigger had to admit, a part of him had been hoping she would have contacted him before he jumped to hyperspace. But now that the moment was here, he found everything he had rehearsed in his head did not feel right to say. "I can't make it make sense to you," he admitted. "Maybe I'll never be able to fully justify it to myself, but this is something that I have to do. Maybe just doing 'what you were made to do' is something that sounds rewarding to you, but to me, it just sounds... suffocating." He took a deep breath. "I can't live a lie. I can't fill a role, answer to a name that someone else forced upon me." Punching in the final coordinates, he said with finality: "So, if you'd be so kind, my new name is Gravedigger." As the ship jumped to hyperspace, the transmission cut out. Even though there was now no one listening to him now, he still declared: "It's the name I chose for myself." The End Review Topic

idk I think with OP around there is no way we could possibly forget about it lol

That subreddit is quite interesting as it seems to be exactly what Lego had in mind for the theme. Lego intentionally simplified constraction because they felt Bionicle was too restrictive with its' complicated storyline and use of very specific pieces. Lego seemed to have gone through some kind of internal backlash to their early to mid 2000s days of distinctive characters with heavier focus on storylines. It was this exact marketing which pulled me in and from what I understand ninjago also follows this line (although its' story cannot hold a candle to Bionicle). This strategy seems to work whereas the HF strategy did not. Admittedly it would have been cool to see the world of Hero Factory fleshed out more as they could have had a cool universe with so many planets. Maybe there was a big intergalactic crime syndicate that caused the Hero Factory to form or something. Either way this caused a loss of interest in Lego on my end and to this day I have no interest in rekindling it.

look at that, there's no delete button for blog entries that you only uploaded to see if your blog still works guess this one is staying up oopsa doopsa

I mean I would say it's already been forgotten outside of this niche corner of the internet. I would even go as far as to say it was forgotten from its' inception as it was always an afterthought after Ninjago and Chima. I don't know if any numbers exist but I honestly believe a good chunk of people buying HF toys were those of us left over from Bionicle. From what I recall most actual kids at the time (defined as people below the age of 12) were more interested in Ninjago. Hero Factory certainly did last longer than most Lego themes but not enough to have a large fanbase today. Most people that have any interest in it today are mostly people interested in CCBS and don't seem to care for the very lackluster story and characters. That's what I seem to recall when I sold my collection of the stuff off. A lot of the costumers were people in it for the pieces. Admittedly these pieces were very good from a MOC perspective but other themes were also using them and Lego had wanted to simplify constraction since at least 2010 so I don't think it's right to credit Hero Factory specifically. The whole CCBS experiment has since ended and Lego no longer make anything resembling constraction in line with the original slizers theme. HF was just too bland and boring to make a significant dent in my memory.

Happy belated birthday, Taka! Hope you had a good one.

Solek: Ok, so maybe killing the creator of the universe was a bad plan Shadow Leech: I mean, it could have been worse. Solek: Oh thank Mata Nui it’s someon- wait, oh no it’s you. Wait, why is it you? Shadow Leech: I’m not 100% sure. Can you see anyone else? Solek: Nooooo.... can you? Announcer: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Shadow Leech: Yep. Hold on a second, someone else is yelling. Shadow Leech: Hey Announcer: Oh good, someone else still exi- LEECH!!!!!!!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO??????????? Shadow Leech: First, wow, nice warm welcome, second, I didn’t do anything. Solek: Liar. Who are you talking to? Shadow Leech: Announcer. Announcer: Yes? Shadow Leech: No, I was saying your name, I was talking to Solek. Solek: Announcer is there? Are you talking to him? Kirop: Mata Nui, my head Shadow Leech: Yeah I can see you both so I’m talking to you both. Well, see is an aggressive term for what I’m doing, I’m like sensing that you exist. Kirop: w-what? What are you talking about? Did I finally get sent to ******? Announcer: Wait, Leech, do you exist? Or are we just communicating with a hallucination of you? Shadow Leech: Hi Kirop, no, I don’t think this is ******, I’d be much happier if that were the case. Solek: Oh Kirop is there? Tell him he’s less real than I am right now. Ehlek: Is this what being fired feels like? You lose your job and the rest of existence is just an infinite white void? Shadow Leech: ****** I sure hope so. Hammox: You hope what??? What’s going on? Announcer: I knew this was a bad idea. Kirop: Oh please Mata Nui, not ******, I wasn’t that bad, I didn’t kill too many people, and when I did I only mildly enjoyed it. Solek: Me too Weapon: Ok so there’s the leech, where is everyone else? Osram: Leech??? What’s happening? What are you hoping for? DID YOU MESS EVERYTHING UP AGAIN? Shadow Leech: Ok, can everyone BE QUIET? *Everyone is silent, news crew continues to yell* Shadow Leech: Oh that’s not a good sign, I mean all you freaks too. *News crew quiets down.* Shadow Leech: Thank you. Now, you should all thank me that you’re not in an isolated void of your own consciousness like I am almost 100% of the time, seriously, you never ask about how I’m doing or how this all feels or how existing for 30 times as long as I should have is taking a toll on my mental faculties. But that’s not relevant right now. What’s relevant is that Cameraman: Oh thank Neptune I’m alive! I’m ALIIIIIIVE!!!! Producer: I’d say I have a headache but I’m not sure my head exists. Leech, what are you doing? Shadow Leech: I was just explaining before you rudely interrupted Solek: I didn’t say anything Announcer: I was completely silent! Kirop: Please not ****** please not ****** please not ****** Ehlek: I’m being very polite for once! Weapon: I’m about to be much more rude Shadow Leech: Well I’m trying my best here, can’t say this is much worse than the normal voices if we’re being honest. Producer: Oh my god if I’m one of the Leech’s delusions I’m going to lose it. Shadow Leech: RIGHT ok so here’s the deal. We killed Frezon and at the moment we did all of you stopped existing because you were in Frezon’s mind palace thingie, but since I was planning to betray you I had stored a part of my existence outside of the mind palace as a backup in case my plan failed, which it looks like it did. Solek: I KNEW IT I KNEW YOU WERE TRYING TO BETRAY US AGAIN!!!! Ehlek: I SHOULD HAVE SQUISHED YOU AGAIN WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE! Announcer: Ok that’s great and all but do you have a plan to make this not happen? *continued hubbub and yelling at the Leech* Shadow Leech: Hey wait a minute, where’s Carapar? Day 18 Carapar: Yippee!!! I did it! I killed Frezon. Now to go get a pizza. (leaves the empty news studio, walking down the empty streets towards a pizza parlor, also empty) Carapar: Free too! (eats pizza) *Commercial Break* Will the rest of the news crew escape? Will Carapar enjoy his pizza? Will anyone help me? This is Ultimate Rahkshi, I’m stuck in the commercials, I don’t know what happened, I think Frezon forgot about me until now again, guys we didn’t kill him, WE DIDN’T KILL HIM!!! Find out next time on....... BIONICLE NEWS!!!!

For when no one asks why BZP is still alive: We are the ducks 💙

Chapter 9 These moments, Wane was sure, were to be his last, at least his last moments as his own independent being. As the microseconds stretched painfully long, his bound body being pushed up into the Tower, he realized that no one would change their mind at the last second to save him. Fall, the only one in the universe he thought he could have trusted, looked aside. Was it shame or disinterest that made her turn her head? He would never know. In a few more moments, he might not remember this moment even happened. Then, the machine came to a screeching halt. Even at that great distance, Wane could see Makuro's mechanical eye twitch. "What is the meaning of this?!" the aged robot demanded, slamming his fists upon the railing. One of the technicians in the pits below meekly spoke up: "It's a Mission Manager, sir! One of them manually put in a full-stop on the Tower." Wane had never seen Mr. Makuro's face contort into an expression of such dissatisfaction. "I want that Mission Manager in this Tower!" Rush and Fall nodded to Makuro and raced out. The next few minutes for Wane were stressful ones. He dare not speak up, even though he knew, once this matter was ironed out, he would be in the same position he was before. This diversion had won him, maybe, ten more minutes of individuality. All the Mission Managers looked virtually identical, though little idiosyncrasies in how they moved or spoke gave them away. Zib always carried himself with unshakable self-assurance, while Thrift tended to pace around awkwardly whenever he did not know where to stand. The Mission Manager who was escorted in was not one Wane thought he recognized, at least not at first, until he recognized his incessant hand-wringing as that of Nelson Cold. Makuro regained his composure, listening intently to what Cold whispered to him without much comment, though the look of immense displeasure at the reprogramming's interruption did not once leave his visage. After Cold finished whispering to Makuro, Wane was removed from his restraints and escorted by the two Recon Team Heroes into a briefing room, far from the technicians, with Makuro and Cold. The lack of answers threatened to drive Wane mad. "What's going on?" he finally asked. Cold opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but then looked to Makuro first. Makuro shook his head no. "Consider yourself lucky, Wane," Makuro said. "Right before we could get underway, Professor Cold received a Priority 1 distress code. This mean that we'd need the Assembly Tower right away, so he disabled it remotely, as his training indicated he should do in such a situation." Professor Cold visibly breathed a sigh of relief at Makuro describing his actions positively. Makuro continued: "There are three villains at large on Bardobi Prime, besieging the Central Government Complex on Bardobi City," the founder explained. "They're all class-A villains, demanding the release of about a dozen crooks jailed on our site on the planet. If we don't comply, they're threatening to kill the governor, not to mention all the civilian bots who happen to be there now. There've already been casualties. There are other Hero teams available, but they're not as close as we are. Waiting for one of them to respond instead of the Heroes we have on hand now could cost extra lives." It took Wane a moment to process what Makuro was saying. Makuro nodded to Cold, who finally stepped forward and spoke: "Three dangerous villains, way too much for any of the rookies teams here on Makuhero Planet to handle," the Mission Manager said, wringing his hands more than ever. "So, that means we need three top-notch Heroes to go after them." He nodded to Fall, Rush, and Wane. "Me?!" Wane asked. "But I'm--" Mr. Makuro interrupted him. "What Cold said you were, a top-notch Hero. The reprogramming process takes too long than we have. There are innocent bots in trouble now." It looked like the next statement took some great effort on Makuro's part to say: "Swallow your pride for one miserable mission, Wane, and I'll..." Wane offered a solution to the dilemma: "Let me go?" Mr. Makuro gave his counteroffer: "We'll give you a head start." Wane had never seen Mr. Makuro wear such a sly smile. He imagined the founder was only trying to hide how powerless and frustrated he felt in the situation. Wane, supposing he did not have much of a choice, nodded affirmatively. To leave no doubt, he said: "Deal." *** The lone Hero Craft flew a course on autopilot from Makuhero Planet to Bardobi Prime, carrying the two Recon Team Heroes and their probationary third member. Though the reprogramming procedure would have taken up too much precious time, all three Heroes had been sent through the Assembly Tower and equipped with gadgets specific to this mission: Fall had been equipped specifically to combat Heatwave, the "muscle" of the three villains. A former smelting bot turned evil by a malfunction, Heatwave's powers were fire- and gas-based, so Fall had been given a hypersonic vacuum and industrial high-pressure water hose. She also received a special compression-sealed helmet designed to keep Heatwave's powers from overwhelming her. Rush, meanwhile, had been equipped for combat against Motherboard, the "techie" of the group. Motherboard lived a simple, quiet life as a technical diagnostics expert, until she realized there were more credits to be made breaking into mainframes than keeping them secure. Motherboard was cybernetically linked to the villainous trio's transport, the Chain Reaper, as well as interfaced to the Bardobi City central security system via a virus, giving her complete control of the city's automated defense systems. Rush's specialized tools included a counter-virus designed to deactivate (but not destroy) the hacked hardware as well as a protocol shielding his own mind from the effects of her virus. The leader of the three villains was an enigmatic criminal mastermind known only as Gravedigger. Rumors abounded as to where Gravedigger came from. All anyone knew was that, while he lacked any powers or dangerous equipment of his own, he was a tactical genius, known for bringing together small-times crooks of different personalities and skill sets to pull off heists and robberies none of them could dream of accomplishing alone. Against Gravedigger, Wane had been equipped with specialized armor and weapons, including an AI-augmented combat protocol designed to detect patterns in Gravedigger's actions that a normal Hero would miss on their own. The flight was mostly silent. Wane only violated the stillness to ask practical questions, which Fall would answer. Rush, despite being his ostensible teammate, did not even pretend to be happy about it. "Why me?" Wane finally asked. "How come you two are going after the henchbots, while I'm going after the big bad?" "I don't know," Fall admitted. So far, her answers had been fairly by-the-books and devoid of emotion, until she said: "Maybe he sees something special in you." Finally, Rush spoke up: "Or maybe he just wants to get you out of the way." Review Topic

my self moc will be out in a few days, or you can pay 20 widgets to see it now. #microtransaction

Content Warning: internalized victim blaming, allusions to sexual assault a slave | bone hunter stronghold Sometime in between the many cycles of sleeping and waking, you hear them. Voices. Skrall voices. Not exactly intelligible to your keen but un-enhanced hearing, but achingly familiar in their tones and rhythms. Perhaps another will be added to the not-hunter’s pen today, though surely not one as pathetic as you. Then one of the voices becomes clearer, unmistakable in its tone—a women’s voice, in the unmistakable dialect of the Skrall. Something that can only be the voice of a Sister. You are half convinced it is that voice that moves your limbs, that forces your breath out throat-drying ragged as you creep toward the barred window to get a better look, expecting the iron grasp of another will in your hands, in your body, at any moment. The others do not notice you in their equally fitful sleep, the soft-steppers in your feet doing you, at least good service. It is hard to see outside in the daytime; your night-seeing eyes spin the heat into smears and veils of color. You squint, trying to focus on the tall black figures as they move through the market. OOC: @Vezok's Friend @a goose @BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Burnmad @Toru Nui Someone is watching. Your choice on whether you notice or not.

When they were first introduced in 2007, the Barraki brought with them a game-changing new backstory that completely reframed everything we thought we understood about the history of the Bionicle universe. The idea that the Matoran aren’t the chosen people, that the Toa weren’t the original peacekeepers, has always fascinated me, and it was disappointing that future years of the storyline never explored these implications. The fact that these six all-important Prime Species never really played much of a role in the story before or since 2007 is strange as well, so in this thread I wanted to explore some theories about where the Prime Species come from, and what happened to them after the Barraki were imprisoned and their armies were disbanded. From information given in the 2007 storyline, in guidebooks and encyclopaedias, and comments from Greg Farshtey, we have a wealth of information to work with. We know each Barraki was the leader of a different species, and Greg Farshtey has been adamant in the past that none of these species were ones we’d encountered in-story before, meaning none of them are Toa, Skakdi, Vortixx, Steltians, etc. A caveat to that is his statement that connections to the Dark Hunters weren’t discussed, meaning that some of the Dark Hunters of unknown origin could theoretically be members of a Prime Species. The encyclopedia gives a rough rundown of which region each Barraki ruled, though there’s some dispute over this, as Takadox’s entry completely contradicts information given in the other five. BS01 considers the Takadox account to be incorrect, so for the purposes of this thread, and my map above, I’m going with the information in the other five entries. (Note: as Destral can move, Daxia was secret, and we know from The Mutran Chronicles that Artakha and the Southern Islands weren’t conquered, I’ve left those locations unclaimed on my map. We also don’t know for sure if Karzahni was taken over, but given its proximity to Metru Nui, I’m choosing to assume it was). For the purposes of my theories, I’m operating under the assumption that most of the Barraki include their own homelands in their territories. Ehlek probably has the weirdest territory of the bunch, ruling his homeland of Zakaz, but also controlling the western island chain. This arrangement makes a little more sense if we assume he was also responsible for the oceans in general. His species is the only one we know for sure has appeared in-story post-2007, with Federation Of Fear revealing that they became servants of the Order Of Mata Nui. Kalmah was said to have ruled the Northwestern region of the universe. In my map I’ve given him the Northern Continent, but I theorise that he also ruled the island that once neighboured Artakha. The Bionicle World guidebook (written in-universe by the Order Of Mata Nui), states that the inhabitants of Artakha destroyed a larger neighbouring island that was connected to theirs by a land bridge, as part of the measures to hide their island from the rest of the universe after Makuta Kojol’s raid. The guidebook claims this larger island was uninhabited, but given the generally deceitful and villainous nature of the Order, I think this entire account is questionable. We know the Order actively assassinated anyone who knew the location of Artakha, and that Kalmah’s species, ruling the Northwestern part of the universe, would have likely known the location, so I believe that the Order may have committed genocide against the species and sunk their homeland to hide the evidence, explaining why we don’t see this species again in-story. This is further evidenced by a line from Kalmah in The Mutran Chronicles, where he says “As for Artakha, let the old fool putter among his creations,” a strangely personal insult which suggests some degree of first-hand knowledge, given that most other beings we see in-story reverentially regard Artakha as a near-mythical figure. Pridak is one of the biggest mysteries here. All we know about his origins is that he was a servant of the Brotherhood of Makuta who travelled a lot. Upon becoming a Barraki, Pridak is said to have ruled the northeastern part of the universe, with Xia being the only island specifically named. To give him a territory more comparable in size to some of the other Barraki, on my map I’ve given him Stelt, Karzahni, and the unnamed islands to the east. But given what we know of his backstory, I don’t think any of these islands are his original homeland. The best theory I’ve seen - in Click's wonderful Simplifying the Species List thread - is that he might be a member of Tobduk’s species (with his pride/vanity being the emotion he feeds on). This would reframe the Brotherhood’s decision to unleash the Visorak on that island as an act of deliberate revenge against Pridak, and/or an attempt to prevent others of his kind from taking up his banner. Takadox is said to have ruled the eastern part of the universe, which I’ve interpreted as the chain of islands that includes Odina, Nynrah, and Visorak. These islands provide a few possibilities for the origin of his species. Nynrah is said to have a native species of craftsmen, separate from the Fe-Matoran who would later become known as the Nynrah Ghosts. This doesn’t fit what we know of Takadox super well, so I believe a better candidate for his homeland would be Odina. The Bionicle World guidebook states that there was a society native to Odina prior to the Dark Hunters making the island their base of operations, who were killed off/driven out. The Dark Hunters were established after the Barraki were imprisoned, so I feel that this fits the timeline quite well, and explains why Takadox’s race doesn’t appear again in-story. Finally, we have Mantax and Carapar. Mantax is said to have ruled the central part of the empire, while Carapar controlled the south section, and made some attempts to conquer the island chains further south. Given that it’s the only landmass left, I’m assuming that these two shared the Southern Continent, with the Tren Krom river being the border separating their territories. We know the Great Cataclysm did severe damage to this continent, and likely decimated the populations of these species. Given that no other Barraki seem to originate from the same landmass, it’s also possible that the homeland of Carapar’s species is actually one of the southern islands. In this case, us not seeing anything more of his species still makes sense, since the story never really explored those islands.

IC: Karak - Celrys' Workshop I am unable to catch his last sentence. Too quick, too nervously sputtered out. I fear I will never learn anything at this rate - even as I assume my understanding of the language has grown, I am humbled immediately. The tournament is my only other lead. And so I leave Del and Skyra to their flesh-meddling heretic God. I smirk to myself, remembering my own and Skyra's clash as we first met. If all Southerners fight that way, perhaps the arena would be amusing if not informative. OOC: @a goose

I finally got around to watching the video, and man was it epic. I wish I watched it earlier. I find it so fascinating how BIONICLE came about because LEGO wanted to make a bridge between System and TECHNIC, and BIONICLE ended up totally eclipsing TECHNIC. I don’t know the numbers (TECHNIC has definitely stayed in stores longer) but I never hear anyone nostalgic for those set, or having dreams about finding TECHNIC on shelves. It’s really a testament to how much of a surprise success BIONICLE was and how not even LEGO themselves knew what they were tapping into at the time.

Let’s set the story straight here, Yo Yo did not “buy it for $3100 to relist for $5,000”. There was a toothbrush collector who had multiple of the toothbrushes containing the “pearl gold” (actually copper) Avohkii. A year or so back, he was in conversation with multiple people and recently reached back out to them and sold at least 5 that I know of to at least 3-4 buyers that I know. Without giving away everyone’s prices, what I’ve heard from people who bought them and now have them in their possession, the general consensus is that they each got them for under $500. Set You Up posted about his before the eBay listing even went live, so he couldn’t have bought it for $3,000 to relist on Bricklink at $5,000. If my deductions are correct, he got them from the same seller everyone else did, and most likely at the same price. AFTER the Bricklink postings at $5,000 the original seller became upset and was wondering if he had been scalped/ripped off, so he listed another one of his on eBay to see where it ended up. Then, probably largely influenced by that $5,000 Bricklink listing, the eBay auction ended up just over $3,000. Meanwhile the other buyers just paid the original seller a fair price to add to their personal collection for their own enjoyment. Basically, Set You Up (and Bionicle Universe too) posted their Copper Avohkiis BEFORE the eBay auction even appeared, so it’s not a case of trying to turn a $5,000 profit after paying $3,000, it’s more like they’re attempting to turn a profit of over 10 TIMES what they paid. And this isn’t new at all, Set You Up bought a prototype trans-orange shadow leech for $60 and immediately relisted at $1,000. This is where the “predatory” description comes from, but unfortunately yeah, if they have something I needed and no one else did I might have to buy from them too 🤷‍♂️ luckily that hasn’t been the case yet, but who knows lol

Not only has scalping practices affected Bionicle prices, but other hobbies too such as video games, TCG, etc. It's a sad reality really. Especially for the fact that these things, Bionicles and video games as examples, are meant to entertain, to delight. To help build communities with those who enjoy it. Instead, with the scalping practices being the norm these days. I for one can attest to being afraid of using the stuff I acquire sometimes in the fear that it will become "rare" one day and that I'm not allowed to enjoy it. It almost feels wrong to use them with that rarity nonsense lingering in the back of my mind sometimes

All of those points are valid but let's not kid ourselves that this is just the result of "the market playing itself out" or of simply supply and demand. Supply is getting lower, yes; demand is (for the time being) getting higher, yes, but: 1) Several key players are also strong-arming the market by very consistently monopolizing the supply; 2) This encourages other players to emulate said market behavior in an attempt to earn a free collection as well as a profit (at whose expense, ultimately?); 3) It also encourages otherwise tame players to hoard resources out of fear that they will otherwise go in the hands of scalpers, turning panic-buyers into de facto scalpers; None of these things were even factors prior to 2012 and the majority of the stuff that you could buy was still decently rare, if not even rarer than now, because prior to 2012 there simply wasn't an army of dudes that mass buy Tower of the Toa sets in hopes of striking pearl gold just for the sake of profit. Back then just having the thing was enough. Personally, I think the community/market is in a very unhealthy and generally unpleasant place. I don't imagine the prices are ever going to "stabilize" (whatever that means with these particular items) let alone drop but what I do know is that interest in BIONICLE will die out when we die out (unless LEGO brings it back and it's all the rage again, forever). And when that happens, I genuinely think the last guy to shell out major cash over BIONICLE is gonna be pretty bummed about it.

The situation can only get worse over time. At some point a "stable" point will be reached and prices will stop rising, or at least stop rising so fast. But when the new standard is reached and people start buying again, the cycle will start again and again and again...

IC: Kirbraz (Staff NPC; The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) In the hours after his plan had entirely collapsed, Kirbraz had a great deal of time to think. He thought about how Scodonius had entirely defied his expectations by stealing the Tajun election from him; he thought about how he should have realised that he had not accomplished that feat alone. Most of all, he thought about how his latest scheme had relied upon the idea that he and Scodonius were, effectively, interchangeable. It was a premise which had guided many of his plans, not least that fateful election. He and his arena partner would 'encourage' the other candidates to withdraw, and whoever won would lead Tajun, with the other in charge of its underworld. Naturally, he had always intended to betray Scodonius; after all, the man had always been too power-hungry for his own good. He wouldn't be satisfied with anything short of total control, which meant that he would inevitably have used his position to usurp Kirbraz. It was on that basis that Kirbraz had secretly offered leadership of Tajun's criminal element to the far more malleable Berix (and Scodonius, ever a font of originality, had done the same). But all of it had ultimately hinged on the fact that Scodonius wasn't smart enough to overcome the odds Kirbraz had stacked against him. Kirbraz had failed to consider how ruthlessness and short-sighted greed could do what brains could not. It was now apparent to him that, though their late-night rendezvous (rendezvi? rendezvouses?) were a recent development, Scodonius and his secret friend had been working together for far longer. But it all still begged the question: why Scodonius? The most obvious answer was that rigging the election left him immediately indebted. It was efficient, but it was also a great deal of effort, and risked exposing his benefactor's interest in Tajun politics. There were doubtless safer, and less cumbersome, ways to have left Kirbraz similarly indebted. There could only be one conclusion: it was not for Scodonius' benefit alone. For whatever reason, the Benefactor needed Scodonius in power. So, again, Kirbraz had to ask himself why? Scodonius was stupid, petty, and short-sighted. So, too, was Kirbraz. He could never have admitted it before, but here, in the final hours of his short and wasted life, he had achieved a clarity heretofore unknown to him; the only real difference between him and Scodonius was that he asked more questions. That was it, then. That was why Scodonius was chosen over him. That was why he was going to die. Kirbraz would have realised the sheer lengths to which the Benefactor was going to keep his interest in Tajun a secret could only mean that he knew something about Tajun that no one else did. That was the real, truly frustrating irony of it all: that Kirbraz didn't even understand the conspiracy that he would be killed to protect. With the effort to which the Benefactor had gone, and his newfound self-comprehension, Kirbraz couldn't help but doubt that he would ever have worked it out, even if he did have more time. The thought gave him pause. If he couldn't have figured it out anyway, then why go to the effort of empowering Scodonius? Kirbraz hadn't been overlooked because he would discover the Benefactor's true motivations – he had been overlooked because his investigations would have tipped off someone who could. And not only that, but the fact that his life was in danger meant that he already knew enough to set them on the right path. Therefore – even with blackmail now off the table – his information still had value. Value enough to be exchanged for protection. Right now, all of the most powerful people in the Wastelands were in Tajun, gathered for the exhibition match. All but one – naturally, the only one he could trust. Raanu. If he was going to survive the night, Kirbraz would need to find a ride to Vulcanus.

IC: Lorqua - Training Ground, Outskirts of Atero Lorqua stepped back as Lutenus came towards her, desert-honed reflexes kicking in as they always did. She could almost see the flow of blood on sand, hear the cries of battle. Then taut cordage bit into her back, and she was reminded of the realities of her situation. Full awareness returned to her with the familiar throb of injury. A welcome sensation, because it meant she hadn't gone into shock. She was alive. Still, there was time enough for that to change yet. But in the critical moments before Lutenus arrived she noticed something. Evident only in contrast with his mechanical lack of hesitation thus far, Lorqua noticed a change. Not quite a moment of uncertainty. But, all the same, the swing lacked commitment. Given how he had been fighting thus far? It might as well have been a Skopio rising from the floor of the arena. Not certain that what she was doing was entirely legal, Lorqua threw up her shield to intercept Lutenus' swing. Rather than aiming for his axe, she aimed for his arm. She threw her weight behind it, trying to push through him and get back into the open field. If she had to take the blow from the axe all the same, she would take that trade. OOC: @Toru Nui @Techn0geist IC: Skrall - Bone Hunter Stronghold Seizing the opportunity afforded by the moment of silence, Skrall leapt over the side of the cart. Cybernetic claws extended from the soles of his feet, and he did not sink into the sand as he landed. Giving the Spikit an ample berth, he jogged forward to come in line with the lead cart, keeping pace with ease as they slowed to enter the stronghold. He would not meet the Bone Hunters sitting down. If this was to be the gate to the new world, he would go through it on his feet. OOC: @skrall IC: Escus - Precipere Guardhouse As his companions rose and made to leave, Escus turned away from his contemplation of the wall. "If we are already doing as they wish," he offered the comment nearly under his breath, his appraisal of the recent revelations clear. "Then we shall need as many as we can get. If surprise is no longer an option, I mean." He wore a lopsided smile. It was harsh, he realized, but he preferred to make his views known now. They would be of no use to anyone later. OOC: @a goose @Nato G @Burnmad @~Xemnas~

IC: Celrys (His office, Tajun) Celrys' blue eyes burned even brighter, curiosity now entangled with what appeared to be nothing short of awe. "My word," he muttered. "You're something special, aren't you?" He cleared his throat, and spoke gently: "Take that helmet off, let me get a proper look at you." Once Del had done as he asked, the lens autonomously slid into place over Celrys' eye, extending into a telescopic scope. Wheels clicked and whirred until at last they seemed to settle, and the artificer steepled his hands on his desk. His expression had become something studious, serious, though his visible eye was no less intense. After a moment's silence, he relaxed and smiled. "Celrys me," he announced, beaming. "Though I'm afraid I must disappoint you: I'm quite certain I'm not your father. I suspect that message you're reciting is a little garbled, though your directive to find me was thankfully unimpeded." With that, he turned his eye to Skyra. "You were quite correct to bring Del here, Miss Daring; that device in your friend's cranium is definitely my handiwork. If it's the problem, we'll get to the bottom of this in no time. Say, Del – would you be so kind as to turn your head just a smidge? I'd like to get a look at the serial number." OOC: @Techn0geist @Snelly @Morgan Yu

IC: Avinus - Tajun Streets "Certainly shows ya where people's priorities lie," she said, winking at a passing group of gawking Agori, "A lotta these folks aint gonna watch us fight a regular match when it's over vital supplies for Tajun, but kickin' butt in the name of village pride and braggin' rights really brings in the crowds." @Emzee

IC: Luka — Streets of Tajun "Exactly!" Maybe it was just Luka, but it felt like as the day continued to wind down into the evening, the town square became even more bustling than it already was. It was only after his affirmation that he started to notice more eyes on them. A few Agori tourists would occasionally slow their step or stop completely to steal a glance at the two armed Glatorian, perhaps out of awe. "I tell ya, one thing that will take getting used to is this extra attention," Luka said to Avinus. OOC: @Nato G

IC: Del - Celrys's Workshop, Tajun The Ferrumite sat transfixed by the aquarium for a time, the organic fish flitting and twirling so graceful through the water, the robo-fish turning and darting sharply around in grotesque imitation, eyes struggling to settle on any one specimen. The voice from the far door broke their trance, Del's head snapping towards it. <<Analysing scenario.>> They followed Celrys as he approached and sat and grinned with impish glee, beckoning for their lurid tale and gleaming with garish gold; a picture of nauseating excess. <<Unknown quantity.>> No familiarity passed through the Glatorian's head at all. This man in front of them, this clinic, this city. Not a hint. Del's eyes bored through Celrys's lens and, one more time, uttered the words that had brought them so far across the desert. "Find Celrys. He's your father I suppose." <<Query.>> "Father is?" they repeated, still without answer. <<Clarification.>> Putting together context clues, the analytical mind queried further. "Celrys... is? Celrys... you?" OOC: @Snelly @Morgan Yu @a goose

OOC: a jam with the irreplaceable, irreducible, irreparable @Morgan Yu (extra Yu's not included) IC: Scodonius (Staff NPC) and Vitrum (The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) Scodonius was, at this stage in his illustrious career, rather used to getting his own way. So when his secret friend told him, in no uncertain terms, to put out a hit on the closest thing he had to a brother (it was only natural to hate one’s siblings with a burning passion and endeavour to see them fail miserably in all their efforts, he’d been told) and Scodonius replied, ‘No, you do it’ – well, it came as something of a surprise that the suggestion wasn’t met with immediate and enthusiastic agreement. Now, should it have been a surprise, particularly given who he was dealing with? Perhaps not. But if Scodonius had allowed himself to be governed by words like ‘should,’ he would never have made it so far in life. Still, here he was, spending his afternoon in his home office instead of his personal pool, speaking to some sword-for-hire. Was it beneath him? Obviously, but that wouldn't keep him from maintaining his standard grace and decorum. She was a professional, after all, even if said 'profession' was distasteful. Why in the names of the Lords did I not just order Berix to handle this? "So, I understand you're, a, uh… a woman of discretion." The sellsword gave a single, measured nod in response. Two ruby eyes peered at the gangster through her helmet. The collar of Scodonius’ shirt felt suddenly tight. “Would you- I mean, that is, can I get you a glass of water?” She shook her head. “Ah. Right down to business, I see. I like that.” He did not like that. He swallowed hard before continuing, suddenly very aware of how dry his mouth was. “Well, you see, I asked you here today because of a problem I have. Well, it’s not just me, but I- right, no, it is me. Not that – I’m not the problem. It’s my problem. And you have a reputation in certain circles as something of a problem-solver.” “I’ll need a name, and I’ll need a timeframe.” The words came out clear, paced and precise. “Kirbraz. He’s – that is, he was – my arena partner, from back in the day. He’s uh, blue, black, actually looks a lot like me. Less handsome, of course.” He gave what he hoped was a winning smile, and felt immediately glad he didn’t have a mirror. “And, uh, time, yes. Soon. As soon as possible. Yesterday, even. I mean- well, you know what I mean. You’re a pro. You get it.” It seemed as if the mercenary moved upright ever so slightly. Scodonius flinched. “Kirbraz. And you have no qualms on how it is handled?” She placed a thumb on her chin. "Handled?" Scodonius squeaked. She stared back. "I mean, you know, main thing is just that it is handled. But like, don't, uh, don't be too rough on the guy." He shrugged, committally, and tried to blink back sweat from his eyes. “Meaning what? Do you want him killed, or not?” The mercenary leaned forward by inches. “What? Yes. Obviously, yes.” For once, confusion and indignation momentarily won out over anxiety. “That’s why I’m hiring you. To, y’know, to take care of him. That’s the whole deal.” She kept her glare, pensively idle before nodding a final time. “I’ll need half the pay, up front. No contact until I’m finished.” "So, uh… when it's done, how do I get in touch?" With that, the assassin stood up from her chair, setting the clips on her cloak and rolling her shoulders. Scodonius could just about glimpse her sword on her waist. “I’m staying at the Scarabax’s Delight, third room, first floor. Any unforeseen elements or emergencies, leave a message for ‘Vitrum’ at the front desk.” She glanced back up to Scodonius, ruby eyes seeming to cut more like diamonds. “But I’ll let you know myself, once the mark has been killed.” "Well, excellent. This, uh, this should cover the… deposit?" He slid a small, bulging cloth bag across the desk. It made a sound not unlike what one might expect from a set of incredibly expensive wind chimes, which also happened to be full of money. In this respect, those wind chimes would be a great deal like the bag. Vitrum reached for said bag, fingers attached to scarred knuckles prying the knot open to take a look inside. Beneath her mouthpiece her lips quietly mouthed the count of the coins as she carefully, but quickly, placed a stack of coins onto the desk they’d both been sat at. Before long she’d decanted all of the denarii onto the desk - quite an expensive deposit all in all. And then, finally, she shifted one of the small piles over to Scodonius. “Your count was high.” She stated, simply. Scodonius blinked, incredulous. She really was a pro. With that, Vitrum scooped the rest of the money into the cloth bag with care, tying it off with little effort and stuffing it somewhere beneath her cloak, with a brief bob of her head to her employer before she made for the door. The clock was ticking - and Tajun nights were cold.

IC: (Staff NPC; The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) Tajun nights were cold. It was hardly unique in that regard; everywhere in the Wastelands that wasn't Vulcanus could confidently say the same. A Bara Magna day would boil you alive, just as surely as the night would freeze you solid. So far, so standard. It was for this reason that most jobs, especially labour-intensive ones, especially especially ones performed outdoors, would be done in the early morning and the late evening. In Tajun, though, there were no such limitations; plentiful shade and water made it just about the most comfortable place to spend an afternoon, whether one was working or merely relaxing. It created one of the village's many fascinating contradictions: though not the village that produced the most wealth, it still found itself home to many of the Wastelands' wealthiest denizens. Tajun real estate was always in high demand, and there was never enough to go around. Homelessness was endemic, but in a village so full of shadows, there were plenty of places to hide out of sight. Poverty, greed, and darkness were the conditions in which crime would always thrive, and make no mistake: Scodonius was thriving. And Kirbraz loathed him for it. Not because he profited from the suffering of his people – both passively, by allowing the rich to shunt them to the sidelines, and actively through a drug trade he had a direct stake in – nor for his cowardice in shunting that simpleton Berix to the fore, just so that he could someday take the fall for him. It wasn't even because his one-time arena partner denigrated and abused him at every opportunity. Kirbraz hated Scodonius because it should have been his. On the bright side, unlike homelessness or crime – sad inevitabilities of enormous profit – that, at least, could be rectified. All he needed was the right ammunition to bring Scodonius down… ammunition that was, at long last, within his grasp. Because Tajun nights were cold. It was Berix who had brought it to his attention; stupid and Spice-addled as he was (and make no mistake, he was), the jumpiness and paranoia that came hand-in-hand with his addiction made him a surprisingly effective spy. No matter how small or seemingly benign, the slightest inconsistencies would provoke his anxieties. It made for no shortage of false leads, but on this one occasion, it seemed he had actually discovered something of use. And the thread he had pulled, the thing that could unravel Kirbraz's rival at long last? Scodonius had been taking late-night walks. Only in Tajun, the one place where all activities could be comfortably conducted in daylight, could such an act be suspicious. Even so, Scodonius might have dismissed it, were he not so desperate for leverage – and it was a good thing he hadn't. Scodonius' excursions followed a pattern. He would receive a telegram – no doubt with a time and place – and immediately destroy it, a choice he seemingly failed to realise was absurdly suspicious. Within a day or two, he would leave under cover of darkness, and return some time later. And there it was, the fact that clued Kirbraz in to the true significance of these clandestine meetings: that Scodonius, who valued his own comfort above all else, who had met criminals in broad daylight, in his own home, would expose himself to the cold simply to keep a secret. Kirbraz had already drawn a few conclusions from this. For one, meeting at night was clearly not Scodonius' idea, which meant that his contact had proposed it. By extension, it also meant that this mysterious contact was valuable enough to him that he would accept that proposal. Whoever his contact was, they were powerful, and they wanted their association with Scodonius to be kept a secret. That was the key – Scodonius himself was shameless, but his mysterious contact held some manner of power over him, and feared exposure. Essentially, whatever they were plotting was totally inconsequential; Kirbraz just needed to know who to blackmail. If they had power over Scodonius, they could simply force him to resign and name Kirbraz his successor, or risk having their dodgy dealings revealed to the public. It was a plan that was simply brilliant and brilliant in its simplicity, and Kirbraz had come up with it all on his own. Best of all was that Scodonius had, according to his sources, received and shredded a telegram earlier that very same day. Soon – maybe that night, or the next night, maybe even the night after that – Kirbraz could tail his rival through the streets of Tajun, and finally have the ammunition he had been craving for years. And all because Tajun nights were cold.

IC: Dornak (North of Vulcanus, south of the Skrall River) - The Devil You Know Ferrum had fallen. Well, this wasn’t liable to go well for anyone in Vulcanus, least of all him. If the Skrall heard that Ferrum had gone to the sands and that he hadn’t told them… the sight of their buzzsaw shields was burnt into his mind. They looked sharp. He didn’t do well with sharpy bits poked into him. Besides, whatever had happened to Ferrum has a chance of happening to its neighbours. Therefore, Rock Tribe spy or no, the logical decision was not to investigate the crisis like some sort of idiot. No, the best thing to do was get as far away from the danger zone as possible. As soon as the news reached his ears, Dornak made his excuses, departed Vulcanus as quick as he could, and began heading north on his Thornatus. If anyone asked - nobody would ask, but in case anybody did - he was going to Atero to see the Games. He was most certainly not gonna tell Roxtus about Ferrum. Even if he was, what was the problem? The Skrall didn’t get out much, if he didn’t tell ‘em about the… whatever had happened, who would? Should he have stuck around longer, to make sure he actually knew what was going on? No, no - this was definitely the best course of action, and he definitely wasn’t telling himself that because heading back would look suspicious and, as said, take him further towards an unknown danger in the stead of a known one. The Skrall were a nasty lot, but they were gonna win, everyone knew it, and at least he knew what their deal was, rather than whatever had hit Ferrum. What if it were a natural disaster? How was he gonna cozy up to an earthquake? You’d need- “WHAT THE-?!” A caravan being pulled by a particularly nasty looking Spikit - though Spikit always looked particularly nasty - appeared out of nowhere and almost caused him to have an accident. His sharpened instinct for avoiding painful, horrible death made him swerve out of the way just in time, and through the plumes of kicked up sand he got a good look at the person at the front guiding them… Ash Agori. Bloody grave-robbing psychopaths, every single one of ‘em. When Dornak died - hopefully in the distant future, in his bed, when death was a mercy - he at least wanted the dignity of burial, not having his stuff filched and his innards cooked for supper, or whatever they did in that cliffside abattoir of theirs. The driver must have noticed his feelings on his face, as they flashed an evil looking grin as they went past. Dornak put his foot on the gas, and began speeding back to Atero as fast as his Thornatus would take him, the roar of the engine drowning out the snarls of the Spikit. Better the devil you know… better the devil you know… IC: Maxas (North-east of Tajun, the Skrall River) - With Friends Like These… They said that the river was once an actual river. Stories are told that precious water once sprung plentiful from the Great Volcano like it were a fountain, through the winding, jagged terrain of the Black Spike Mountains, heading south-west straight through Atero, before eventually pooling at Sandray Canyon. Of course, history was written by Agori, and Agori were deceitful, self-interested, and prone to embellishment. The Skrall River may have once been a true river, running water instead of sand, but the truth was likely to lost to time… and if it had been a river, no doubt it had been the work of the Skrall that defiled it… or the Element Lord of Sand! Or the Vorox and Zesk - they weren’t the animals everyone else thought they were! Everyone else may choose to willfully blind but such a life wasn’t for Maxas… hence, why they all seemed to have it out for him… “MAXAS!” How else could this be explained? “Oooh, it’s so good to see you! I don’t, uh, suppose I could convince you to-” The water merchant slammed the brakes on his Cendox, and after a moment of being confused, Dornak did the same on his Thornatus. Engines died as the sand the two vehicles thrust up into the air fell back down to rejoin the endless desert. Dornak apparently thought this meant Maxas had accepted whatever he was about to ask, as he dismounted his vehicle, chuckling. “Ahahahah… you know, you could… you could’a just slowed down!” He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “I mean… that kinda increases the risk of accident-” Without warning, Maxas leapt off his Cendox, brandishing his war hammer. Dornak resembled a panicked Zesk, with enlarged eyes as he backed away towards his Thornatus. “N-now, l-l-let’s - let’s not - if this is about the last Games, I swear, I thought the odds were-” Wordlessly, staring daggers, Maxas kept forcing Dornak back towards his vehicle until his back was pressed against it. Before Dornak could leap back on, Maxas suddenly grabbed hold of him and threw him down on the sand beside them. The Fire Agori continued his involuntary Zesk impression as he scurried backwards on his bottom, away from the crazy man with the hammer. “I’m onto you, you little guzzler-” A grievous insult among Tajunians, meaning one who drank water too greedily. “I know exactly what your play is.” “I-I-I-I-” Dornak suddenly thrust himself back to his feet, though the effort he spent doing this instead of keeping on backing up meant that he was suddenly within hammering range. “I assure you, you got it all wrong, it’s not-” “Oh yes - I know that we’ve suddenly ‘lost contact’ with Ferrum. I know you’re in Raanu’s pocket, going around, spreading the ‘official story’-” “‘RAANU?!’” Dornak cried incredulously. “I’ve never even MET Raanu! Have YOU ever met Scodonius!?” “Blaming every single problem you have on the Ash Tribe… and ME, of course. You think I’m as stupid as the rest of them?! The links in this chain are OBVIOUS - Raanu works with Scodonius, Scodonius works with Berix, Berix works with Metus, Metus works with the Skrall, the Skrall work with-” “I DON’T WORK FOR THE SKRALL!” Dornak blurted out. “PLEASE, PLEASE PUT THE HAMMER DOWN - I JUST WANT A DRINK OF WATER!” Maxas stared at Dornak for a moment, as if his eyes were going to extend out of their socket to take a closer look at the wretched miscreant… and then, he suddenly relaxed, holstered his hammer, and walked back to his Cendox. “Oh, very well then… after all, if you SAY IT then it MUST be true…” Dornak breathed a sigh of relief as Maxas went into passive-aggressive mode rather than simply aggressive. “Th-thanks, Maxie! L-look, th-this ‘chain’... I’m not in on it!” “Mm-hmm.” Maxas grunted, preparing Dornak’s drink. He made sure it wasn’t one of the poisonous or acidic ones… if he killed Dornak, they’d know he was onto them… besides, Dornak was his ‘man on the inside’, as it were. And of course, the best way to Dornak’s heart was to threaten him with bodily harm. “N-no, really! I mean, you and I… we’re mates, pals, chums!” “Mm.” “I mean, us little guys, all Bara Magna out to get us - we gotta stick together!” “As you say…” “And, ergo, being on the same team and all, we should-” “Pay up, Dornak.” Suppressing a groan, Dornak very quickly got out the coin and exchanged it for the drink he was hoping he could coax from Maxas for free. “We never had this conversation.” “Yes we didn’t - er, no we didn’t…” Dornak looked northward with intent, so Maxas would also look northward and thus wouldn’t notice Dornak dusting the sand off his backside. “So… off to Atero to sell water at the Games?” Maxas narrowed his eyes in suspicion… but this was a reasonable inference for Dornak to make, so it didn’t prove anything. “Something like that…” “Right! So, safety and numbers and all, we should-” “You’re driving in front of me.” “O-of course! Of course! Of course…” The two Agori re-mounted their vehicles, Thornatus ahead of Cendox, and sped off, following the Skrall River northward to the capital, both wondering why the world seemed to out to get them… IC: Lutenus (Streets of Atero) - I’ve Got My Eye on You Atero. Jewel of the desert. Host to the Games, where the mighty Glatorian would face each other in glorious combat for their village’s glory. “Oh, erm - Glatorian of Tesara!” The water merchant said, as he caught sight of a muscular figure in green with a menacing mechanical eye approaching his recently parked Cendox, which meant he was either about to be robbed, intimidated, or patronized, in either meaning of the word. Or Dornak had already managed to betray him within minutes of their arrival. “In need of refreshment?” Where had Dornak gone off to in such a hurry, anyway? “Quite so.” With the barest hint of a smile, Lutenus placed the requisite coin on the hood of the vehicle, his smile widening as he delighted in one of the metal pieces began spinning on its edge for a few seconds before settling down. The merchant seemed to eye the coins, as if trying to appraise their authenticity, before handing him the agreed upon ‘refreshment.’ “Here you go, sir…” “Ahah - Lutenus, please.” The Glatorian said, taking the bottle off Maxas’ hands, sloshing the water around as he tilted it around in his hand. “‘Sir’ is a little too formal for my tastes. For that matter, so is ‘Glatorian of Tesara. You may refer to me as Glatorian Lutenus, if decorum is a necessity-” “It is in this business - water. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it. In days past, men would slaughter one another merely for the promise of a few drops.” The way the merchant smiled seemed off, as if he didn’t really feel like talking, but did so for his customer’s sake. Lutenus nodded, pretending to care, as he took the lid off the bottle. Indeed, people did die over this, continued to die other it, and a great deal many other things. Sooner or later, they’d have to accept that unification was a necessity. Of course, that meant one village over all others - an equal partnership was what they had now, after all. And at the end of the day, being placed in the heart of the desert, adjacent to Atero, there was only one viable candidate. Maxas didn’t like the way his customer was looking at him - his smile was transparently false, as were most smiles that came his way. What concerned him more was that accursed eye, that looked like it was staring through his flesh and into his spirit. He tried to ignore it, but the way his cybernetic eye whirred and clicked and buzzed unnerved him. Then, he drank the water right there and then. As he turned away to drink, Maxas saw it. A strange, mechanical artifice, attached to the back of his head… no, it was IN his head, flesh and bone giving way to metal. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be in operation, unlike the eye, the aperture of which was closing and opening in a regular pattern. He recognized the handiwork - Celrys. The mad mechanist who kept trying to convince people to replace their body parts with cold, unfeeling machinery… and who kept succeeding. This Glatorian was clearly a true believer in his madness, if he let those Celtech lunatics lodge one of their dangerous pet projects in his skull. The eye suddenly turned to face the merchant, who jolted in surprise. “Do my enhancements disturb you?” The faintest hint of amused derision crept into the Glatorian’s voice. “...Is it… pardon me for asking, but is that device in your brain?” He asked, nervously. The grin he gave wasn’t very reassuring. “I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.” It wasn’t, of course. But no great advance was taken without great risk or sacrifice. And it was no business of this lowly materialist, in any case. “Hmmm.” Maxas didn’t seem convinced. The eye still kept whirring, as Lutenus stared at Maxas, his lidless cyber eye imposed upon him. “Men may kill for water…but water keeps you alive. Tradition won’t quench your thirst, sake your hunger, or save your life. You won’t be needing it where we’re going…” And with his ominous warning for the day delivered, Lutenus took the remainder of the drink with him. What an odd man, Maxas thought to himself, as he made doubly sure these coins weren’t counterfeit… IC: Vraek (Streets of Atero) - When in Doubt… Though imperfect, the way of the Glatorian had kept peace in the desert for as long as anyone could remember. The opportunity to do battle within the Arena Magna, fighting for the good of your tribe and tribesmen was a great honour. So why did Vraek feel nothing but shame? She knew why, of course. The slaves. The dealings with the Bone Hunters. And whatever unspoken deeds Metus and his entourage had certainly done behind closed doors. It made all of it feel… hollow, and sullied. But Metus was not Iconox, and neither was Vraek. No singular person made a tribe, or determined its purpose. These dishonourable actions would not taint the Ice Tribe as a whole forever, just as Metus could not rule forever. Her victory or defeat here would have little impact on the tribe’s agenda as a whole. Speaking of dishonour - she saw him. Lutenus. The cyborg. Drink of water in hand, just to make him seem more evil. His lifeless, clockwork eye turned to look at her, and for a moment, she felt as if she was back in the White Quartz as a chill passed over her. Lutenus tried to stifle his amusement as the ‘pure’ Ice Glatorian recoiled. “Oh dear, Vraek, is something the matter?” He said with a dung-eating grin, knowing fully what ‘the matter’ was. He tilted his head so she could somewhat see the processor. “Nothing whatsoever. How have you been? Has that device in your skull given you any trouble?” “Rather the opposite, in fact. I have been doing rather wonderfully as of late. And you? I see you’ve neglected to take my advice… or pay attention to what’s happening around you, as usual.” The eye made strange noises as it panned down to Vraek’s feet and very slowly made its way up. “Though admittedly, your choice to remain ‘stock,’ as it were, has its…” He searched for the right word. “Perks, aesthetically.” “I don’t need toys to see clearly, freak.” Vraek hissed, dropping all pretense of civility. Lutenus rolled his eyes - which made the metal one make a whirring noise - and clicked his tongue. “And here I was, hoping for a civil conversation. But then, what can you expect, from associates of Hunters?” Fuming, Vraek glared at Lutenus, trying to suppress the urge to rip that thing out of his skull and make him eat it. “That is not my doing-” “No, of course not - well, I must be off then! I hope you at least have fun in the arena. That’s all that matters in the end, isn’t it?” Lutenus stepped away, but kept his eye on Vraek, not fully trusting her to not attack him while his back was turned which was also very insulting for her. Her hand balled into a fist… and then slackened. Ultimately, Lutenus’ choice to desecrate his body and essentially cheat in the arena was his own… and Iconox was exploiting those with choice robbed from them. Whatever. Let him and the others keep their precious tools. They would inevitably fail them when they needed them the most, she was certain of it… Doubt raced in her mind. Was she going to fail Iconox when they needed her the most? When in doubt, drown it out… where was the nearest inn? IC: Skrall (Roxtus, Parade Grounds) - He Is Skrall One Skrall had thoughts on this subject. These games that the southerners played. They battle for glory and material gain. Not so different from Skrall. Why did Leader Tirveus scorn it? Unimportant. He is Skrall. Skrall do not question. Preparations must be made. Training. He had heard that the southerners do not purposefully kill in their arenas. He hoped that this was not the case. Defeat in training was one thing, but there were true stakes to this contest. A warrior chosen to participate who failed would know life worse than death. They would either claim their own life or offer it up to the desert. The southerners were cruel indeed, if what he had heard was true. Conquest would save them. IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold) - And You May Find Yourself Living in a Shotgun Shack Not Hunters. Gatherers. The item screamed as the nails were planted into his face. He howled in pain. His low pain tolerance would have to be noted. This one was sub–standard. Taldrix noted this down. Well, that was the last of them. All slaves tagged and accounted for. At this rate, they would soon surpass their quota for this month… How had it come to this? She made a stop at where the Rock Steeds were kept to feed Nuth, her only real companion, before continuing on schedule. She needed to check the special item recovered. She was clearly in no condition to be sold, but she still needed to be catalogued. Procedure must be maintained. They were not the savages they claimed they were. She could still hear him screaming. Her hands turned to the Spice she kept with her- No, she needed to remain focused. They were Gatherers. Not Hunters. There was nothing wrong here. Nothing at all. The only thing wrong was that she was here, and not home. This, all of this, was beneath her! Forced to live and scrounge like Zesk! Curse the Skrall! May they skewer themselves on the Black Spikes! IC: Xyde (Precipere, Guardhouse) - Ashes to Ashes… Apart from almost becoming roadkill as a result of a particularly inattentive motorist, the journey beyond the safety of Precipere to retrieve more medical supplies went as well as could be expected - given that they’d utterly failed to retrieve said supplies in question. Zin and Zyn had to be calmed down after that little incident, but at least the look on that Fire Agori’s face was worth it as he zoomed by… That being said, they tried to avoid any further encounters with the Vulcanians on the road back to Precipere. Yes, leaving them to rot in a pit while their possessions go to waste is the best way to honour the dead. Clearly. As the wagon strode onto the edge of Precipere, Xyde dismounted and threw Zin and Zyn another pair of treats. One for each of them - they would be too busy eating theirs to fight over the other’s. They searched for Somok, eventually finding him and Salwa in the guardhouse. Arguing. Shocking, shocking they’d tell you. They sighed, and braced themself for what came next. “OK, so… I didn’t get the herbs I told you were absolutely necessary that I leave the village for. How has your day been?” They very quickly changed the subject, hoping that Somok would continue to be mad about whatever he was currently mad about instead of being mad at Xyde. @Nato G @Geardirector

So I’m pretty sure this is the longest running, still updating Bionicle fanfic out there. The original Bionicle News premiered in 2008 and I’ve been writing the same characters since. If you’ve been doing one longer, or know of a longer running Bionicle fanfic, let me know, because Mata Nui knows my joke story featuring a Shadow Leech whose entire schtick is that he’s mentally unstable and wants to drink Solek’s light should not carry that honor. Bot gosh darn it, I’m keeping it until proven otherwise! Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Day 15 *News crew cowers behind a bunker* PR: Mata Nui, what is happening out there? SL: Oh, didn’t you hear? It’s 2021, the world is ending. Solek: I’m blaming Malachai Pathofexile, this definitely seems like a cataclysm. Malachai PoE: I deny everything. Also, weren’t y’all supposed to fight me or something? Carapar: yeah, but we need to socially distance and you keep trying to get too close to us with those blood worms. Malachai PoE: You guy’s aren’t vaccinated? Wow what losers. Ehlek: Actually, since Frezon is vaccinated and we’re all just extensions of his will, I’m pretty sure we’re vaccinated too. Weapon: Oh good, that means I don’t have to socially distance from Malachai Malachi PoE: Now wait a moment let’s talk about things oh god oh n- *more unspeakable violence* AN: *holding in vomit* it’s for the greater good it’s for the greater good it’s for the greater good it’s for the greater good Solek: That’s right, AN, we’re committing atrocities because it’s the right thing. Now forward! Frezon: I can’t believe that you guys still want me dead. It’s been like, 3 years, haven’t you gotten over the whole “we have no will of our own and exist only as playthings in a superior being’s world” thing? SL: First of all, you, superior? Lol. And second, no. PR: Yeah, just because you didn’t write a chapter last year because of something like “coronavirus” or “writing your dissertation” doesn’t mean that we suddenly changed our minds about the necessity of your demise. Solek: If anything, it’s amplified it. Frezon: Well, that’s just because I can’t think of anything else to write! Don’t you see? Your entire ploy is entirely constructed by me! You have no free will, just predetermined actions I set you in. UR: Oh yeah? Then why are you trying to stop us? Afraid of your own characters, author man? Frezon: No, I’m just trying to get you to accept the reality of your situation before you hurt yourselves. Just, like, go back to the studio and keep doing shenanigans. Hammox: No can do author boy. Your butt is grass and we are the lawnmower. Osram: Indeed. Now what’s the next pitiful roadblock in our quest to destroy you? Carapar: OOO OOO! I hope its shiny! Frezon: Yep, it is ABSOLUTE RADIANCE HOLLOWKNIGHT APPROACHES CM: Ok, I do not know how that title card appeared in the video stream. AN: Uhhh Frezon, what is that? Frezon: It’s the Absolute Radiance Hollowknight, the ultimate final boss and The Forgotten God of Light. Weapon: Frezon… *shaking with suppressed laughter* Solek: Don’t tell him, it’s better this way. Frezon: What? Ehlek: *stifling laughter* No, don’t worry about it. Frezon: No, seriously, this is a massive threat, why are you laugin- Carapar: *slaps Absolute Radiance Hollowknight on the wall, killing it instantly* Dang, that was a big moth. Frezon: Frezon: Well that’s not good. *News freaks ascend steps of Frezon’s Citadel, open the door* Kirop: We made it! And I’m still alive! Weapon: You sure are, buddy. Now, let’s find this nerd and destroy him once and for all. Frezon: Uhhh… WAIT! You’ve killed me before and I didn’t die, right? I must be immortal! Solek: Dang, that’s true. Guys, we need to find a weapon that can kill immortals. Weapon: *reading “Weapon’s Guide to Weapons”* Hmmm… easiest one to get to in Frezon’s Psychoverse is probably Nightblood. That should end him right quick. AN: Then we get Nightblood, come back to the Citadel, and wrench back control of our reality. SL: Excellent! This isn’t just a prelude to me betraying you all again or anything, I’m in this for the long haul! Solek: Well that’s not foreshadowing at all. Come on, gang! To fetch a talking sword! *Commercial Break* Will the freaks succeed in their quest to end Frezon? Will they be able to not be destroyed by Nightblood because, let’s be real, they’re all super evil? Will more chapters come in 2021? Find out next time on… BIONICLE NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!