Jowm

Entry name: Cordak Nui Entry image: http://i.imgur.com/XTSyxWU.jpg Gallery: http://imgur.com/a/2o0XO

I'm annoyed personally that we won't see the traditional Turaga and Matoran the way they were before, but I'll have to settle for what we got. I am glad we have the original Toa with personalities at least very similar to what we remember and awesome new builds.

Chronicles of Karzahni book two: Matoran Arrive Pacing in his chamber, Karzahni contemplated ways to gain the favor of the great beings. His brother, Artakha, had been chosen to take part in the construction of the Toa Mata, a team of six Toa intended to one day assist Mata Nui if necessary. Karzahni, however, had remained alone in his realm, uncontacted by anyone since the duel between himself and his brother over possession of the powerful mask of creation. Karzahni knew, of course, that it made perfect sense for the great beings to include his brother in the creation of the Toa Mata, since Artakha wore the mask of creation. His bitterness towards Artakha and the Great Beings caused him to disregard what did and didn’t make sense. The Matoran who were to occupy the Universe had been created, Karzahni knew, as a few had already come to his realm. He had not begun repairing them, however, because one of the Matoran who had come to his realm had told him that The Great Beings had chosen Artakha to assist in the creation of the Toa Mata. It was yesterday that that Matoran had arrived and given him the news, and now Karzahni hadn’t come any closer to an answer of his troubling question; how to gain the Great Beings favor? But the Matoran here hadn’t come without reason, he needed to repair them, and he couldn’t put it off any longer. Karzahni sighed and strode outside. He found four Matoran there, having conversation with one another. “Alright,” he announced, “I am ready to repair you now.” The Matoran all began to request that they be repaired first, and Karzahni raised his hand for silence, declaring, “The first to arrive here for my assistance shall be the first to receive it, the second shall be the second, the third the third and so on.” Karzahni led the first Matoran to arrive at his realm, a Ta-Matoran, to a small dome-shaped building nearby. He instructed the Ta-Matoran to lay down on a table in the center of the room, and the matoran obeyed. Karzahni looked him over to find the cause of his visit. It took only a glance for him to notice exactly what the problem was, the Matoran’s left arm and the left side of his torso were missing pieces of armor, and those pieces that remained were blackened and burned, melted into slag. His organic material was visible, charred and burned, much of it gone. “What did you do to get like that?” Karzahni inquired. “I’m a lava miner in a village in the northern continent,” Answered the Matoran, “a vat of lava was being hauled up a mine shaft, and I helped attach the vat to the lift cables, so I was below when one of the lift cables stopped working, but the one on the opposite side of the vat didn’t. I didn’t even know it was happening until one of the other miners shouted a warning, and looked up, but by then it was too late, the vat had been tipped and the lava was already spilling down toward me.” “That sounds, painful.” Karzahni responded, unused to small talk after hundreds of years alone. He chose to give words to try to reassure the matoran, and to try to convince the matoran of his magnificence. “Fear not, matoran, I am the mighty Karzahni, and there is no wound that I cannot heal.” The matoran gave a smile, trusting that this great being, brother of Artahka, would be able to heal him completely. Karzahni began his work in silence, opening a drawer to his right and retrieving two tools. He looked at the matoran for a moment and determined that things would go better if the matoran was unconscious while he worked. He decided not to ask for the matoran’s permission, instead giving the matoran a vision of being sleepy and falling asleep right there on the table. He ended the vision a minute later, and the matoran had fallen asleep, as his mind had thought it was tired and sleepy. Good, He thought, now where to start? He started pushing things around with his tools, moving this, turning that, occasionally switching out tools. He worked with the victim’s burned organic material, trying to scrape off some of the charred, dead substance. He tried to work gently, but found that the matoran occasionally winced and jerked in his sleep, and twice he used his mask to deepen his patient’s sleep. When he was done with the inner organic material, he looked over his work. The soft material would need time to grow back, and would never be quite the same again. He decided to replace the matoran’s armor, so he opened a drawer and sifted through the plates of metal until he found an armor piece that appeared as though it would fit on the matoran’s ruined organics. After attempting to attach the armor to the matoran, he found that it didn’t fit with the armor the victim already wore, as it was made differently, and restricted the matoran’s movement. Frustrated, the mentally unstable being tried to force the armor together, but stopped, fuming, when his patient began to stir. In his growing anger, he recklessly used his mask to convince the matoran’s mind that it was completely exhausted and needed to sleep long and deeply to recover. Satisfied with his patient’s mental state, he returned to the dilemma of the matoran’s armor. Karzahni was becoming furious, this was his first patient and things had to work out against him this way. He could just imagine Artakha laughing at his struggle. Undoubtedly his ‘superior’ brother could swiftly provide some brilliant solution to this problem. Karzanhi’s fury built. He imagined his brother, mocking him for his failure, every advantage at his disposal, the mask of creation, the favor of the Great Beings, and he with only his duty and this despicably valueless scrap of land. He began lividly to replace all the matoran’s armor. He discovered that he could leave pieces out and attach pieces that weren’t made to go together, which fit his patient’s deformed body better. Although the wounds were only on The Ta-Matoran’s left side, Karzahni proceeded to configure the armor on the right side of his body as if it, too, were incorrectly shaped. His fury overflowed now, he no longer restricted it, he forced the matoran’s body into the unfitting armor. If my brother can be worshipped for his ‘unequalled’ building skills, I can be glorified as well, for my own amazing healing abilities! I will show all that I can repair any matoran, heal any wound, and my patients will never have lasting effects. They will worship me above all when I show myself to be their savior from every affliction! I will never need the approval of my brother, and will gain the approval of the Great Beings for my fantastic talent! I will always be worshipped by every the matoran in the universe, who will love me and respect me before all others! His train of thought moved on, and his rage began to twist, altering to less enraged, but still insane, thoughts. But that will come later, so much later, I will fix many, many matoran before I reach that point. But eventually they will respect and honor me, and my brother will bow before me! As he completed the matoran’s re-armoring, he found, unfortunately, that the matoran’s arm and torso were now disconfigured, short, and no longer very useful. He pondered this, Well, he can still do something of use, somewhere. And if he doesn’t he doesn’t deserve the repairs! After what I generously did to repair him, he has no reason to protest! Karzahni suddenly became frustrated, then angered, then enraged, as his furious train of thought ran through the warped railroad of his mind, twisted by the hatred he had harbored for years against his brother and the Great Beings. These matoran, so lazy, no doubt he will not even be grateful for what I have done for him! I repaired him magnificently, and he will awaken only to complain! He probably will live the rest of his life not working with the excuse that he can’t because I didn’t do an incredible job! How dare he insult my generous gift! Karzahni flung his tools to the ground, livid. He glared at the matoran, enraged but not sure how to act. He decided after a minute to create some means for the matoran to make up for his handicap. He sat in a chair, drumming his fingers on the ends of the armrests and tapping his right foot vigorously on the floor. He contemplated what he could do to ensure that his patient would have no excuse not to work. Perhaps upgrades? No, that would be complicated, working with the organic and mechanical parts, and the wound. What about a specialized tool? That could work, what kind of tool? Karzahni recalled a concept his brother had thought of, an instrument for Toa that functioned both as a tool and a weapon, and channeled their elemental energies. Unfortunately, the matoran had no elemental energies, and he loathed using any idea of his brother’s, but perhaps he could change the idea to make it his own, and overcome the matoran’s lack of elemental abilities. He began to alter his brother’s concept, knowing that he would have to make the tools on a smaller scale for the matoran. He realized also that he could design the tools to draw on the matorans’ internal energy, so their lack of elemental energy would be irrelevant. There, he thought triumphantly, my design far surpasses my brother’s. It doesn’t even require the user to possess elemental powers! Delighted, he stood and hurriedly began to construct his design. He began by simply taking a set of twin tools, and making sure their weight wasn’t too much acceptable for a matoran to handle. Then, he worked hard, altering them so that when the user’s energy was funneled through them, they would release a powerful sonic blast. He was ridiculously proud of his creation when it was finished, and realized that he could use this design later on, perhaps even changing the powers of the tools in later designs. He quickly used his mask power to wake his patient. The matoran seemed horrified at his now distorted body, and Karzahni became furious. He explained the use of the tools to the matoran, who took them in shock. The matoran seemed to be struggling to realize what this meant, and Karzahni’s rage took hold of him once more. He would not allow this. He envisioned his brother, laughing once more, as Karzahni’s first patient was frightened and shocked by Karzahni’s work. The demented being, his rage fueled by his mental image of his hated brother, picked up the matoran by the neck and hurled him out of the tent, shouting, “I knew you would be ungrateful! You pitiful beings expect everything to be given to you so simply! And when I do give you an amazing new body and tools, you are horrified! You do not deserve what I have given you!”__________________________________________________________________________________________________There's part two, longer than the first, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. All your comments and critisizm always welcome.

That sentence is a run-on; a semicolon between himself and "he wondered" would have been more apt. Another run-on, this time encompassing an entire paragraph. Try putting a semicolon between hill and "the time." After vengeance, the and could have also been deleted and replaced with a period, so that "In the meantime" could be start of a whole new sentence. Another sentence could have ended after "so repair them he would," and then the third sentence could have been the one to close out the paragraph.Also, I felt like you overused the names "Artahka" and "Karzahni." The words "titan," "behemoth," "powerhouse," and a veritable horde of others could all be used to describe these two, and I felt like by just reusing their names over and over, it grew repetitive, almost dull, by the end of the story.Now, skipping the grammar errors and the text block, this doesn't really feel like much of an epic as of yet. Perhaps, if this were just a prologue, it would make more sense, but as of right now, it seems like it's just a basic short story: it follows the same basic story structure, wraps itself up, and then...what? How would it plausibly continue, flow, build itself as an epic? Perhaps if it were a prologue, I would feel differently, but from what I've seen of this story so far, this is actually your first chapter, and that leaves me curious as to how it can possibly be continued.All in all, you have a fresh, vivacious concept here that could be turned into a really above-average epic, but as of yet, it's still too far into its infancy to show anything more than potential. If you ever read this, I hope you use it as a catalyst to return and continue the story, because I'm interested to see how it could continue and blossom.-TylerThank you very much for your review, you have helped convince me to continue this epic. I greatly appreciate your advice and criticism, and will take it into account, the second part is almost complete and I will post it soon.

In some cases, like Toa using Toa tools, that is the case, however, in instances such as my example with the tools Karzahni gave the matoran who came to his realm, the tools themselves possessed power, and Bonesiii explained that quite well.

Alright, so here's my question. I'm wondering how weapons in Bionicle that possess powers aquire those powers. For instance, Karzahni gave power-charged weapons to many if not all of the matoran he repaired and sent away from his land, how did he charge them?

No problem man, glad to help. Comments critisism and such greatly appreciated.

For a better understanding of our not-so-fine-minded friend, check out my epic, linked to in my sig. There will be more later depicting his feelings, thoughts, experiences and such that led to him becoming the way we saw him after he left his realm. But to give a bit of my own opinion, he was driven by hate and jealosy, and ambition, to rule the universe, which does rather make him evil.

As the title makes evident, this is the topic in which your reviews, comments, and such are intended to be posted, I hope you enjoy the story.Epic topic

The Chronicles of Karzahni book one: Duel of Destiny Karzahni stood on a hill, observing his vast realm. He shook with anger with the memory of the events of the day before. He and his brother, Artakha, had been informed by the Great Being Angonce that they were to do battle over a Kanohi mask of great power. He had been shocked, as had Artakha, that the Great Beings would ever ask that they fight, but the mask was apparently a prize worth combat, and the winner would receive it. So he and Artakha had readied themselves for battle, both prepared to prove that they were the better of the two, and to achieve the coveted Mask of Creation. The battle was ferocious, with both himself and his brother hesitant at first, then going at each other with all they had. Karzahni himself had been the one to strike first, though not physically, he had activated his mask power, and given Artakha a vision of losing the battle, with Karzahni as the victor, and Artakha left behind in shame. After the vision had reached the point where the Matoran respected and trusted Karzahni and despised Artakha, however, Karzahni wasn’t sure what would come next, and the vision became less and less believable. It wasn’t long after that before Artakha realized the illusion, and returned his mind to reality. Then, the fight was on. Karzahni began swinging his flaming chains, while Artakha charged, swinging with his blunt, yet powerful and threatening warhammer. Karzahni at first managed to dodge a few of Artakha’s swings, managing to strike Artakha with his chains when he had the opportunity, but Artakha had become tired of this, and now began swinging with deadly accuracy. Karzahni knew that he could not match his brother in physical strength, so he tried even more desperately to evade Artakha’s attacks, and weaken him by slashing him with his chains. Karzahni’s desperate tactics were unsuccessful, however, and Artakha quickly closed the gap between them, finally landing a hard blow on Karzahni’s leg as Karzahni tried to dodge. This was the beginning of the end of the fight. Karzahni spun around and put up a furious resistance, but it was over, Artakha struck again and again, with Karzahni on the ground, trying to roll out of the way, and failing. Karzahni had taken some serious damage, but wasn’t ready to give up that mask yet, he kicked Artakha’s legs out from beneath him and slashed Artakha’s face with his chain while returning to his feet. Karzahni began furiously hacking at his brother with his chains, the fight was personal now, it was no longer just about the mask, it was about him, and Artakha, Karzahni wasn’t going to let Artakha leave when he surrendered, he was going to kill him. Artakha saw the look of madness filling Karzahni’s eyes as Karzahni relentlessly struck again and again with his chains. Artakha knew that Karzahni was angry, furious, and he knew that he had to save himself, he wondered if he would be able to beat Karzahni when he was like this. Artakha also worried that, in order to win, he might have to kill Karzahni. Karzahni was blindly slashing and hacking now, roaring insanely. Artakha wasn’t sure what had driven him to such an uncontrollable state of rage, but now that this was happening, he needed to fight back. Karzahni, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking about any of this, he was just thinking about how Artakha had been privileged with creative talent and abilities, while he was gifted with nothing. He was thinking about how Artakha was stronger than he, and surely the Great Beings must have known this. They had wanted Artakha to win, he was sure. Now, Artakha had gotten him onto the ground, rolling around in the dirt, trying to dodge his hammer, he wouldn’t stand for it! With these thoughts of anger, hatred and fury swirling around in his mind, Karzahni ripped and tore at Artakha with his claws and chains, reaching out with the power of his mask to terrorize Artakha with the most nightmarish vision his mind would allow, and his mind would allow for some pretty freaky things. Artakha fought back, resisting the vision and using his advantage of strength to force Karzahni back, so that Artakha would have room to return to his feet. Karzahni began screaming with rage, at this, and increased his attack with his chains, and with his mind. Karzahni’s mental attack, now, was so strong that for Artakha it was entwined with reality, making it difficult to focus, to understand what was going on, and to fight. Artakha took a desperate swipe with his hammer, and the hammer impacted Karzahni’s torso, sending him flying a few feet back. Artakha returned to his feet just in time to be able to defend against Karzahni’s attack, as Karzahni charged forward once again, claws slashing, chains flailing. Artakha deflected his attack, then kicked him back, as Karzahni came charging once again, Artakha performed one of his most devastating maneuvers, he did a full 360 degree spin for momentum, and brought his hammer up as he reached the point where he was facing Karzahni once more. The hammer connected with Karzahni’s jaw in one of the most powerful uppercuts ever to be performed in the Matoran universe. Karzahni was sent flying upward and a few feet back. Karzahni landed with a thud in the dirt, and before he could stand, Artakha ran forward and performed another move, similar to the one he had just used, but this time, he brought the hammer down on Karzahni versus bringing it up toward his chin. Karzahni crashed to the ground, struck by Artakha’s hammer, just as he was beginning to stand. Karzahni,managed to move into a sitting position, his rage now entwined with fear, and Artakha struck him in the chest with the hammer, sending him flying. Karzahni scooted himself back, trying to escape his brother’s hammer. Karzahni was now shouting at Artakha, “Stop! No! Aaaggg-ugh. I surrender, I surrender!” Artakha stopped, hammer held over his head in preparation for another strike. Angonce walked over from where he had been watching a couple hundred feet away. He held out the Mask of Creation to Artakha, and announced, “You are the victor, and have fairly won the Mask of Creation and the right to wear it. Take it, and use it wisely.” Artakha held out his hand and received the Kanohi. Angonce then turned to Karzahni and spoke, “You have lost, you may now honorably return to you realm.” With that, Angonce walked away, and that was the last of him Karzahni ever saw. Karzahni had returned to his realm, and that’s where he stood now. He sighed, he knew it was pointless to constantly remember things of the past that brought only hatred and anger to his mind, but still, he thought, someday, I will have my revenge, and my brother shall pay. Karzahni turned away, and began stepping down the hill, the time for his revenge was not yet, and he knew that it may be a long time before he could have his vengeance, and in the meantime, he had made his realm a place for Matoran to come to be repaired, so repair them he would, and he would do so to the best of his ability for the thousands of years to come until he could have his revenge.________________________________________________________________________________Comments, critisizm, and such all greatly appreciated.Review topic

I thought of that, my theoretical solution is that, as far as we know, the robot did continue some programs during its 'slumber', after all, as far as we know day and night still occured, and probably some other programs as well, so my proposal to answer that question is that when the robot went 'to sleep', it was like a computer going to sleep, not being shut down, so it didn't entirely close down everything running, just the main commands and such, again just like a computer, which, in this case, would be Mata Nui's consiousness, and so the Toa Canister directory, I propose, was one of those programs that was not shut down.

My suggestion is made based merely on the fact that they are capable of burrowing through miles and miles of almost anything and arrive at their destinations in great condition, undamaged, and we have seen nothing as tough as that used anywhere else in the MU, even protosteel I doubt could stand up as well to such treatment, so wether or not my theory is true, I'm not sure, however, I do believe that it is very likely that there is something unusual regarding the way the canisters work, and this is the solution I find to be most likely.

So, I have a theory regarding Toa Canisters. I'm not sure about the probability of this theory, however, I'll leave that to be discussed. My theory is this; That Toa Canisters do not operate normally, but are assisted by the systems of the Mata Nui robot. My reason for believing this to be a possibility; They tunnel straight throught solid rock and such and force their way straigth through anthing that stands between them and their destinations, and we see little other technology in the MU that can match the Toa Canisters in their ability to break through numerous types of substances. I suggest that Toa Canisters have (a) piece(s) in them that connect to the system of the MU, and the MU helps them break through surfaces and reach their destination, and that only the matoran who build the Canisters know about this, if they even do at all.

I enjoy these comics very much, they have an interesting story and amusing characters. I think it might be made better with some more comedy entwined, however, even as it is it's great and I enjoy it. You have done a great job, I look forward to seeing what happens later in the story.

Yeah TRU carries stuff for a long time, in 2008 I found some Mahri sets there. I don't think I have ever bought a set for any notably strange reasons, unless you count the time when I went to the store set on buying Mata Nui in 2010. I saw some of the other sets there, some of which were substantially better looking, but I didn't care, this was MATA NUI! I could actually own Mata Nui, and I wasn't gonna pass up the chance, I wasn't getting anything rather than getting him, it was Mata Nui, and I was determined to get him no matter how much cooler the other sets were.

Alright, spaced it out. Thanks for reminding me, that's something I usually don't think about when I'm writing, I'll have to try to remember that.

This is the review topic for my first BZP epic, I appreciate all feedback and look forward to seeing what you all think of my story. So go ahead and post your opinions, and thank you for doing so!

What Happens After the End It was over. It was over a long time ago, they were living in the epilogue, trying to survive in the movie credits, lingering in the last few seconds. They all knew it, they all knew that they had defied death, only to face something that made some of them wish they hadn’t. It was the world, earth, but not the world we know, this world was dead, all life on it was as miniscule as if it were dead as well, like words of a sentence trying to exist after the period. The world had faced death, and lost, but not all those on it had lost, a number still survived, though no one knew how many. Nuclear destruction had been inevitable, and had eventually occurred, and these were the people who were fortunate, or, more accurately, unfortunate, enough to survive. Mako put his foot on top of the next rock, took yet another step up. He repeated the action, again, and again, almost there? He wondered. Finally, he reached the top. He was at the top of a steep rock hill, he took a quick survey of the land. Below and in front of him lay a camp, a small one, but it had a good amount of things he and his family and friends had collected. They had scavenged the things from all over, stores, homes, even corpses had been looted in the interest of gaining anything valuable. They owned 3 large containers of gasoline, a pickup truck and an SUV, several tissue boxes, which weren’t really very valuable, but could be used as bandages, We all know we need plenty of those, some rubberbands, and a good-sized collection of knives, they had four total, one was a regular pocket knife, another was a Swiss Army knife, it was in pretty good condition, only a few scratches, not too much rust, and most of the extensions were still there. Another was a hunting knife, and the final one was a military combat knife. They also had a collection of clothes, some with practical wearing use, jeans, t-shirts, boots, tennis shoes, etc., and others that would be more useful to be broken down to use their threads for something else, or to sell them, their material was good, they would probably make a profit if sold to some other group they might happen to encounter. They had also many other things that they had collected and looted. They had been living with great difficulty ever since WWIII, about 38 years ago. Areas known to have radiation were avoided, occasionally checked to see if they still had radiation, but they always did, it would be a long time until the radiation faded. Mako turned, peering into the distance to his left, south. There he saw the shadows of the town towards which he and the other members of his group traveled. There was a surprising amount of the town still left there, it had taken less damage than some other areas, as it wasn’t targeted much by the enemy due to its lack of overall value, now, it was quite valuable, since many of the things there remained intact. “Things,” Mako reflected on the term for a moment. It had been around since before WWIII, that much he knew, but after the war, a lot of survivors had altered the term a bit, and now used it to refer to just about anything in general left over from before the war. Of course they still remembered and used the titles of each individual item, but in general such remainders of the past were called things. Mako considered it such a simplistic word, but a useful one. The reason it was on his mind was that his uncle had recently been teaching him a bit about the old things, their names, the origins of their names, their purposes, and other such things. Some of the purposes he hadn’t understood, and his uncle had simply told him that their purposes made more sense in the old world. Mako had asked about the old world, and his uncle had promised that he would nightly tell him more and more about the way things used to be. Mako had just been recalling this conversation with his uncle, and his train of thought had led him to the interesting word, “things”. He saw in it something most people would overlook, the fact that it represented the adaptation of the survivors to the way things now were. He realized that it showed how the survivors had tried to adapt to this new world, but he knew that, despite all their adaptation, they stood no chance in a world that was as dead as those who had not survived, and that it wouldn’t be long until they followed. A tear came to his eye. He had family who had committed suicide to escape from the torture that was life. Mako knew not what it had been like to live in the old world, the old life, he hadn’t been born back then. His parents were determined that, if mankind stood strong, fought with all their strength, then they could survive and make it through, so his mother had given birth to him after WWIII, with in the hope that he would help preserve mankind. He was 14 now, he had been born 24 years after the war. He didn’t know what to think, his life was planned out for him, he was to fight a struggle every day of his life just to live, and he was supposed to make sure that mankind lived. He didn’t want to disappoint his parents, but he himself wasn’t sure that he agreed with them that mankind could survive this. Humans could take a lot, go through a lot, but this, he just didn’t know. As the single tear made its way slowly down his cheek, he thought to himself, I can’t do this, I don’t know if I’m even going to survive, I could die any time, every day I wake up to fear what might happen, and every night I go to sleep in terror of the morning. How am I supposed to save anyone if I don’t even know if I can save myself? He walked back down the rock. He had no idea why he didn’t just commit suicide like his relatives. Maybe it was for his parents, maybe it was for those nights when his uncle would tell him of the old world, those were the only fun he ever had. Maybe it was a determination just to try. Whatever it was, he felt an incredible burden from what his parents expected of him, to help save mankind. He felt so much expected of him, and so little that he was capable of, life was a horror, even his nightmares were a welcome relief from reality. He never allowed himself to cry. He had become hardened and tough on the outside, but on the inside he felt the pain every time a relative died, whether by suicide, starvation, radiation, or anything else. He was hurt inside from living this way, every day his heart wanted to pour out a fountain of tears, but he had locked it up and rarely listened to it anymore. Recently, though, it had become too much. His outside shell was beginning to crack. He was trying to keep it from falling apart, trying to keep himself from falling apart, life left no room, no mercy, for those with tears. He roughly flung the tear from his cheek with his hand, mentally banishing the feelings that had brought it. He turned and took several leaps to reach the bottom of the steep rock hill. He, and just about all survivors, had learned how to handle rough terrain; they had to, since there was little left but rough terrain. He part-ran, part-leapt towards the encampment. He made it to the camp, which was set up just outside the rocky area. Luckily, the rest of the way between the camp and the town was fairly flat, making the way they would take the next day easier. The guard at the side of the camp he approached held a FAMAS in his hands, on his back he bore an RPG, and he wore a cowboy-style hat to shield his face from the hot sun. He wore blue jeans and a sleeveless white shirt with an ammo vest over it. His ammo vest held only two extra shots for his RPG, and one full clip of FAMAS ammo, while the rest of his clips were made for different guns. He had three different types of grenades, and at his side carried a half-full Desert Eagle, with only two extra clips in his ammo vest. One of his shoes was a steel-toed boot, while the other was a tennis shoe. He wore dark sunglasses. Mako stopped and put his hands up as the guard trained his gun on him, then the guard recognized him and lowered his gun, allowing Mako to proceed into camp. “Good afternoon, Frank.” Mako stated as he passed the guard. “Same to you, Mako, and hey,” The guard grabbed him by the arm, and Mako turned to look at him, “next time, when you say five minutes, be back in five minutes. That was six, a little longer and we would have had to come out after you.” Mako nodded, “Sorry, I’ll remember next time.” “Good,” Frank replied with a smile, “I know you usually remember so I’m letting you have it easy, but you know why we need to keep things strict.” “Yes sir,” answered Mako, then the guard released him and he continued into camp. He did indeed know why they needed to keep things so strict, they way things were now, any amount of time out of camp was dangerous, and if he spent any more time out of the camp than he said he would, they would need to send people out to find him. Usually they only waited two or three minutes more than the person who left had said they would be gone for, and then would send out a search party. The world was dangerous enough without going out of camp, outside alone he knew death was closer than ever, as the unknown watched him and stalked him every minute. As always, comments, criticism, and all feedback greatly appreciated!

Oi! That is a big plot hole, I never thought about that. -.-Thank you so much for the review!Haha nice .Ah, well glad I could point it out for you, a simple fix could just be to have him dump the mask but his pursuer kill him anyway, but if you want something stronger, deeper, more complex, go for it, I'd be glad to see it!You're welcome, glad to give it and to help, great job, I look forward to more!

I think possibly that one song that plays during the menu screen of Mask of Light(idk what it's called, any of you know?). It seems to hold that feel of, I dunno, "things are what they are and we will face death and evil but we will do that is right and what we must do and in the end all will be right" something like that, it's a great song, and I think it represents Bionicle well, maybe not so much and action and combat side, but more the philisophical side.

After I saw the title I thought of "Whispers in the Dark" by Skillet . Anyway, interesting, to say the least. Strangely, I enjoy these morbid, dark stories, they leave something with you that feels unusual inside, though, if done well, other types of stories can leave something with you inside as well. But this one was very strong, you did a great job. There were a few grammar and/or spelling mistakes, such as at the beginning in the 1st paragraph you incorrectly said "then" rather than the correct "than," but mostly it was alright as far as that. For the plot, it was intriguing, exciting, and brought a mystery into view, but just barely into view, as if still majorly concealed by darkness, the edge of an unknown object sticking out into dim light, bringing a strong curiousity to know what it is. I will say that I, too, found the ending somewhat disappointing, I wanted to see something darker, more mystical and cryptic, more unknown, deeper, than what was revealed. It's true that what was revealed did still have some of that element, but if you had made it something different or added soemthing more to it it would have added more of that feel to it, and thus made it better. I also find the main character's refusal to surrender his mask unrealistic, true a mask is in a way a part of a matoran, representing him and his identity, but he just got it, and it's not worth his life, I personally would opt to forfeit my mask rather than my life. But anyway, it was good, I look forward to seeing more from you, and I hope this was helpful.

I really am enjoying this story, and I like seeing how the characters react to situations, their personalities are displayed well, which I like. I have seen that excavate, in the last chapter, has fallen out of his normal emotionless state once or twice, is he going to lose that part of his personality? Anyway, I look forward to seeing what you do with this, there are still so many ways you could go, and yet you have not been progressing with unrealistly slow speed, the pace is actually quite realistic and works well. Hope to see the next chapter soon!

Well, being a christian, I was thinking of a more christian interpretation, but I know that alot of people here aren't so I'll give an interpretation more generically understood. It's like a person who has noble intentions and begins an endeavor to try to accomplish something great, but during his time working on the project becomes more enthronged in his project than the noble beliefs and causes that formerly dominated his mind. The obsessive nature of his love for his project has consumed him, and he now lays aside his former strong mental nobility in the interest of accomplishing the project which now controls him. He chases after his goals, leaving all the greatness he used to have behind, even killing people to try to accomplish his goals. He is eventually caught, and his time under the control of the darkness ends. So like someone with noble intentions who begins a great powerful project, but is consumed by his desire to complete the project and ends up dumping not only his nobility but his respect for life in the interest of achieving his goals.