Eyru

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Caldera It was overwhelming. The unbearable tide of sorrow and hunger threatened to drown her again and again, but she resisted. Whisper had not come this far, come so close, to be ripped apart at the threshold of victory. So she swam further down, holding tight to her precious individuality even as it was ripped from her by the crushing press of howling spirits and phantoms. She continued to forget. Or did she? Her essence was already so wounded that she was finding to difficult to tell when she lost something new. Each new hole in her memory seemed to have always existed, and every time a ghost of an aspect tore something from her, she was only aware of its loss for an instant before she accepted that she had always been this way. Down, down down. She saw something ahead now. It looked like a tear or a crack in reality itself. It lanced through the pool like a bolt of lightning frozen in time. It was the color of void, and Whisper could see the green vaporous liquid that surrounded her oozing through the crack. She had found the source of the Caldera. This was where it all came from: herself, these spirits, and all their infinite pain. This was the portal through which Kat had passed when Nuju's portal was destroyed. It was a breach between worlds, and it led to the Far Shore. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy Whisper has forgotten the Rite of Soul Searching and lost the power of Gravity. She has also forgotten the existence of every member of the matoran species, be they matoran, toa, or turaga. Finally, although these steps remain completed, she has forgotten steps 2, 4, and 5 of her Grand Wish. IC: Akamai, Berserk | Kini-Nui Akamai felt their legs freeze into place. They tossed and turned their upper body, making their wound worse. Ichor and oil rained down on the valley, and the Kaita's screams of pain and rage echoed across the land. Then Cravious popped the cockpit hatch open and slid inside, ready to resume control. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian

IC: Akamai, Berserk | Kini-Nui The bident reversed trajectory as quick as thought. A twinge of fear broke through the rage for a moment, but Akamai barely perceived it happening before it felt a stabbing pain in its abdomen. It fell back with the force of the blow. The bident had passed cleanly through its stomach and into the bunker behind it. The shaft of the bident protruded from its body and pointed back towards its sender: Wairuha. The two prongs of the weapon dug deep into the building and rock beneath, effectively pinning the living machine against the bunker. Akamai howled with rage, but couldn't move. Twisting only sent spasms of pain up its torso as pistons and gears and synthetic tissue were pressed against the weapon upon which it was impaled. Silver and black fluids leaked from the wound and dripped down its legs onto the ground, where they quickly began to pool. The mech distracted by shock and pain, Cravious successfully managed to grab ahold of the cockpit entrance and pull himself up. This was his chance to force the cockpit open and get back in. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Gecko Greavesy @everyone?

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Caldera Whisper dove deeper. Her essence was growing tattered as bits and pieces were ripped away to join the swirling maelstrom of spirits. She was enveloped in suffering and pain. The thoughts and whispers of other aspects howled loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She felt despair welling up within her as she searched fruitlessly. All she could see and see was an endless storm of emotions and wishes that seemed to go on forever. Was there anything else? Maybe. Deeper than she had thought possible, she thought saw something gleaming at the bottom of the pool. The ravenous horde ripped at her with renewed frenzy. Larger pieces of her were gone now. She could feel herself forgetting. More than memories, it was like she was forgetting herself. Like her very being was vanishing out from under her, leaving empty spaces where she was sure things had existed a moment ago. Or had they? Even her ability to be sure of anything was disintegrating. in a moment, she might not even realize she had lost anything. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy Whisper's connection to anything outside the Caldera has been severed. This includes her kraata, her desecrated, anyone wearing a mask infected by her, and any aspect who has desecrated her. She has also forgotten the existence of aspects besides herself (i.e. if she met Stannis or Parnassus, it would be like meeting them for the first time). Please continue describing what this is like as Whisper continues to explore the Caldera.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Caldera Whisper's tendril brushed the surface of the Caldera, and he was immediately sucked into the terrifying waters. Once again, he was surrounded by the violent chaos from which he had sprung. The cries and desperate wishes of half-formed aspects filled his mind and shredded at his spirit. He heard prayers for respite from pain and agonized cries begging for death. He felt the unbearable weight of grief on his shoulders and tasted the blood-soaked frenzy of war. Explosions of pain and screams of joy reverberated through his essence. The clamor of the vast cauldron of aspects threatened to pull him apart at the seams: he had what none of them had and what all of them wanted: independence. Individuality. The collective unconsciousness of the Builders would tear him apart and take his power for its own. Perhaps his rejoining might give another lucky aspect the final push it needed to crawl out of the pool and start its own journey. All aspects were doomed to return from whence they came, and all dreaded it because this is what it felt like. To no longer be one, but many... to lose one's own hopes and dreams and personality and become part of an unthinking, unknowing horde of raw emotion and instinct. This was the horde that tore at him now, larger than life and louder than sound and hungrier than famine, desperate to take him for its own. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy Whisper has been sucked into the Caldera. This is a deadly encounter. The collective unconsciousness of the Builders is ripping him apart piece by piece, and if he stays too long, he will return to it. Please tell us how it feels to slowly lose your individuality as Whisper explores the depths of the Caldera.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Caldera The pool received all of Whisper's fury. The elements lashed the surface of the pool, but hardly even caused the rippling green miasma to splash in response. It swallowed them hungrily and gave nothing back. It seemed to call to Whisper as if to a lost child, beckoning him to return to its loving embrace. To give up not only his power and strength, but give up everything. Rejoin his kin. Of course, Whisper would do nothing of the sort. All aspects treasured their individuality, but none more so than the aspect of Change. Return to the Caldera to be reabsorbed into the mass of unborn spirits, the mass of mewling, half-formed wishes and dreams that ached to be made corporeal? The thought made him sick. Still... it seemed to be the only option left. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Caldera Whisper wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the sudden emergence of a toa of fire was definitely not it. Kat stepped out of the Caldera like she was walking out of the ocean. Wisps of green mist curled off her armor, but she was unharmed. She looked around and realized this was not the Kini-Nui. instead of Nuju, she saw a Nui-Kopen with a mass of writhing tendrils hovering nearby, watching her curiously. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @The UltimoScorp

@The UltimoScorp Great Far Shore adventure! it was fun to read. Having read your story, it looks like you met 2 prompts. Here are the rolls for Katrin's Far Shore adventure: 5, 18 Without further ado, Kat exits the Far Shore with the following loot: Katrin's tuning fork staff is now made of pure protosteel. When struck, it emits a high, sweet note that can be heard from far away +1 firestaff As the Kini Nui portal to the Far Shore is currently destroyed, Katrin exits the Far Shore via the Caldera in the Kumu Peninsula. Also, just to clarify: anything aside from designated loot cannot be taken from the Far Shore. It just disappears, and the character exists same as they went in. This means Kat doesn't have the makoki stone or extra power she left with, or anything else she might have tried to take aside from her designated loot.

C: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui As the titanic Kaita battled overhead, swinging weapons the size of airships and wielding elemental powers like gods, Stannis and Oreius solved the puzzle of the Suva-Kaita. As fire and water filled their respective alcoves in the smaller shrines surrounding the suva-kaita, the sound of stones grinding together began. The two Toa Maru felt the rumble of something moving. The stone walkways shook and the suva-kaita began to corkscrew downwards. As it corkscrewed ever deeper, it revealed a darkened spiral staircase heading deep into the unknown darkness. Each individual step slid out from under grooves as the suva-kaita passed. Dust rushed up from the mouth of the revealed entrance. At last, after several minutes, the faintest echo of the suva-kaita grinding to a halt reached Stannis and Oreius out of the darkness. The lip of the spiral staircase was inscribed with glyphs in the writing of aspects. There was no doubt about it: another taboo lingered on the cusp of remembrance. Stannis could see the taboo hovering in the air in the center of the stairwell. Two entwined semi-circles with their flat sides facing away from each other formed the shape of the glyph. Upon snatching it from the air, the following words echoed into the aspect's consciousness: Goodbye Release each yoke of mine Each destined path is one Remove barriers as they align Not all must circle around a sun Hello OOC: @EmperorWhenua If he doesn't already know it, Stannis may learn the following Taboo:

IC: Akamai, Berserk | Kini-Nui Sidra's telekinetic blast caught the other Kaita full in the face. Akamai was blasted back and came crashing to the ground. Unfortunately, Cravious had just at this moment been trying to leap up onto the back of the mech. The titanic machine, thrown back by the force of the blast, hit him in midair like a freight train. The impact knocked Cravious back to the earth like a falling star, where he landed in an explosion of dirt and pain. Akamai hit the ground with such force that the earth quaked. The pillars of the Kini-Nui trembled like bowling pins, and the impact sent up a great gust of wind that irretrievably scattered the itty bitty bits of what had once been the portal to the Far Shore. A cloud of dust rose from the crash zone, but before Sidra could move in to capitalize, the berserk mech emerged from the cloud, shaking off the impact. It breathed heavily, venting steam in great billows. Strings of lubricant drooled from its mouth. Its empty hand jerked, and suddenly it held a long, shimmering bident in its hand. The points of the weapon glinted cruelly in the dying sunlight. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Gecko Greavesy and everyone else in the Kini-Nui. Akamai used its turn to stand up and grab a new weapon. You may make your next moves. IC: Oreius | Kini-Nui The ground shook beneath him as Oreius shook off the pain of the giant mech's attack and followed Stannis's instruction. Jogging over to one of the alcoves the Wanderer had pointed out, he conjured a handful of flames and placed them inside. OOC: @EmperorWhenua

IC: Akamai, Berserk | Kini-Nui Akamai caught Wairuha's strike on the edge of its club. With a metallic snarl, it stepped in and reached up with the other hand, scrabbling at its face in an attempt to gouge out Wairuha's eyes. Sidra was startled by the sheer ferocity of the living machine. As the gigantic mech was constantly jostling and moving, it was difficult for Mazor to grab hold of anything. He couldn't land on the Kaita's back, but he managed to place a hand on it. A moment's concentration revealed that there was no life force to drain. That —or maybe his powers just didn't work on a creature of this size. Cravious activated his new mask power, but nothing happened. Instead, he heard a mental ping come from his mask. He hadn't had time to take his mech for much of a test drive, so he was learning that hard way that the cockpit was sealed off from the outside world and couldn't be affected by powers or breed quirks in either direction. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Smudge8 @Kal the Guardian @EmperorWhenua @~Xemnas~

IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui The blade fell. Akamai screamed. Their elbow exploded in pain like a blast of dynamite. Their arm was gone, lopped off like a wayward tree banch. They watched it fall to the ground, wires sparking and oil spraying. It buckled as it hit the earth, then lay there like a dead thing. Its fingers twitched as muscles in the amr spasmed and jerked, using up the last of the electricity that still coursed through its frame. It leaked a mix of oil and blood onto the grass, staining it black. Shock and rage coursed through the living machine. Who dared lift a weapon against them? Where was their pilot? What had he done? The realization of the blasphemy their pilot had committed only made their anger burn hotter. Then Cravious began to dissect the limb, and their pain and anger turned to horror. Who was this monster who had taken control of them? The Kaita was in shock. They hardly understood what they saw before them. Their arm, though fully regrown, still ached, and the echo of the pain still reverberated through their spirit. They trembled, barely in control of themselves. They could hardly even remember their own name. Then their pilot exited the cockpit, and they lost all control. The titanic machine stood up, leaving Cravious on the ground. It convulsed and spasmed, each band of muscle fibers receiving simultaneous contradictory orders. Then its six eyes clenched shut and a metallic scream of unbridled fury tore itself from the kaita's mouth, sounding over the valley like a demonic mockery of the noble words spoken only moments before. The Kaita's mental wrath became less and less coherent until there was no telling where it ended or began. It was an endless storm of rage that blotted out the sun, swirling and building upon itself like a maelstrom until it swept itself away. The Kaita went berserk. It sensed riteborn. It sensed enemies. ENEMIES ON THE SACRED GROUND. KILL. RIP. TEAR. DESTROY. DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! No longer able to tell the difference between friend and foe, Akamai leapt upon the temple to attack the riteborn it sensed there. In reality this was Howai, accompanied by its pilot, but Akamai could no longer tell the difference. The ground shook under its feet. It summoned a war club to its hand, and, focusing all its rage upon the being it sensed there, it brought the weapon down with a crash. OOC: @Kal the Guardian As a result of trauma inflicted on it by its pilot, your Kaita ACR has gone berserk. This means it can no longer distinguish between friend and foe, and it will treat all other Kaita mechs as riteborn. It will be played by the GMs until its pilot can get back in the cockpit and reassert control. @Snelly Howai is under attack. @Smudge8 @Unreliable Narrator @EmperorWhenua @Gecko Greavesy Although not the targets of the assault, Mazor, Nuju, Stannis, and Sidra are in the splash zone of Akamai's attack.

IC: Icarax | ??? There was no more time. Korruhn and Grime vanished. Icarax was no lowly sorcerer to disguise his power with cheap tricks. The teleportation was accompanied by neither sparks nor flashes. One moment the two stood in his chamber, and the next they did not. They reappeared back on the sandy earth of the Kumu Peninsula as if they had never left. The door Korruhn had entered through was now only a doorframe with nothing inside. Icarax closed the entrances to his domain one by one. He knew it would not stop his sibling, but it might buy enough time to prepare for their arrival. With a thought, he beckoned his sons to their stations. With another, he caused the whole of his domain to plunge into darkness and silence. Doors closed and sealed themselves tightly. Ancient traps and tripwires were wound up, ready to spring. The anti-intrusion alarms that had caught many a trespasser were set. The aspect moved through the darkness in his rahkshi body, mentally inspecting every niche of his little kingdom and sealing up every way in. It was all pointless, he knew. Doomed from the start. He could not hold off the imminent violence that threatened like a storm on the horizon. He could only delay it. Sure as the cycle, Spiriah was coming. And Spiriah always found a way in.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui Bunker Hand over hand, limb after trembling limb, Cravious slowly ascended the side of the titanic ACR. The machine knelt on the floor, hands bound with strips of metal, and the various grooves and joints provided easy access to handholds. Were he at full strength, the NUVA could have climbed it in seconds. But drained as he was, it was a struggle simply not to fall off. Only the determination to take hold of his prize kept him moving. As he climbed, he realized the venting of gas he had heard earlier was actually the ACR's breathing: each hissing ventilation was accompanied by a nearly imperceptible rising and falling beneath his hands and feet. With a final grunt of exertion, Cravious pulled himself up over the ACR's shoulder and into the open cockpit. His entrance was more of a tumble than a stepping down, but he landed more comfortably than he thought he would. He pulled himself into a sitting position on one of three silicone chairs and instantly sighed with relief. The chair seemed perfectly designed to accomodate his body; maybe it was his exhausted brain playing tricks on him, but it almost seemed to be making miniscule adjustments even now. it was also his favorite color, though he wasn't sure it had been that color a moment ago when he fell in. The rest of the cockpit was dark, but Cravious felt comfortable and safe within. Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to the memory of the placid lake he had envisioned during the NUVA awakening. His feet rested on the still water, and another pair stood beneath, like a mirror. At the time, the shape had been dark and unrecognizable. But now Cravious knew exactly what he had seen. Without warning or prompting, the cockpit began to close. It slid back into the spine of the ACR between the armored shoulder blades. Glowing circuitry began to light up, illuminating the walls the ceiling, the floor, and even Cravious himself. The machine was waking up. As it awoke, it began to jostle and shift, but its newfound pilot didn't need to worry about keeping his balance. A kind of magnetic seatbelt anchored him to the seat, keeping him safely strapped in. It didn't feel uncomfortable or restricting. It just felt safe. Were he less occupied, Cravious would have loved to investigate the technology more closely, but everything was happening so quickly he could hardly think straight. He raised a hand to feel around for some sort of control panel and was greeted by the shrieking noise of tearing metal. He was already plugged in to the ACR, no wires or controls necessary. His commands were executed at the speed of thought, and the raising of his arm had caused the ACR to raise its arm in the same way, breaking through its metallic bonds like they were made of paper. He prepared to give another command, to try to stabilize or something, but he became aware of another presence besides his own in the cockpit. It was the machine itself. It echoed him, but also moved on its own, and right now it was directing the mech to exit. And exit it did: pushing itself to all fours, the ACR began crawling towards the light of the tunnel's entrance. Each step seemed to shake the ground. Cravious was lost in an exhilerated mix of power and shock. He was barely in control, but the mech's excitement, its yearning for freedom was so vivid and tangible that he found it difficult to care. He was along for the ride, and he had forgotten to be afraid. Then everything became light and his stomach dropped and his ears popped as he rapidly ascended, and he realized the ACR now stood tall above the Kini-Nui, looking down on the ground a hundred feet below. Cravious knew machines. This ACR was undoubtedly a machine, and yet it was so much more than that. It was alive; it trembled with excitement and battle-lust like a warrior of iron and blood. This was no lifeless vehicle like an ordinary ACR or airship. He could feel the warmth of the sun as it dipped in the sky; it could feel the cool wind as it passed over the mountains, carrying the barely-perceptible salt-smell of the sea. Everything felt new and strange, and yet it also felt familiar, like reuniting with an old friend. The hands that swayed gently in the air did not belong to him, but he could assume control of them with the slightest thought. His will passed effortlessly through the ACR at the speed of thought. Puffing clouds of steam vented from the mech's mouth, keeping time to his own breathing. At some point in the past minute, Cravious realized his powers had fully returned. He felt completely rejuvenated, as if his recent death had not happened at all. Not only that, but he felt even stronger than he had before. Forget NUVA —he felt as strong as three of his kind. And with each passing moment, Cravious felt more comfortable existing in this shared space with the spirit of the mech. He was both pilot and mech; he was simultaneously driver and vehicle. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined a machine like this. It was as far beyond the Debt Collector as his old ACR was beyond a bicycle. He looked down upon the valley of the Kini Nui and smiled, and the mech seemed to smile with him. Then it spoke. It was a voice without gender or breed, and it spoke both in Cravious's mind and through the mouth of the titanic machine: "I am Akamai, Great Kaita of Valor, bound in my casket and shroud. I walk unflinching the path of the warrior. My pilot is Cravious NUVA, one blessed in the light of Tren Krom.” A kusarigama appeared in the ACR's hands. It had not been there a moment ago, but now there it was: as cold and solid and real as any weapon could be. Its haft was etched with unknown letters that spelled out a battle-prayer to a long-forgotten god. The sickle's blade gleamed with deadly purpose. A spiked metal ball swung gently in the air, hanging from a long chain attached to the end of the haft. Cravious could sense where the weapon had originated: the suva kaita down in the center of the Kini-Nui. Akamai had called the weapon up to its hand with only a thought, choosing it from a vast cache of other weapons designed for the battle and slaughter of the great rite-born monsters. The ACR stood on the hillside, weapon in hand, and looked out over the valley. Cravious could feel the Kaita within him and all around him. It saw, one by one, the five other bunkers sitting empty around the Great Temple. He felt a grim sense of purpose well up in his spirit. The living machine thirsted for the blood of the rite-born, and it knew that its time was at hand. Not idly were all six Kaita summoned out of slumber to stand against the nightmares. It would join its brethren in combat and win glory on the field of battle. "I now give myself to my pilot," Akamai said, its voice echoing across the valley. Cravious could feel the presence of the kaita even as it submitted to his will. His fingers tightened around the haft of his weapon, and a slow smile expanded across his face. No longer could anyone call him weak. No longer would he be beholden to any other. He felt power humming through his very being, and he accepted it wholeheartedly. He shifted his feet and felt the ground shake beneath him, sending a flock of birds wheeling out of the trees and over the valley, their faint shadows dappling the stones of the Kini-Nui far below. OOC: Congratulations @Kal the Guardian! You may submit Akamai's profile for approval.

IC: Oreius | The Iapyx, Descending The Kini Nui lay before them, white stone gleaming in the late afternoon light. Oreius sighed. The fire, so quickly summoned, seemed to have gone out just as suddenly. "Let's finish this, then," he said quietly. He reached a hand up and pulled at his shoulder. Felt the weight of Inu on his back. Resigned himself to his fate, whatever it would be. "All of it. If we can." OOC: @EmperorWhenua

IC: Oreius | The Iapyx, Zakazian Skies The apology, instead of mollifying the toa, caused a flash of anger to pass across Oreius's face. His hands tightened around the yoke and he glanced back at the wizard with all the fire and rancor one expected of a toa of fire. "Sorry? For what, 'Stannis'? For lying to those who called you friend? For misleading your people? Or for betraying everyone who ever loved you?" Oreius shook his head. "Stop pretending. Not when it's just us. I know what you are. I don't think you can even feel sorrow." OOC: @EmperorWhenua

IC: Oreius | The Iapyx, Zakazian Skies "As if I ever had a choice," Oreius replied through gritted teeth. Without being told, he threw a switch and adjusted their course. The airship began to sail back towards the Kini Nui. OOC: @EmperorWhenua

IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui Bunker The door took everything. Its terrible hunger consumed Cravious's element first, then moved on to his physical and mental strength. The newly-borne NUVA felt himself slipping into a sort of daze, but his loss of focus did not cause the outflow of energy to abate. On the contrary —the outpouring grew only fiercer as he lost the willpower to hold anything back. His very life force poured itself into the bottomless hunger. His limbs trembled, and he sank to his knees, hands still raised to the door, but he felt it less than he observed it, like it was happening to someone else. Everything felt distant, and yet far too close. Fear coursed through him. No reward could be worth this. Even if the door stopped now, there would be hardly anything left of him. But it didn't stop. It took everything. Cravious NUVA died for the second time. The husk of his body finally empty of all strength, it swayed for a moment before falling to its side before the vast, implacable door. Its heartlight faded. Then everything was still. The sound of gas being vented broke the silence. Invisible seals broke and valves released, and with a high-pitched hum the door began to open like the maw of some titanic beast. It split horizontally; the top half of the door ascended into the ceiling while the bottom half descended into the ground. Curls of white mist drifted out between the two doors as they slowly pulled apart, but this was not the only thing released as the door opened. The lower half of the door continued to sink into the earth until it was low enough for the energized protodermis within to spill over. The golden liquid cascaded over the descending door in a rush of splashing, sparkling light. It turned dirt into grass and and grass into flowers, and it washed over Cravious's motionless corpse in a golden flood, leaving the NUVA's body shimmering and wet. Continuing it course down the hill, the rest of the purified liquid eventually sank into the ground, leaving an abundance of health and life in its wake. Cravious's heartlight began to glow. With a shocked gasp, his eyes snapped open and his lungs started breathing again. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Dying had not been a pleasant experience, and he didn't feel much better now. He felt weak and shaky all over, like he'd just run a marathon. His muscles quivered and his optics struggled to focus; he was alive, but barely. It was all he could do to roll over and gradually work his way up to a kneeling position. Even this effort caused his head to spin and his stomach to twist. But from this slightly higher vantage point, he was in a better position to behold the door. Both doors had by now fully receded into the ceiling and the floor. The doorway yawned fully open before him, cavernous and dim. He sensed something inside that was meant for him—surely the treasure he had long sought. But he could not yet see it. The tunnel was full of a soft white mist that obscured almost everything. Only by straining his eyes could Cravious barely make out the vague impression of a silhouette within. Whatever was inside, it stood almost as high as the ceiling of the tunnel, and it did not move. Occasionally, the venting of gas could be heard again, echoing out of the vast bunker like the sound of the sea. OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC: Vuata Maca Tree | Fau Swamp A rush of images and sensations flooded Viltia's mind. She smelled fresh, wet soil after a storm. She saw a snapped-off branch gradually heal, the sky flickering as the open wound was sealed with sap and grown over with bark. Leaves danced in the wind. Rainwater soaked her upturned face, and nectar glazed her tongue. Then the tree's thoughts were interrupted by a violent trembling. Its roots, bound together with those surrounding and plunging to the island's depths, sensed a vast restoration. The ocean receded. Long-lost land returned. It couldn't communicate this to Viltia, but she sensed a deep satisfaction emanating from the tree. A wonderful and a surprisingly smug sense of things returning to the way they should be. The task was not finished. But it was begun. A light began to emanate from a whorl in the tree's trunk. It started small, like the glow of a firefly, then grew brighter. At last, the tree's bark rippled and parted, baring a shining orb as if holding out a gift. A single Vuata Maca crystal. Thank you. OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp Viltia opened container after container of energized protodermis and poured their contents down upon the swamp. The golden ichor fell like rain, showering the soil and flowing up roots into trunks and limbs, transforming as it went. Pools of stagnant water bloomed with new life. Branches twisted and stretched. Birds squawked and shrieked. Rahi screamed in surprise and terror. Arms turned into wings and eyes blinked out of bare skin. Leaves changed colors and shapes. Tails sprouted and fingers multiplied. Roots bulged and distended. Muscles swelled and bones hardened. The swamp had never before felt like such a single organism. Each spark of life was connected to all the others, and each was being purified. Viltia's tethers spun and twirled at their work. The toa panted with exertion, but she pressed on, exhilarated at transformation that was taking place. Far to the north, a titanic skull opened its jaws and laughed in the face of dragonfire. "MORE!" OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui The stasis field dropped. Axxon's hands tightened around the handle of his axe. Rage burned in his eyes. Then Tuyet grabbed his arm. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

IC Vuata Maca Tree | Fau Swamp Sour acid rain became sweet. A snarl rippled into birdsong. The burning stench of ACR fumes blew away into the taste of clean water. A flash of anger passed through the tree's discordant mental images. Clean it all. OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula Taja opened her mouth to say something —she didn't know quite what yet, but knowing her feelings about Stannis, it wasn't likely to be something particularly nice— when the Avohkii's power washed over her like a wave. It felt like a bad sunburn. Her eyes itched and her skin tingled, and her mouth felt dry. That sucked. But the wave of understanding that followed was a soothing balm. She saw everything clearly. For a moment, the scales of void sickness fell from her eyes, and she saw the world as she had seen it in a different lifetime. She remembered how she had once trusted in destiny and listened to the stars. The words of a song someone was singing seemed to echo around her, guiding her on a path preordained. A sense of purpose blossomed within her: she was a Toa! All the things she'd said to Korruhn had been half-spoken to herself as well: she was desperate to believe that Dume had chosen her for a special reason because she felt so unbelievable inadequate. She always felt like an imposter. People like Skyra and Knichou had the brawn and the brains to be Toa, but an astronomer? What could she possibly offer? So she told herself stories over and over of Dume's careful decision. She removed herself from the equation and focused on destiny, because if everything happened as it was destined to, then she was meant to be a Toa. But as she had begun to believe less and less in destiny, she had also begun also to regard herself as a mistake. She had been unworthy all along. She saw the truth now. There was no way she could deserve becoming a Toa. The transformation itself, she realized, was the least interesting thing about any Toa. What mattered was what you did with it. There was no grand arbiter ruling who could become a Toa and who couldn't. There was no special quality or secret code prewritten in her DNA. Even Dume had turned out to be a weak, flawed old man, so the fact that he chose her meant nothing. And if she couldn't be chosen... if being chosen didn't make her special... then it was impossible to be worthy or unworthy. She were just a Toa. All she had were her own good intentions and her stubborn determination to be the hero her people needed. Was that enough? Trick question. There was no enough. Neither was there insufficient. There was only the fact that she was a Toa, and whoever she chose to be was up to her. It felt like a burden was lifted off her shoulders. Taja took a deep breath— And watched Korruhn look past her open hand and toss his stone into the dirt. A flame of anger flared in her chest, all the hotter because she couldn't deceive herself into thinking it was unjustified. So that was how he chose to be? Even in the illuminating light of the Avohkii that made everything perfectly clear, Korruhn chose spite over cooperation, hatred over friendship, and petty revenge over saving his people. He hadn't needed to involve Sidra at all. Taja had made the request on her own terms, from Toa to Toa, and he had thrown it back in her face. There was no sense of kinship between them after all, she supposed. She had thought more of Korruhn than he deserved. As for Stannis... well, she still didn't totally like Stannis, but she now understood his purpose, and she he knew he was pursuing his grand design because he truly believed it was good for everyone. Maybe it was. She wasn't sure. But with the apocalypse approaching, she figured it wasn't worth burning any bridges. If the final stones didn't materialize, then Stannis might be their only chance at staving off total annihilation. "Here," Taja said, picking up the stone and handing it to Sidra. She looked back at Stannis. "I guess we'll see you when we see you. Hopefully before time runs out." OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester

IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui With trembling limbs, Skyra slowly climbed up the mech and pulled herself into the front seat of the open cockpit. She was exhausted —opening the door had taken everything she had— but determined to claim what was hers. She let out a sigh of relief as she sank back into the silicone of the seat: it was blissfully comfortable, and seemed molded to fit her body perfectly. She wasn't exactly sure what color it had been a moment ago, but now the seat was her favorite color. The rest of the cockpit was dark, but Skyra felt a strange sense of kinship with it. Unbidden, her mind drifted back to the memory of the placid lake she had envisioned during the NUVA awakening. Her feet rested on the still water, and another pair stood beneath, like a mirror. At the time, the shape had been dark and unrecognizable. But now Skyra knew exactly what she had seen. Without prompting, the cockpit began to close. It slid back into the spine of the ACR between the armored shoulder blades. It sealed with a hiss, and everything was dark for a moment, but it was not a dangerous darkness. It was quiet and calm, like the moment before the sun rises. Glowing circuitry began to light up, illuminating the walls the ceiling, the floor, and even Skyra itself. The machine was waking up. As it awoke, the ACR jostled and shifted, but Skyra didn't need to worry about keeping her balance. A sort of magnetic seatbelt tugged at her body, keeping her safely strapped to the seat. It was not uncomfortable or restricting —it just felt safe. Skyra raised her hand to feel around for some kind of control panel, but she was greeted instead by the shrieking noise of tearing metal. She was already jacked in to the ACR, no control panel necessary, and the ACR had raised its arm just as she had, ripping through its bonds. Then the ACR pushed itself up onto all fours and begun crawling towards the light of the tunnel's entrance. Each step seemed to shake the ground. Skyra was exhilarated. She was barely in control, but the machine's excitement, its yearning for freedom, was so tangible that she was almost lost in it. Then everything became light and she realized the ACR now stood tall above the Kini-Nui, looking down on the ground a hundred feet below. This ACR was a machine, and yet it was so much more. It was alive; it trembled with excitement and battle-lust. It was a warrior, much like Skyra herself, and she was a part of it. She could feel the warmth of the sun as it dipped in the sky; it could feel the cool wind as it passed over the mountains, carrying the barely-perceptible salt-smell of the sea. Everything felt new and strange, and yet it also felt familiar, like reuniting with an old friend. The hands that swayed gently in the air did not belong to her, but she could assume control of them with the slightest thought. Her will passed effortlessly through the ACR at the speed of thought. Puffing clouds of steam vented from the mech's mouth, keeping time to her own breathing. At some point in the past minute, Skyra realized her powers had fully returned. Sshe felt completely rejuvenated. Not only that, but she felt even stronger than she had before. Forget NUVA —she felt as strong as three toa. And with each passing moment, Skyra felt more comfortable existing in this shared space. She was both pilot and mech; she was simultaneously driver and vehicle. She looked down upon the valley of the Kini Nui and smiled, and the mech seemed to smile with her. Then it spoke. It was a voice without gender or breed, and it spoke both in Skyra's mind and through the mouth of the titanic machine: "I am Howai, Great Kaita of Willpower, bound in my casket and shroud. My resolve is unwavering, and I will fight until the end of time. My pilot is Skyra Daring NUVA, one blessed in the light of Tren Krom.” A battle axe appeared in the ACR's hands. It had not been there a moment ago, but now there it was: as cold and solid and real as any weapon could be. Its shaft was illustrated with etchings of battles fought long ago. The axe's blade was thick and strong, and as sharp as any of Skyra's quips. A bill hook on the opposite side glinted in the light, ready for combat. Skyra could sense where the weapon had originated: the suva kaita down in the center of the Kini-Nui. Howai had called the weapon up to its hand with only a thought, choosing it from a vast cache of other weapons designed for the battle and slaughter of the great rite-born monsters. "I now give myself to my pilot," Howai said, its voice echoing across the valley. Skyra could feel the presence of the kaita even as it submitted to her pilot's will. She raised her six eyes and looked out over the mountains, and beyond them, to the encroaching sea. Birds floated gently across the sky. The island was vanishing out from under them. The stakes were high. The opponent was time itself. Some might call it an unwinnable battle against an unbeatable opponent, but Skyra Daring had never backed down from a fight, and she wasn't about to start now. OOC: @Snelly Congratulations! You may now submit Howai's profile for approval.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui Bunker Skyra gave herself to the door, and the door accepted everything. Every ounce of her newfound power, every drop of willpower, every trace of her lifeforce... the door hungrily swallowed it all. Her power splashed against the door with all the force of a hurricane, but the metal was unblemished and the hunger unsated. Where the other NUVA had felt fear in the face of the endless void, Skyra felt nothing but steely determination. To call her headstrong was an understatement. Few others could look death itself in the eye unblinking. Some might call her reckless or even foolish, but the line between stupidity and bravery has always been finer than any hero has been willing to admit. Many a victory has been claimed by someone who was too stubborn to accept defeat. The door drained her to the dregs, leaving only a dead, empty husk of a toa that sank to its knees before toppling to the ground. Its heartlight went out. It did not move again. The ensuing silence was broken by the sound of valves releasing and the hissing of gas being vented. With a high-pitched hum, the door split horizontally and began to open like the jaws of a giant beast. The bot half slid up into the bunker's ceiling, and the lower half sank into the ground. When it had descended about halfway, a flood of golden liquid began to spill over the edge. The drops turned into rivulets and the rivulets into streams, and finally a flood of energized protodermis splashed to the ground and washed over Skyra's prone body. The purified liquid shone and sparkled in the light of the late afternoon, and as it ran down the hill it left green grass and flowers in its wake. With a gasp, Skyra's eyes snapped open. Her lungs drew a shaky breath, and her heartlight began to glow again. Each heartbeat pounded in her ears. She felt weak and and lightheaded, and all her muscles were sore. But she was alive, and the sensation of life was sweet relief compared to the cold void of death. Rolling over, she struggled to her knees and looked up at the bunker door. Both doors had fully receded into the ceiling and the floor and the doorway yawned fully open before her now, cavernous and dim. A soft white mist drifted out of the tunnel, obscuring much of the interior, but if she looked closely, Skyra could see a hulking silhouette deep inside, barely visible. It stood almost as high as the ceiling of the tunnel, and did not move. The mist drifted out, but it did not clear. If she wanted to see what was inside, she would have to enter. OOC: @Snelly IC: Vuata Maca Tree | Fau Swamp For a moment, Viltia couldn't make out anything else. The tree spoke more images, but they were murky and unclear. Snippets of sounds and flashes of color filled her mind, but there was nothing concrete to hold on to. She saw a fragment of blue sky that dissolved into the cry of a gukko bird. Crashes of thunder spun dizzily around her, and she tasted the cool sensation of falling rain. The sun flickered into the smell of wet earth. Then darkness. The tree seemed to be trying to compose its thoughts before it tried again. Deep roots twisted through rich earth. Insects chittered. Then Viltia tasted metal on her tongue. Acid burned on her skin. A soundless cry, the snapping of branches— Poison. Everywhere. Can't grow. OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula Taja was surprised by the venom in Korruhn's voice. Then she clenched her jaw in frustration. She knew the other Toa was no fan of Sidra (she wasn't exactly the ex-dark hunter's cheerleader, either), but was Korruhn really willing to doom the world for the sake of his pride? To let everything collapse just so Sidra could lose everything? Sidra wasn't the only one with something to lose here. If Nuju was right, then everyone's lives were at stake. Would he really spit in all their faces just to "own" Sidra? It was a depressing thought, but as Taja looked closer, she wondered if she had a clue as to where it was coming from. That rancor, that bitterness... she had felt those same emotions jostling for position in her own mind lately. Perhaps the result of her transformation --maybe Stannis had more accurately described the influence of shadow than she'd like to admit-- or perhaps for another reason altogether. Maybe Korruhn was feeling the same way, and maybe he was farther along than she realized. "Korruhn," she ventured, cutting off any chance of Sidra replying and further escalating the situation. "Forget Sidra. Look at me. I've lost as much as you have. We lost our whole world, and all we gained was responsibility. I know how heavy it is. The burden of being a toa... of trying to follow the rules of a universe that doesn't exist anymore... it's not easy, and it's not fair. But we were chosen for a reason. Something bigger than all of us brought us to Dume's office that day. Call it destiny, call it fate... I'm not even sure what I think it was anymore. But it was something. You became my brother that day, and hopefully you feel the same way." She extended a hand. "So, for the sake of that bond. For Dume's sake. From one Toa to another. Help me save our people." OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula "That sounds like Stannis," Taja replied to Sidra. "He seems to have a habit of doing whatever he wants." Korruhn's next statement took her by surprise. Leklo was alive too? Taja had more questions than she knew what to do with, and she was sure Korruhn did too. But they couldn't afford to ask them. "There's no time," she said, shaking her head sadly. "We need to go now, Korruhn, or that last stop might just be the end of everything as we know it." OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy