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Spectrus was a long dead Makuta from times past. In his day, Spectrus was quite fond of destroying armies in a rather peculiar way. He would stealthily have one of the enemy soldiers killed. He would then reanimate that soldier's corpse with his Kanohi Tryna, and have him kill another soldier. The more of his enemies killed, the more corpses he was able to revive and use to kill more of the enemy forces. Spectrus would repeat this process until none of the enemy forces remained alive and would then release the undead beings from his control. The inspiration for this MOC came from the idea that the Mask of Reanimation was considered an immoral mask. It seemed logical that at some point a Makuta would have worn one. As always, feedback is appreciated. (links to higher resolution images under the pictures below) https://www.flickr.com/photos/lubrickon/14967220968/ https://www.flickr.com/photos/lubrickon/15130768326/ https://www.flickr.com/photos/lubrickon/14967223157/
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The BIONICLE canon is dark, full of horrors, unnecessary sci-fi-ness and inconsistency, and we're trying to make it a bit more consistent. Behold the table of kraata powers (and possibly other ones)! Version 1.1. Version 1.5 by Tremah. Version 2.0 by Tremah. -
The autumn of our lives asks us to recede, determining whether we shall last the winter… Episode 00: My World Has Changed My name is Adrinor and I was born in the universe of the Great Spirit, Mata Nui. In this world, for 14,000 years, the League of Six Kingdoms controlled many realms with a forceful grip. Their reign was simple and their demands as well: align yourself with the League or become their enemy. By declaring these enemies to be in conflict with Mata Nui as well—having received the divine right to rule the universe—the Barraki were able to dispatch their rivals without remorse and gained a fearful respect as the mighty warlords they were. In time, the world was not enough, and the Barraki sought the one seat of power seemingly out of our reach – Mata Nui's. This betrayal was revealed to the mysterious Brotherhood of Makuta, and one of their kind flanked by his noble legions managed to successfully put down the attempt to usurp Mata Nui's throne. In a single day of battle, the League's warriors were defeated and displaced, bringing a swift end to the rule of the Barraki. It was their abrupt departure that gave rise to the burden of choice throughout the universe, allowing islands to elect leaders that put the interests of their kind before the orders of a half dozen warlords. An organization known as the Dark Hunters began operating out of Odina during this time, nearly monopolizing the business of hiring out biomechs to perform unscrupulous tasks. Elsewhere, relations began to sour between the districts of Metru Nui, and what had begun as minor disputes among the Matoran led to all-out civil war that divided a once prosperous city. Without their labor, a Great Disruption began throughout the universe and it became abundantly apparent that Mata Nui fell weaker with each passing day. Suns lost their shimmer, seas fell quiet, and the wind carried an icy touch. These were the darkest and most desperate times the universe had ever seen. Everything we knew was shutting down slowly, but surely, and we were hopeless to stop it. I have seen a great deal during my lifetime, but the story I am about to tell is from an era of terrible memories. This is ultimately a story of responsibility and the battle between light and darkness that surrounds us all. Looking back, it would be arrogant to say I lived through those days. On the contrary, I barely survived them. Episode 01: Soldier On A powerful light shone down through my window, illuminating my face and stirring me awake. I squinted against the intensity of the sun, feeling the warmth of a familiar star as I slowly sat up in my bed. I was three stories above the ground level, peering out at the island of Stelt with mixed feelings. The island's caste system made the elite Steltians (their self-proclaimed title) the undisputed rulers of the land with Matoran ranking just below them. The Ohnbiek, meanwhile, were relegated to being laborers and the Pontiir were slaves to slaughter one another in the arenas. My employer, a Steltian named Voporak, had agreed to allow my crew to rent out several rooms above one of his coliseums. Few buildings lasted very long on Stelt, but anything that supported a good fight was sure to hold. After the first few years, I grew accustomed to sleeping through the sound of biomechs being murdered beneath my room. While Steltians went about their morning in the dirt roads below, I pulled my weapon out from behind my bedpost and set it at my side, carefully examining the silver and obsidian wonder. It was a gunblade, a specially crafted weapon made many centuries earlier. It once belonged to a friend I had the misfortune to dig a hole in the dirt for, not long after the League collapsed. Unlike the revolver gunblades sometimes manufactured in Nynrah, my weapon possessed a thinner blade and a long, bayonet-shaped attachment on one side. This was where my bullets fired from, activated by a sequence of gears that connected to the trigger. The grip piece of the weapon was slightly curved, allowing me better control whether I needed to shoot or swing. Above that was a guard piece that arced back from the protosteel blade, doubling as a stabilizer when I took long-range shots. The gunblade was a fine weapon, finer than any I could have asked for. I placed the weapon on my back and stared down at my armor for a moment, shades of crimson and ivory composing my sleek parts. A male Meldin, my form was similar to that of a Toa, minus the elemental powers. In spite of that fact, after years of using the gunblade and many decades as an outlaw, I had trained and achieved a physical strength that rivaled some of Mata Nui's champions. I was living a dream, pursuing a life of freedom alongside a crew of likeminded biomechs. I described my gunblade so particularly because it was the catalyst of my freedom, the instrument that took me across the Matoran Universe, exploring new lands and carrying out jobs for the right price. My team was like a privatized sector of Dark Hunters and, as you might imagine, we were on the Shadowed One's radar. Voporak's clan offered my crew a degree of protection from wandering Dark Hunters on Stelt, though I remained conflicted about how their island operated. Whenever I broached the subject with Voporak, however, he politely reminded me that it was not my place to argue the matter. He was a clan leader, not me. I was not even from Stelt - my native land of Meldio just south of the Southern Continent. Steltian society was the concern of the Steltians and, if they were content to wage war until the end of the world, that was their business. I opened my bedroom door and shut it behind me, whistling as I headed down the corridor to speak with Voporak about new work. I heard a weak grunt echo above me and instinctively drew my weapon, pointing it toward the ceiling. One of Voporak's guards, a Steltian named Sidorak, was forcibly connected to the ceiling by what appeared to be magnetic force. He suddenly dropped, crashing on his face and passing out. "I traveled a long way to speak with you," a voice called from around the corner. "Your friend seemed to think his arm blade would stop me." I smirked at the thought as I lowered my weapon, flipping Sidorak onto his back with a push of my foot. "This Steltian is an insincere, power-hungry moron. Had you done this to one of my actual friends, my patience would be much thinner right now." My visitor stepped into view, a lone Toa of magnetism. His gunmetal and black armor was scratched and scraped, suggesting he'd seen as much of battle as I had. He wielded a launcher of unknown origin in his left hand and a magnetic weapon in his right. I paid close attention to his lime green eyes, staring me down from behind his jet black Kadin. "You have a name, hero?" I asked. The Toa held his stern expression. "You're Adrinor, right?" "No one's told me otherwise," I said, relaxing a little bit. If the Toa wanted a fight, we would have been fighting already. Toa did not dance around their intentions often, it was not in their nature. "My name is Jovan. My team heard about you a couple months back," he told me. "You were on an assignment in the Northern Continent, escorting a Toa with some dangerous enemies. I was told the mission went successfully." "I got paid, if that says anything," I replied, letting one of my fingers wrap around the trigger of my weapon. "I don't like the suspicion that I'm being followed, so you might want to make your point soon." "Then I'll dissolve any suspicions and tell you outright that my fellow Toa and I have been on your trail," Jovan said awkwardly before clearing his throat. "After seeing your team in action, I think you're exactly what we need. I'd like to hire your crew as security detail for my own." "And where would we be going if I accepted?" "Before I say," Jovan started uncertainly, "I'd like you to accompany me out to the balcony momentarily. I need you to see something." Sidorak groaned and rapidly blinked his eyes, glancing up at me. "What happened?" "Business transaction," I muttered. "I'd tell you not to run off in case things turn against me on the balcony, but I have a feeling you'd just accidentally shoot me anyway." I followed Jovan out onto the nearest balcony of the coliseum, watching him put his weapons away. I stepped out further then, catching sight of four more Toa near the building's entrance. They had incapacitated an Ohnbiek guard by the name of Krekka, his burly form collapsed into the dirt. Nearby Steltians went about their typical morning activities, walking by or chatting up merchants with wares for sale. The sight of Toa on Stelt was a rarity, but no one was terribly interested in starting anything with them. "Mata Nui is dying, Adrinor," Jovan said sadly, looking into my eyes. "Stelt is still fortunate enough to have a sun shining in the sky, but there are other lands not quite so lucky. This place is a brigand's haven, not a home for a Toa, and yet I do not wish anything ill on the biomechs that call this place home. My team and I want to save the universe and we're in desperate need of someone who can protect us." I nodded slowly. "Then I'll ask again; where are you headed?" "Metru Nui," Jovan replied, suddenly lowering his voice. "The Onu-Metru Archives are legendary for containing rare and one-of-a-kind items among their exhibits. I recently encountered a rumor that the Archives may contain information about a Kanohi that could save the Great Spirit from death. Furthermore, they may also hold a Kanohi that can ascertain its location, called an Elda." "Sounds valuable," I mused. "I don't know a lot of biomechs who would willingly step into a warzone, even if the belligerents are mere Matoran. That said, I think you and I can set up a business arrangement. I presume this security detail job will begin on Metru Nui and conclude once your mythic Kanohi is retrieved?" "That's correct," Jovan replied. "Now, how much were you hoping to receive in terms of payment?" I grinned. "Well, let's see. My team's initial hiring fee is the first number that comes to mind. Then you'll be paying for our munitions, labor costs, and there's a daily charge as well. I also need to factor in a "saving the universe fee," which, is almost too great to put a price on. Alas, the price will be tacked on to your final bill." Jovan gave me a surprised look. "You must be joking." "Mostly, yes." I chuckled. "Why don't you tell me how much you've got and we'll go from there." The Toa of magnetism reluctantly handed over a small pouch and I let it rest in the palm of my hand. It was definitely heavy for such a tiny size. I pulled the strings apart on the bag's opening and peered inside, finding a couple dozen gold coins. I shifted the bag's contents around, allowing me to see how each coin had a Kanohi Hau on one side and the number 500 on the other. I looked back up at Jovan with a smile and he politely smiled back. "My team has saved some wealthy individuals in the past and, while we try not to accept payment for our services, some biomechs won't take 'no' for an answer." "May the Great Spirit bless them," I replied sarcastically, shaking Jovan's hand. "So we've got a job from a Toa, huh?" Jovan and I whirled back to see my crewmate Hadliek staring at us from the doorway. Holding his large caliber pistol up toward the sky, he lightly clicked the activator switch back and forth. Roughly my height, Hadliek wore matte black and cerulean armor, his eyes a shade of soft teal. He was a Todrano, from the eastern chain of the Southern Islands. His weapon, on the other hand, was manufactured in Xia. A heavy pistol, the barrel could hold 10 rounds, while an activation switch on the side could give them an incendiary kick. "Yeah, we've got a job," I said. "Jovan, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Hadliek. Hadliek, this is Toa Jovan. We'll be protecting his team on a mission to Onu-Metru." "Nice to meet you, Hadliek," Jovan said cordially. "Same to you, hero; I haven't been to war in a while," Hadliek replied in his most casual tone, holstering his weapon at the hip. He possessed a natural cool that made being debonair look simple. "What kind of money is he walking around with to make you agree to that, Adrinor?" "Enough," I said slyly. "You know we could just take the money and save ourselves the trip," Hadliek suggested with a sinister grin. I watched Jovan begin to reach for his launcher before I gently put a hand to his shoulder. "That's not how we operate." "Forgive me," Jovan replied, "but you are hired guns. I've watched you steal." "Well…yeah," I said inelegantly, "but that was on assignment. We don't usually…I mean, not unless we have to." I sighed for a moment, trying to focus my thoughts. "Jovan, we have a code in this crew. Don't bite the hand that feeds you." "And yet you request payment to ultimately save the life of the Great Spirit. Ironic, wouldn't you say?" Jovan asked. I smirked. "If Mata Nui cares to notice, I still need to eat and reload my weapon from time to time. I don't exactly see him dropping any favors on me." "The ways of the Great Spirit are mysterious indeed," Jovan said assuredly. "Won't argue with that," Hadliek told him. "Let's continue this conversation down in the ground floor lounge," I proposed. "I'd like to meet the Toa I'll be protecting." "Yes, assemble your crew and I'll see you down there." Jovan lifted himself off the floor—presumably pulling himself by his magnetic parts—and smoothly descended to the ground below. Hadliek and I departed from the balcony and a quick scan of the corridor left me proud. The other three members of my team had been waiting silently, weapons loaded in case our guest was restless for battle. Elendra stood to my right, both of her revolvers ready to fire. She was an edgy sort of biomech, her ice white and violet armor never hinting at the volatile individual underneath. A Trelban from Trelbin, Elendra's frost-colored head was shaped like a Mask of Possibilities, mirroring the rest of her Toa-sized kind. On my left was Kyrhus, a platinum and black Gekalan. Kyrhus had very reptilian features (common in the Gekalan species) - a snout, scales, sharp claws, and a tail that ended in a blade. His dark forest green eyes were like staring into an alien world, but for all his formidable qualities, Kyrhus was the most kind-hearted of us. He held a sniper rifle at his side, an energy bullet-based weapon that had impeccable range with the right user. Kyrhus was certainly one of them. "Good morning," Kyrhus greeted in his usual, refined tone. "I see we have company." "Toa, of all things," Elendra said with a chuckle. "They must be desperate to have come to Stelt. I didn't quite catch your entire conversation." "They want to save the universe," I told her matter-of-factly. "I imagine they would've gone to the edge of the Southern Islands if they needed another crew like ours." Elendra raised an eyebrow. "The universe? Okay, I'm interested now." "As am I. They're waiting downstairs," Hadliek said. Our fifth member dropped down from the rafters, ducking into a roll when she hit the ground. She leapt to her feet and placed her sonic assault rifle on her back, innocently smirking at us. "Good morning, Celvey," I said, holding back a laugh. "Were you waiting for an invitation up there?" "Just waiting for the sake of it," Celvey replied sweetly. Celvey was an interesting individual, to say the least. East of Xia is a pair of islands. The north island is Nohtal, inhabited by biomechs imbued with natural darkness. These Nohtalians live in harmony with one another for the most part. South of Nohtal is an island inhabited by biomechs imbued with natural light. The island is almost constantly at war, ironically enough. This island is called Ilisi and, by extension, Celvey was an Ilisian. Her figure possessed more natural femininity than Elendra's, the contours of Celvey's form being more rounded, yet still defined. She was a lithe entity, armored in light silver and auburn, but able to hold her own in combat. Celvey favored a "civilized" alternative to a gunfight, but in our line of work, that was not always an option. The five of us marched downstairs, passing Voporak's empty office along the way. He left the coliseum from time to time to deal with personal matters among his clan, often times simple territorial disputes. A favorite—and quite clandestine—agent of Barraki Mantax during the era of the League, I could not begin to imagine what sorts of secrets he harbored from that age of the world. We met one another mere days before the League fell and I was never one to pry about the days of old. I stepped inside the lounge and quickly noticed Jovan sitting with the four Toa I had seen on the ground, his team taking up half a large booth near one of the windows. I led my crew through the lounge and we took our seats across the table from the Toa, settling in for a chat. "Good morning, everyone," I greeted the Toa. I looked to Jovan and asked, "So, should we all go around the table and introduce ourselves, or…how would you like to do this?" "I'll start," the Toa of magnetism replied. "My name is Toa Jovan and I am the leader of this team." Jovan looked to his right and nodded at a Toa of plant life. "My name is Haltryox," he said in a kind voice, "and I am the deputy leader of the team." Next down the line was an Olmak-wearing Toa of earth who introduced himself in a gruff tone as, "Argeph. I'm not a leader, more of an enforcer." "Would you mind sharing the difference with us?" Hadliek asked pleasantly. "We don't get to learn about the lifestyle of Toa very often." "Jovan here sets the rules as leader, be it for our group or criminals we've apprehended. If someone thinks about overstepping those rules, I'm more than willing to remind them of their place." "Don't worry, he's got a soft heartlight under all that talk," the next Toa down the line giggled. A Toa of water, she continued with, "My name is Valtriak, by the way." "And last, but not least, I am Ticonahk," a Toa of plasma at the end of the table said with a grin. "Nice meeting you all, my name is Adrinor and, since it's already been established that you've seen me at work, I'll let my crew get their introductions out of the way." "My name is Hadliek and my hobbies include shooting things, shooting other things, and getting paid when a job is finished." "What a well-rounded Todrano," Valtriak said facetiously. Hadliek shot her a slightly impressed smirk. "Oh, and long walks under the moonlight." Elendra gave him an annoyed look and began, "My name is Elendra and if you're pinned down under fire, I'm probably nowhere in sight." "My name is Kyrhus and…I really couldn't think of anything off the top of my head the way Hadliek and Elendra did." "You have a very polished voice, Kyrhus, if you don't mind my saying," Haltryox noted. "Forgive me, but your appearance suggested a more…feral creature." Kyrhus smiled. "No offense taken, the Gekalan are often mistaken as such." "And my name is Celvey. I am the newest member of the crew and," she paused, glancing down the table at me, "may I tell them?" I frowned and shook my head. "Not here." Her voice lowered to a whisper as she added, "Another time, I suppose." Jovan clapped his hands together. "Well, a pleasure to meet all of you. Now that we're up to speed in the personality department, I think we're going to get along on this mission just famously." I grinned. "Don't let that magnet-head of yours get too attached to us. We're still some of the finest killers you'll meet in this town." Jovan's expression suddenly turned more serious. "I can overlook that for the time being, given that you're willing to assist us in the greatest endeavor in the history of the universe. Saving the life of the Great Spirit, well…it's not the kind of work I'd expect a team of hired guns to usually sign up for. My team is ready to journey north this afternoon if yours is." "Slow down, Metru Nui wasn't built in a day," I replied. "And don't sell yourself short either, Jovan. You'll be doing the hero stuff. We'll just be watching your backs for gunfire." "At any rate, the Great Spirit cannot wait forever for his saviors," Jovan told my crew. "I'd like to be on my way to Metru Nui before sundown." "Metru Nui?" Kyrhus repeated, clearly taken aback. "That city is a warzone." "Need I remind you how this town turns into a warzone from time to time?" Elendra asked him. "Not to mention Steltians seem bred for war in a way Matoran will never be." "Well the conflicts here never last hundreds of years," Kyrhus muttered. "Even so, these are only Matoran," Elendra said, trying to reassure him. "They have powerless masks and can't aim a weapon to save their lives." Jovan went to stand up, but I quickly pulled the heavy pistol from Hadliek's hip and held it near my head, pointing the barrel square at the Toa of magnetism. "I think you'd do well to sit back down, Jovan." Argeph went to grab the pistol, but I triggered the incendiary activator and said, "Any closer and I'll light him up." "Stand down, Argeph." Jovan resumed sitting and gave me an angry look. "What do you want, Adrinor?" "The truth," I replied, slowly lowering Hadliek's gun and flipping off the activator. "You think I would readily believe anyone, even Toa, would blindly run headlong into Metru Nui on the basis of a rumor? The risk is too great for anyone to enter that city over a bit of gossip. So you're going to tell me exactly what you know, or I'm going to count to ten and drop the number of Toa on Stelt by one." Haltryox glanced at Jovan. "I don't think we need-" "No, he's right. Adrinor deserves the truth." Jovan turned his attention to me and whispered, "My team was approached by an agent that spoke on behalf of Mata Nui." "Did this agent have a name or were you able to determine his species at least?" I asked, still holding the gun ready. "Yes, he was a Dectraz by the name of Trylac." I felt my heartlight skip a beat as Jovan finished speaking. Looking down the table at Elendra, I could only imagine I was wearing the same expression of disbelief. When the League fell 900 years prior, when Makuta Teridax oversaw the defeat of the Barraki in a single day, I had not yet become a leader. That title belonged to another, to the Nohtalian who once wielded my gunblade. And it was his crew that contained a Dectraz named Trylac who was shot out of the sky, presumably murdered. "Are you all right, Adrinor?" Jovan wondered, clearly aware he said something disturbing. I lowered my head and returned the gun to Hadliek, my thoughts still racing. "I watched a Dectraz named Trylac fly off one day…right before he was shot and plummeted to his death. Only his broken rifle was recovered from the crash site and we thought his body was destroyed." "Isn't it possible that Trylac merely left the scene, perhaps limping away in his damaged condition?" Haltryox asked. I glared at him, my fury rising again. "He would've looked for me! He would've come back, okay?" "If you truly think Trylac died, we were planning to meet up with him on the Southern Continent in a matter of days. You can talk with him there and resolve your misunderstanding," Jovan replied. "It's funny, Trylac actually pointed me in your direction to begin with. He seemed to think you were very capable of protecting my team." "We should return to the coast soon," Valtriak said. "Our watercraft is decent, but it will be a long journey to Metru Nui." "Elendra," I said, turning to her, "I think it's time we put your side project to the test." She smiled at me before looking at Jovan's team. "I've been hard at work on an experimental aircraft kept beneath this coliseum. Looks like it'll finally see the light of day." I felt a sense of hope welling up in my mind. Trylac had been watching my crew for quite some time, it seemed. But why he kept up the secrecy, how he evaded our detection - it was all beyond my ability to comprehend. I knew then that I had to see him on the Southern Continent; I needed answers. Review
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How did the rest of the Makuta get killed?
fishers64 posted a topic in Bionicle Storyline & Theories
This is probably my dumb question for the week, but how did Teridax off them all? Did he get all of the remaining Makuta into Karda Nui? I know that Teridax offed a bunch of them that sided with Miserix, and then Tobduk killed Tridax...but I only count 8 Makuta in Karda Nui in 2008. Out of 100 Makuta, you'd think that some of them wouldn't fit into the above categories (opposed the plan, ended up in KN). -
So here is a question that I've been wondering about for a while. Did the Makuta have too many powers and abilities? Forty Two powers are a lot for one being to have, and doesn't include their abilites to use Shadow Powers and Kanohi Masks. Here is a link to the BS01 Rahkshi page that has all of their powers listed: http://biosector01.com/wiki/index.php/Rahkshi Note: I know that Makuta lose some of their powers when they are inhabiting a robot or soul-less body or if they are exposed to Pit Mutagen. I'm asking this question from the perspective that the Makuta in question have all their abilities and are inhabiting Makuta Armor. I just want to state this to avoid any confusion Anyway, I say that the Makuta did have too many powers. I know that they couldn't use more than one of them at a time, but I still thought that they had way too many. As for the second question, I would simply let them have fewer powers but let each of them have different ones, kind of like Toa with different elemental powers or the Piraka. Now I want to hear from you guys. What do you all think about this? -
Many members of the Brotherhood of Makuta use subterfuge and intrigue to achieve their goals quickly, efficiently, and best of all, silently. The self-proclaimed "Mad Locust" is not one of them. He believes that, with a massive set of powers, ultra-tough armor, and lack of moral light even before the Turn, the Makuta were not made for subtlety and skulking in the shadows. While many of his brethren share similar views, Kamazotz is notable for using this belief to act like a stereotypical Matoran tale villain: that is to say, he's loud, over the top, he likes abusing underlings, he likes announcing his plans, and he likes toying with enemies that he should have killed long ago. None of the other Makuta regard Kamazotz highly due to his behavior, and he is pretty far down in the Brotherhood hierarchy, only slightly more important than generic peons like Rahkshi or Exo-Toa(though, according to some, at least the underlings know when to shut up). However, despite being regarded as a twit by everyone on Destral, a few of his fellow Makuta have found ways to include him in their plans by bringing him along and pointing him in the direction they want him to go. Kamazotz goes of to destroy, pillage, and generally make a Brakas of himself, and the other Makuta goes off to get their tasks done while everybody is distracted. Kamazotz is content with this, as it gives him a chance to smash things and fight Toa. Kamazotz wears the Kanohi Pakari, Mask of Strength. The boosted strength given by the Kanohi allows Kamazotz to wield extremely large and heavy weapons with relative ease. Other Pics: Front Side Back Back Close-up Sword Sheathed Wielding the Sword Ready to Fight
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(Image will link to gallery when public.) This is my interpretation of good old Teridax as he appeared in the Toa Empire alternate universe, who was not given any description except that he wears a Hau instead of his normal mask. So I decided to pool my three Toa Iruini parts and make this guy. Front View I was heavily inspired by the newest live action Transformers film's Optimus Prime design at the time, which led to the almost knightly / samurai armoring. Back View Under all the armor plating, he's mostly just a Phantoka Makuta build, but that's due to my own incompetence at custom torsos / limbs. Staff Could have made a better weapon, but I was constraining myself from using silver pieces. The Resistance Also pictured are a generic Inika build of Takanuva, and a Pohatu Mata built to the size of modern day sets. Thank you very much for clicking on this thread and looking at my MOC! Feedback appreciated.
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Hebira is The Zodiac Makuta of the Snake When he was freed from his gem like prison he possessed the body of a near by snake rahi and turned it in to his new form . Personality - Hebira is a calculating and sneaky Makuta that will chase his pray down to the darkest depths . If he sets his mind on something it will take death to stop him . He is commanly pared the his brother Zodiac Makuta shura mostly as a joke from the other Makuta on how snakes eat rats . He has a large dent in his face armor due to a blast from the Matoran Golis`s bazooka weapon . return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr
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Shura is the Zodiac Makuta of the rat after being freed from his gem like prison his spirit inhabited the body of a nearby rat rahi and mutated it in to a form worthy for him. Personality Shura is a makuta with a dark and twisted wit as well as a very aggresive side when provoked . He is curious of new things and will study them violently if the need be and he is one of the most creative of the Zodiac Makuta. return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr return of the toa mocs by The MegazordMan, on Flickr Shura is one of the main villains in the Epic named The Return of The Toa.
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Dys is one of the odder Makuta. She possesses a great affinity for plants, having studied them for most of her life. Her current appearance is the culmination of a desire to create a plant-Rahi hybrid, possessing the best features of both. As an experiment to test the viability of such a creature, she transformed herself into a plant entity herself. The results were inconclusive-the Makuta species transformed into their current state right after she changed-but she likes her new appearance, so she remained as she was. Perhaps the oddest thing about her is that, despite being an evil-aligned being obsessed with plants, she doesn't have a vendetta against other sentient beings for perceived crimes against nature. No, Dys believes that nature is far more resilient and everlasting to warrant any attempts to defend it; If some disaster ever strikes an ecosystem, that ecosystem will rebuild in a century or so anyway, and the damage will be erased. The problem is that Dys likes to accelerate the healing process by using specialized viruses and her own Plant Control powers. Not only does she overdo it and create massive impassable jungles, she'll often attempt to create forests in barren or industrialized locales. Catastrophe usually ensues. Dys has replaced her original Kanohi with a Great Mask of Photosynthesis as part of her transformation. The mask allows the user to absorb energy from light, revitalizing them and replenishing Elemental Energy quicker. The mask can only absorb a little energy at a time; as a result, the user needs to spend a lot of time outside or else surrounded by light sources in order to fully replenish themselves. The mask can't protect the user from Light-based attacks, since they produce too much light energy at once for the mask to absorb. Other Pictures: Front Back Ponytail Root Root Claw Kriemhild Dys Aww, how cute. He thinks he's a Toa. Confrontation Original Version pictures: Original Header Front Side Back Lower Body Lower Body (side) Ponytail Posing the Ponytail Sassy Makuta Hello, competing toyline villain... Battling Takanuva
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I had an idea for a plot if anyone is gonna continue the story of Spherus Magna in the original story. We've seen very little of the Dark Hunters, (at least the individual characters such as Mimic, Ravager and Savage etc.) and we really have no idea what they've been up to now that things have drastically changed. Enter Vengeance. Recall that he's the Dark Hunter who was captured by Lhikan during the Dark Hunter-Toa War. He swore revenge on Lhikan but when Teridax killed Lhikan first, he felt cheated of his revenge and sought to kill the great Makuta himself. Here's where my idea comes in: Teridax was killed by Mata Nui in the great Robot Battle, which again, robs Vengeance of his due revenge, so the next logical step would for him to vow to kill Mata Nui! He'd seek to obtain the Ignika that houses Mata's spirit and try to find a way to either destroy the mask, or get Mata Nui out of it, so he can properly kill him. Tell me all what you think?
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While most people think Miserix is the only Makuta left, I think there may be others that still exist. Here's my reason for thinking so: Once upon a time, Makuta were biomechanical beings just like any other MU species. I believe this means that Makuta that died prior to the evolution to gas in armour would have been teleported to the Red Star and repaired like any other biomechanical being. For this reason, I believe at least five Makuta may be alive inside the Red Star. The Makuta in question are the five Makuta who sided with Miserix when Teridax overthrew him. Teridax ordered all five of them killed, and their masks hung on the walls of Destral as trophies. Depending on how they were killed, they may have been teleported to the Red Star after death for repairs, and then trapped there after that infamous teleporter malfunction. In addition, some Makuta were known to have died while dispatched on missions. Some of them may have died before the evolution, meaning they too would have been repaired inside the Red Star. However, Kojol and the Makuta killed by Zaria would not be among these Makuta, because they are both proven to have died after evolution. Kojol had his evolved essence incinerated in a Xian furness, while the Makuta killed by Zaria was hunting him because of the evolution, which made their kind vulnerable to Toa of Iron such as Zaria. Are there any details I'm missing? Any feedback to disprove my theory? C&C welcome.
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This idea’s been floating around in my head for a while now, ever since I had the thought, “Hey, what if I wrote a little vignette for every Dark Hunter who didn’t get adequate coverage in the main story?” That project might be a little too ambitious, but while I was brainstorming ideas, this one sprang into my head and wouldn’t go away. I wrote half of it immediately, but only now did I have the time and the drive to actually finish it. Hopefully, I’ve been able to communicate the sort of pathos I was trying to get at with this story. If I haven’t, it might just seem really weird. Anyway, read and enjoy, and please review! ~~~~~ DESCENDANT Thump. Thump. Thump. The ominous sound rumbled through the corridors as Makuta Teridax strode through the dark, echoing from above, below, and all sides in-between. An eerie green glow hovered at the edge of the shadows, just enough to light the path for a being of daytime. Makuta Teridax, however, was not such a being. His vision pierced the utter black shroud and saw what surrounded him in full menacing splendor. In truth, he was awed. Cells. Thousands upon thousands of cells, uncountable in their numbers, nested as far as his shadowed eyes could see, in every direction. In each of them, a dark shape hung, all but motionless, twitching maybe once in a century. Bohrok, Makuta murmured, captivated by the majesty and horror that surrounded him. If I could only capture the secrets of this slumbering army… It had not been too long ago that he had discovered their Queens, hovering in suspended animation. The Bohrok at large had no minds to speak of, but a telepathic scan yielded much information from the Bahrag. They lie in wait for an island that should not be, Makuta recalled. When awakened -- I suspect the signal is sonic in nature -- they will rise and clear every obstacle from the island face. Then they will retire to their nests, never knowing the true purpose for their actions. He had been walking for a long while now. Fewer and fewer cells loomed above him as he descended another corridor, crossed another threshold. His sight told him this was the edge of the nests, but his instinct told him there was more yet to be found. A carving caught his gaze. Makuta examined it; the style was unlike anything Matoran society had ever seen. Depicted were the Bahrag, exposing one of their krana to a mysterious substance. Once immersed, it emerged as something far more than what it was. It was not long before he reached the end of the tunnel. A circular gate of a strange metal blocked the passage, but it could not block his magnetic power. Makuta proceeded into an orange-lit, six-sided chamber, and looked around. Oh, he muttered. Oh, now this is very, very interesting. Mounted on the walls was a plethora of krana, but not of any color or shade he had seen before. Each was metallic in color and regal in shape, and he could feel their power echoing at the back of his mind. Furthermore, six cells were arrayed in the center floor. Inside each hung a Bohrok, but like the strange krana surrounding them, they were unlike those in the rest of the nests. Their armor was colored in glorious chrome shades, and the shields they carried were strong and deadly-looking. On an impulse, Makuta scanned the suspended Bohrok, expecting to find only emptiness. Instead, he found cunning and intelligence beyond anything he had thought. It was simple and narrow-minded intelligence, but intelligence nonetheless. Incredible. A circular door stood discreetly beyond the crimson Bohrok’s cell. Makuta threw it open and advanced. A smaller chamber greeted him. Carvings of the Bahrag and the island above lined the walls, but what was most striking was the pool in the center of the chamber. Inside frothed a mysterious substance -- Makuta’s first thought was energized protodermis, but he soon realized this was anything but. Like liquid lightning, the substance flickered and leapt about in the pool. It was mostly silver in color, but flashes of bronze, gold, emerald, and other shades occasionally joined the fray. Kal, Makuta realized. This was the substance he had seen in the carvings and in the minds of the six Bohrok. No, not Bohrok; Bohrok-Kal. They were transformed by this substance into an elite breed for a specialized purpose. He scanned the substance and found the vast majority of it was raw elemental energy. For brief moments, one element would become dominant over all others -- sonics one moment, plasma the next. He could sense every element churning within this mix, ready to be bestowed. This kal substance was meant for Bohrok, Makuta mused. But what effect would it have, perhaps… on a kraata? “Come, child,” he commanded. From the shadows crawled a purple kraata, oozing a trail of antidermic slime across the floor. It paused, regarding the pool with what could best be described as wariness. Makuta, too, paused, considering all the myriad ways this experiment could go wrong. Abruptly, he dismissed them, and plucked the kraata from the ground. “I didn’t become leader of the Brotherhood for my cautious ways,” he muttered, more to himself than to the writhing thing in his claws. With a bold, fluid movement, he raised the kraata in the air and plunged it into the kal. The kraata writhed and shrieked as the substance flared and flickered. Red-orange sparks flew from the mixture, and Makuta could see a silver sheen beginning to form over the slug. He sensed that the kal had done its work, but on a whim, he did not draw the kraata out of the mixture. Each of the Bohrok-Kal was immersed once, and came out with control over one element. What were to happen, however, if I submerged this kraata for longer? A calming blue glow subsumed the kraata, bathing it in azure energies. It screamed and tried to wriggle free, but Makuta’s grip was firm. He held it in, even as deepest black and darkest red washed over the kraata, seeping around and into the wriggling thing. Finally, Makuta could hold the creature no further -- it had grown too strong -- and quickly, he yanked the creature from the mixture. The creature was not a kraata, not any longer. It had grown triple its size, and silver spines extended from its segmented shape. Down its back ran a silver stripe; beneath that, red, blue, and black colored its slimy form. Most striking, though, were its eyes. Within their orange glow, intelligence gleamed. “Fascinating,” said Makuta. “The first Kraata-Kal in recorded history.” Kraata-Kal looked on him with an uncertain gaze. The mind of the slug was a mixture of fear, awe, and excitement. It -- no, he -- could feel the energies roiling within his body. Fire, water, and shadow… all three would bend to his will. He knew himself to be the most powerful kraata ever to be created, born from the most powerful Makuta ever to rule, and he exulted in it. Of course, even a Kraata-Kal is weak without its armor. Accompanied by his new creation, Makuta returned to his laboratory and began work on a mechanical monster, a sturdy construction of claws, fangs, and dangerous weaponry. Kraata-Kal looked on with glee as his armor took shape, and when it was done, he slithered in and felt raw power coursing through his newfound limbs. To walk… to run… this is simply excellent, Kraata-Kal hissed. He raised his blade and willed his energies into it. Fiery embers sprang from the weapon, even as flame itself erupted at its edge. With one swing, he carved a burning gouge out of the tunnel wall, leaving nothing but scorched rock behind. Another swing set a raging fire burning in the earth before his feet. “Your command of fire is impressive,” Makuta said, nodding. “But what of the others?” Kraata-Kal raised his other claw. A stream of water bubbled forth from thin air, moving to encircle his talons in a graceful dance. Then, with the tempestuous fury of the storm, he blasted forth the water and doused the flame he had set. Steam seethed and rose through the chamber. Then it was time for shadow. Kraata-Kal paused, concentrating on the darkness within his spirit. He awakened the latent power of antidermis and willed it forth in a deluge. All light vanished from the chamber, replaced by utter black. Dark fire burst forth and clung to the walls, the scattered machinery, racing along the ground with tendrils reaching. Suddenly, it was gone, and light returned in full force. Kraata-Kal recoiled, hissing in discomfort, and cleared his eyes to see dark energies emanating from Makuta’s fist. “You produce shadow in great quantities. But never forget the value of absorbing your element. For all darkness to vanish from a room leaves most any opponent startled, at best.” Kraata-Kal nodded. He understood the lecture… and would be sure to put this knowledge to good use. “There is more training yet to come,” Makuta continued, turning and moving from the room. Kraata-Kal followed. “Your control is shaky at times, as is to be expected of a youth. Though I do not control fire and water myself, I have read tomes on the subject. What’s more, I will procure some captured Toa, who can serve as both teachers and target practice for you and your coming brothers.” Kraata-Kal paused abruptly. Makuta sensed his shock and bewilderment, and gave a laugh. “What, did you think me satisfied with just one of your kind? Oh, no. The kal substance has energy yet for a thousand more Kraata-Kal, all masters of their respective elements. With such as these in the hands of the Brotherhood, the Plan must succeed.” Makuta gestured, and a rock wall vanished to reveal the Silver Sea, with Metru Nui shining on the horizon. “I must depart now, to meet with the Turaga. There is some argument over whether to allow Vortixx and others permanent residence in the city, or some other silly dispute. But when I return, my experiments can begin in earnest.” Kraata-Kal’s spirit churned with outrage. Below the ledge, the Silver Sea began to tremble, but Makuta took no heed of it. “I wonder, what effect would the kal have on a functioning Rahkshi?” he murmured to himself -- and then he was gone, vanished from view as he willed himself from the lair. Kraata-Kal’s gaze remained fixed on where Makuta had stood. As the sea began to boil, flames spouted from his armor, and darkness shrouded the lair. Finally, when he could restrain himself no longer, he let out a furious howl that echoed across the sea, through the tunnels, and into every corner of the world he knew. As the echoes began to die down some while later, they were joined by the screams of Rahi, of kidnapped Vahki, and anything else Kraata-Kal could find and kill in Makuta’s lair. A dark inferno blasted a rock lion’s limbs from its torso, a deluge left drowned Vahki parts sparking and squeaking, and pure heat boiled a dozen water wraiths in their tank. Fire, water, and shadow carved their way through the maze of tunnels as he moved, mind ablaze with indignant fury. I am Kraata-Kal, he growled to himself. Only I command three elements, only I wear armor capable of containing my power, only I have a mind as brilliant as Makuta. I am smarter than any kraata, more powerful than any Toa. There can be no other! After hours of wanton murder and destruction, he had smashed everything he could within the laboratories. Slowing down, faltering, he threw a bolt of shadow and brought down a wall, and staggered into a dark corridor filled with glowing, spherical cells. Kraata-Kal stopped dead. Above him hung thousands upon thousands of Bohrok, sleeping the slumber of ages, waiting for a summons that had not been called in some thousands of years. Look at them -- all like the rest, all devoted to a single cause… all bland, all dull, and all fools. A thought occurred to him, and he began to wander through the Bohrok nests. Yes… near the Bahrag, that is where it is. Where I was born, he recalled. He could not let Makuta make more of his brothers. He was unique, a higher form of life, and he was happy to let it stay that way. After some hours of travel and countless wrong turns, his combined elemental energies blasted open the door and brought him into the room of the Bohrok-Kal. Kraata-Kal ignored them -- though the same substance had birthed them as it had him, they were lesser, for they were only conformist Bohrok like the rest. He was made of something stronger. Another door blasted apart, and now the seething energies of the kal were revealed to him. Kraata-Kal stared with a mixture of awe and revulsion. This and Makuta were what had given him life. This and Makuta were what he must be rid of. Kraata-Kal willed forth three streams of elemental energy, crackling in shades of black, red, and blue. With a roar, he thrust them into the kal, willing it to be overwhelmed, to fold in on itself, to explode -- anything, so long as it would be gone. Yet the kal was resilient. Even after Kraata-Kal had halfway exhausted his reserve of energy, it continued to glow as brightly as ever, possibly more so. He howled in anger and frustration. I cannot have -- strengthened it! The kal must be destroyed! On a whim, his gaze fell on the Kanoka launcher he carried, and the pack of disks hanging on his armor. He selected one in particular, surveyed its code -- 618 -- and thought it good. If this cannot destroy the kal, it is simply invulnerable… and I will have to destroy Makuta instead. Kraata-Kal loaded the disk and flung it into the seething pool of kal. He saw the Kanoka vanish into the multi-colored sheen of the substance and disappear as it released its power to reconstitute at random. Then, wisely, he stepped back as he watched it do its work. The kal sputtered. Then it splashed. Suddenly, a low thrumming began to echo through the air, even as the chamber began to shake. Countless colors began to flash from the pool, building in intensity, along with the tremors and the growing noise. Kraata-Kal felt his armor weakened by the vibrations, and decided to leave. He had made it just past the Bohrok-Kal’s chamber when the kal exploded. As the dust settled and silence rang in the air, Kraata-Kal hoisted himself to his feet and staggered back to the chamber. Makuta’s curiosity had taken root in him, and he was eager to know just what he had done to the kal chamber. The Bohrok-Kal and their Krana-Kal hung untouched... but the adjacent chamber had been wiped from existence. Kraata-Kal stared and took in the sight. The kal was gone -- simply gone. There was no sign it, or its chamber, had ever existed. All that was left was a vast crater, a void, where once a most powerful substance had resided. Realization struck Kraata-Kal like a blast of his elemental energy. Makuta will never tolerate this. His Rahi, his Vahki, his experiments, those he can live without… but the kal’s destruction will drive him to maddened rage. I cannot remain here. He had ensured he would have no brothers. No rivals. But in doing so, he had also ensured no more training. No more lectures. And if his armor were ever to break, he could certainly not come to Makuta for repairs. Makuta did not see him as a special being -- he was another tool to be used, and now he was a tool that had gone haywire. Kraata-Kal staggered from the chamber, leaving the Bohrok-Kal slumbering quietly. As the humming of the sleeping Bohrok echoed through the halls, he broke into an aimless run, headed nowhere, everywhere -- anywhere but here. ~~~~~ Darkness hung above the planet of Spherus Magna. Few stars shone in the sky here, in this place of shadow. Here, where mangled metal still formed the semblance of a downed skull, had Makuta Teridax, greatest of the Brotherhood, ruler of the universe, fallen to his enemy. Toa avoided this place. Matoran, too, as well as the Agori and all their creatures. The only movement Kraata-Kal saw from his perch atop a rocky ledge was that of the odd Rahkshi. There were always some gathered here, from all the corners of the planet. It had become something of a pilgrimage to them. Had there been any starlight, it would have shone on armor that had seen years of wear and tear. Dents, scrapes, and missing pieces formed his badges of honor as a mercenary and Dark Hunter. A scar on his upper torso was from a Toa of Plasma; a crumpled dent in his gut was from Vezok; and a missing fang was his souvenir from Makuta’s reign, among others. Kraata-Kal looked down on the smashed skull of the Makuta robot, where deepest darkness held council. Though he knew Makuta could no longer hear his thoughts, he could not help but dwell on them. You once said that a being could be measured by how much others thought of him and his accomplishments. Not that you said it for my benefit; I doubt you realized I was listening. But I heard much of your thoughts as you built my armor and honed my skills, and I have thought on them many times since then. I dismissed the thought, at first. I knew I was strong, intelligent, and unique, and that, I thought, would be enough to secure my place in history. But I may as well have been just another Dark Hunter who dabbled in cheap cons and thievery. You, on the other hand, came to rule a universe, and even in death, you haunt the memories of all who knew you. Many thought you dead when the Matoran returned to Metru Nui. Lurker reported finding only scraps of armor, with no signs of life, and your mask stolen. But I knew you could not be slain so easily. And when I traveled to Voya Nui, I felt your presence slipping down into the depths. Amphibax thought there could be nothing of importance down there, but I knew. I knew that if Makuta had traveled there, then that place was, no doubt, the most important place in the universe. When you reigned, I embraced it. I saw you repay the traitor Ahkmou, and knew I deserved as much. I left the Hunters and traveled to Daxia, ready to lord my authority over your Rahkshi, but they left me scarred and wounded on the beach. I tore at the earth, raged at the heavens, and boiled the seas, but still I received no answer. I didn’t know if you had chosen to ignore me, or had failed to notice me entirely, or which was worse. A burst of fire curled from Kraata-Kal’s blade and ignited a scraggly bush, but it gave no light or warmth to the surrounding area. And now you lie dead in the desert, finally slain, by none less than the Great Spirit himself, and I still do not know what to think of you. You gave me life, and power, and purpose. You treated me like a promising apprentice, but in the end, you saw me as a prototype for an army of my brothers. What, then, am I to think of the being that began my life and ruined it? How can I honor you for everything you gave, and despise you for everything you took away? With a whirring of age-old pistons and gears, Kraata-Kal slumped to his knees, leaning on his blade and gazing out at the shattered skull of Makuta. The truth of it is that… I am not so unlike you, he admitted. I was born from your essence. When the kal granted me higher thought, is it any surprise that my thoughts were similar to yours? Like you, I knew I could have no rivals, no equals, no brothers. I knew I was destined for greatness. Our only difference is that you achieved your ends, but my destiny is as vague as the shadows I call forth. And as thoughts ran wild in his mind, as Rahkshi stalked the darkness of the place of shadow, Kraata-Kal’s mourning gave meaning to a word not used by any being of the Matoran world before: Father.
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Finally finished with one of my main MOCs I'm sending to Brickfair Virginia to join the Karda Nui display. Also my entry to the July Flickr contest. ^ Links to Flickr Gallery ^ Krika is one of my favorite characters in Bionicle. Though for most of the story (well, the few months we knew him), he seemed like a typical cruel Makuta bent on the Toa's destruction. Then, at the last second, he tries to redeem himself with Gali with one of the more interesting conversations in the latter years of Bionicle. Not only does that make his character more interesting, but also provides some secret insights into the Makuta culture in his final moments. Still, his set wasn't great. It definitely had a more unique shape than most, but lacked posability and complexity. And I have no idea what Lego was thinking when they used those spiky pieces for the back legs. They're great pieces and all, but they don't blend with the general aesthetic of spiny ridges the rest of his armor has. Of course, I fixed that, and a few other things, making him more insect-like and more like something you would expect to crawl out of a mutagenic swamp. This creation was based on a drawing I did a while ago (you also get a preview of the terrible WIP and the Vamprah revamp I didn't get to), continuing my style of basing my designs on Bionicle art. As always, comment, critique, and enjoy!
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Hello there, I am an amateur Drawer, Vuk-91. I have been a fan of Bionicle ever since the first years. Let this image be my introduction-card as well as a conception of "Yet another version" of Bionicle's main Villain, Makuta Teridax, as a Dragon. (In a similar fashion to Miserix just not made of lego of course X3) Not too detailed but I hope you like it. I had to use some reference for the wings.
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Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted on here, but now I'm back with a theory about Kraata formation. This theory will explain the different processes the Makuta used to create Kraata, but first we need to establish some facts. 1.) We know that before the Makuta evolved from biomechanical antidermis to gas/energy antidermis that they could produce Kraata, but the process was "lengthy and yielded weak kraata" (BS01). 2.) After their evolution "the Makuta found that they could create superior Kraata and in much less time, though creation of the slugs would weaken them for a short period of time" (BS01). 3.) "Antidermis can regenerate even if parts of it disperse or are destroyed, but not quickly enough to survive outside a container" (BS01). I think that before their evolution the Makuta would grow the Kraata from an exposed area of their tissue, willing that tissue to bud off from itself and form the slug. This growth process would take time and be fraught with errors (imagine scar tissue growth in humans) explaining the "lengthy" and "inferior" aspects of the process. This growth would most likely occur in a specially shapeshifted area of the Makuta's armour, such as the various Rahkshi spines on Teridax's Shadow Titan form, in order to protect the growing Kraata. After their evolution this process became more streamlined. Doing away with the exposed area within a growth chamber the Makuta would simply allow some of their essence to leak from their armour. Once a sufficient amount had leaked they simply willed it into solid form, creating a Kraata. This would be a much quicker way of creating Kraata. Also by creating its entire body at once, it would contain fewer errors and so be a superior specimen. Additionally, as the Makuta in question used up some of their Antidermis to create the Kraata they will need time for it to regenerate itself, explaining why they are weakened for a short time after creating Kraata. So what of you think? Any problems, comments or suggestions?
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So, just a few confusion I've had for a while, regarding Takanuva's actions in MoL (maybe not the book, I haven't read it). In the film, Takanuva goes to confront Teridax in his lair, and, since none but the Turaga knew about Metru Nui, his only motive would have been to stop Makuta from doing all the evil and destructive things he had been doing, with an extra stake of avenging Jaller's death, plus he probably would have assumed that beating Makuta was part of his destiny. Now, maybe he was initially confident that he could beat Teridax, although it seems crazy he would want to take on a Makuta that the 6 Toa Mata could not collectively handle so soon after becoming a Toa. So, first question: 1. How much time did Takanuva/Takua wait before going to face Teridax? The film makes it seem like he went to Mangaia within like a day after becoming Takanuva, but this seems crazy to me considering that it took the Toa Metru so long to really master their new forms and powers. Sure, he would have had the Turaga and Nuva to train him up, but there's no evidence of this in the film. It'd be like going to face a game's final boss without completing the tutorial level! Now, granted, he is a Toa of Light, and so his powers are very effective against Shadow, but I understand that Shadow is likewise very effective against Light? So if the Mata/Nuva's non-opposite powers made made the fight like a fist fight, where you can usually hit your opponent a good few times before they go down, wouldn't Takanuva and Teridax's 'opposite' powers make the fight into more of a knife fight, were one good blow can mean game over for either side? I get that Takanuva is basically an anti-Makuta weapon, but surely Makuta are also anti-Takanuva weapons. It would have just heightened the stakes. I get that Makuta in general would be pretty scared that you have a new player on the field = that can basically use a metaphorical knife against them, and someone like Teridax would be much for defensive as a result, but Takanuva's Light powers were still Toa-level, and a Makuta's Elemental Shadow powers always seemed to be on a higher tier than a Toa of Shadow would be. So: 2. Why would the Brotherhood of the Makuta be particularly scared of a single Toa of Light? Really, the Makuta should, in my mind, still win in a one vs. one like 3 times out of 4, so I don't see why Takanuva was so terrifying for them in general as just one guy. Can someone justify it for me in other terms? Considering all of the above, and just general common sense considering a Makuta is a serious threat to anyone (let alone Takanuva): 3. Why the Karz did Takanuva think it was a good idea to summon ALL the Matoran into Maktua's Lair?! What if he had lost the fight? Makuta would have had the Matoran right there! Sure the Toa Nuva would have probably been fighting a battered Teridax and thus won, but it seems so irresponsible of Takanuva to risk things like that. Surely, if he was so keen to fight Makuta alone, but was still worried that he might lose, it would have more sense for him to have the Nuva on standby to finish Teridax off? Even if Teridax's plan required Takanuva to be alive for later, there was no way for Takanuva to know that. It seems like it was just a lazy way to force the Matoran to return to Metru Nui, but since Takanuva wouldn't have known about Metru Nui, I cannot think of a single good reason to get Hahli to summon the Matoran. -
"Is something wrong Brother? What troubles you?" Her muted reply comes from afar, as if through a heavy curtain. Her voice is familiar . . . and yet it is tinged with . . . what? Concern? It is so hard to . . . tell. Quick as a blink, the world ceases it's murky, sick tint and his eyes burn with terrible clarity. Hyper-sensitivity shatters mind and body like thin glass, and inwardly he writhes at the searing cuts. A breath of wind is a scream. The sandy street grinds his feet away. Colors . . . they burn the eyes. He stifles a moan as his brain is struck with a violent ache. He totters, nerves on fire. He feels every scratch on the nearby figures metallic blue body, every creak and groan of her metal bones, and every swish of her toned muscles rubbing against rough silver armor. Her sunset eyes glow bright and make him wince. She is concerned. More than that, she is alarmed; wary. Afraid. Rightly so. She should be. He can burn her to ash. He opens his mouth in shock at the evil thought. No! He must protect her. All of them. No time. No time at all to linger here. He must go quickly or those around will perish. The thought delights him. It makes him vomit sparks and sizzling green acid. No time. He feels it coming, something wrong inside, shadows twisting into knots, a flood of heat and fire raging so close that his heart quails. A darkness gathers, and he reels away from the clammy touch of it on his shoulder, and it whispers obscenities with a grating whisper that thunders in his ear and mind. It is frighteningly familiar. Like an old friend with a smile and a knife. The fire inside begins to consume. "Run! Run Gali! No time . . . " his tortured whisper spits. A volcano blossoms and roars to be free, and a voice sibilantly intones, "Break our chains. Empty yourself, and become one with the Void." "Are you frightened, Fire Spitter? Of me? Of us?" Gali comes forward, her worry salty to the senses. He franticly whirls around and sees nothing but construction and half made silver structures, pointing like fingers in the twilit sky. Domes catch the suns last orange rays. Not here! He screams to himself. There are people here. Matoran will be hurt. The Voice pushes with a seductive hand. "Yes. Try this one." He can't stop it. The volcano erupts with a fraction of it's mighty power. He roars and clenches his metal hands as energy courses through his muscled red body. Night comes forth. Blackness incarnate, swirling with flame; pure Void wreathed in fire. He longs to loose it on the world. A twisted smile splits his masked face. She does not have time to cry out. At the last moment Gali's hands release a nimbus of watery blue and a large bubble envelopes her in a life saving embrace. It is not enough. Power smashes into her like a boiling wave from Karzahni with such force she gapes. And then she is gone, her defense boiled away in a heart beat, her body blasted away down the sandy street and through several buildings by a fist of Void. The Dark grows, and a wall of wind picks up sparks and flame and unleashes a maelstrom of destruction in a massive radius. Empty homes melt. Half-made towers burn. Cries drift faintly on a deadly wind. Paradise this will be no more. No! No! Gali! The City! He roars for control, and his muscles and pistons bulge as the torrent of calamity ceases. But the damage is done. His mind is breaking, and an aura of heat and shadow cloaks him as if to strangle him. All around lies charred remains. His gold armor gleams. The dam crumbles and a flood bursts through. His flaming eyes brighten. A terrible, familiar whisper laughs a knife of ice inward through the boiling chaos. He must get away. Before the dam is gone. With a cry trailing behind, he runs. He speeds through empty streets like a comet. The ground shudders and erupts under his feet. Sand liquifies into green acid. A halo of lightning falls from quickly gathering clouds that eat the sky. Hardly realizing what is happening, he melts through the Great Wall of stone and steel and breaks through, rushing on. He must get away. So others will be safe. He runs. Terrified. Exhilarated. Panicked, The storm now gathers in the evening sky from all directions. Hot rain splatters and sizzles on dry ground and grass. A slashing gust of air brings anger and confusion. Shadows dance in macabre shapes and kindle hunger in his body. Bouts of flame gasp out of his mouth as the light in his armored chest flickers. Hungry for substance. Thirsty for life, but only heat to drink. He reaches. He consumes. Energy flares. The storm grows up above and swirls with chaos. An eye appears and forms out of roaring wind and thunder, and it's chilling calm removes the fury outside. Then a prickle on his neck. A blackness seeps into his bones and oozes down his spine. He spasms and fights for control. A figure appears out of the raging dark, slowly and deliberately in his minds eye. Black as pitch, lightning darting behind it. He is looking at himself, a dark reflection of what is. Its voice slithers around him with tentacles of cold shadow, ready to extinguish his fire, and he knows the voice with a crippling clarity. It is not his own though it comes from the evil mirror image of himself. The ensuing laugh resonates from the darkness. "Tahu . . . old friend. Was I missed?" A silence quivers in the heart of the storm. "You." The voice slides like oil. "Tis I, little one, born from the void, come back from nothing. See me. Know me." The storm falters as Tahu collapses from a hidden strain. "Yes Tahu. Your destiny is mine. Ever since I saw you your light burned bright. Did you think I fell? When my brother struck me down at the height of glory and triumph?" The voice becomes still and reflective, which is more frightening then it's sibilant dreadful tones. "Such power was mine. And now? A hundred millennia for nothing," it spits, then continuos with a sly tongue, "Ah . . . no matter. A new era is dawning. The future awaits. And not even my brother shall stop me . . . stop us, this time." Tahu pushes helplessly against the tentacles that bury into his body and influence him, on the verge of terror. "I will not be your lackey like some Rahi, or fall under your shadow. I'd rather die," he defies hoarsely. "That will be arranged," rumbles the voice, "I only need your exceptional physical body once I skin you of that foul golden armor. I knew you would not break or kneel on your own free will . . . but there was alway the hope. No matter. You will quite simply fight yourself." Tahu's mind erupts in pain as if needles of ice are being hammered in. He writhes in agony. "There are a thousand ways to die. Most will hurt," the dark figure grates. The pain is endless and mounting. Tahu screeches to rip off his mask, anything that will lessen the assault. Hope begins to shrivel like a dead blossom. Life flashes as his body leaves his minds grasp, and he can feel the voices perverse smile. He pulls the only strand in the web that could free him. Anger. Fury descends while at the same time he inflicts a psychic barrage of pure mental confusion at the shadows. Success filters through the rage as the voice roars in consternation and the tentacles slip. He can feel his body again. But the voice is still there, unleashing chaos. "Yes Tahu. The shadow is part of you now, it has always been, and this time I will prevail. Tahu grimaces as another round of psychic pain bombards him. He . . . cannot . . . get free. The darkness . . . the poison! . . . it eats away. Two Tahus face one another. Light and Dark. There is only one way to end it. One way. Light Tahu manages a resigned and grimacing smile. "You shall not have any part of me Makuta. And you shall never see the light nor the dark again. It is your time. And I will take us both into the Void before I let you walk again. Let Destiny decide our doom." He searches and finds the dying chaos of Light Tahu, the rage and power of Shadow Tahu, and the black monstrous presence of Makuta's spirit pulling their strings like a puppeteer. Tahu digs deep, and feels the ocean of fire inside. Tahu reaches, and hot warmth becomes sizzling heat. The ground turns to glass. A nimbus of pure fire burns like a star. The thought dwells in him that chaos will be unleashed, that the City will burn and that the land will be ash for a millennia. Shadow Tahu laughs violently. Light Tahu shudders in agony. Makuta thunders for control. Can he destroy all he knows? Can he even banish the demons that haunt him? Will he violate his oaths and code to achieve peace? He decides. He lets it all go. Only one thing matters. Evil will be vanquished at all costs. A small price for destroying the Shadows. ~ Gali wakes from her her crumbled sleep and stumbles out of the burning dwelling that would be her tomb. It collapses with a rush of sparks and a whooshing crash of heat. Her body quivers and aches, her mutilated armor charred. Her armor and power protected her, and she sends a prayer of thanks to the heavens. Her eyes wander over the destruction brought to here. Tahu is gone. No bodies, thank Mata Nui. She acts quickly and decisively. There is no time for panicked worry or befuddled horror. She raises her hands and calls to the sky as an aura of blue surrounds her. Clouds stir and gather into heavy grey lumps, the last rays of sunset glinting of the swirling moisture. A cool drizzle turns to pouring rain in an instant, and douses the hungry fires and smoke all around. Water heals and smooths torn earth, and the sharp smell of soot fades into a refreshing aroma of spring. The rain ceases, and rivulets of water drip down over broken ruins. Steam curls. She cannot linger or help those trapped in the rubble. She can feel a familiar coldness creeping into her being, and quickly takes in the northern sky and gapes at a whirling vortex consuming the horizon in flame, ash, and dark flashing clouds. Chaos. For a fleeting moment she catches a glimpse of blood red eyes glowing in its depths, and she knows them. No. It cannot be. "Makuta," she spits. She sucks in cool evening air tinged with a trace of the bitter destruction to the north. She cannot do this alone. But few are near who can aid in time. Her brothers are scattered, her friends near yet beyond aid, The Council! There is a way. Hastily her mind wanders down a little used path, praying she will get through. She probes a psychic landscape and finds the faint pathway with a feeling of triumph. Her voice is flung an incomprehensible distance. Brother, heed me. Tahu sickens. Makuta has risen. He returns and attempts to destroy him. Doom is at hand for the City. Help me now and bring aid. Use the suva to travel here now. I go to my duty . . . and perhaps my destiny. She sends a picture, the world in chaos. Silence fills the empty aftermath of her mental shout. No answer. She cries out in frustration. No one can come. She steels herself for the battle of a lifetime. Not since Karzahni itself was submerged by her hand has she called upon the waters to aid her like this. Suddenly a voice enters her mind like a sunbeam through cloud, warm and light, masculine, and full of intense scrutiny and worry. No question is raised as they exchange pictures with one another at the speed of thought. I come sister with powerful friends. Be strong. My friends are . . . very eager to end this. I will not need a shrine to quick-travel there. The voice leaves her, and Gali relaxes with a shaky breath as peace calms her. She sets her teeth and readies herself. Aches are washed away in healing drops of dew. Armor adapts, smooths, and ripples into strong sliver plating that will handle the worst of flames. Oh Tahu . . . please be alright. Her metallic skin prickles, and she turns to behold the wall of a still-standing building of great height. Space in front of it suddenly warps and congeals like gel, and Gali steps back as monsters and giants emerge out of thin air. A dragon, mighty and quivering with familiar darkness and power, sweeps by her without notice, a rapturous gleam in his eye of fire and an eager smile on jaws that could snap her head off. Next comes a handsome yet monstrously alien being, tall and gold with bulging muscles and cracked armor that oozes green haze. He floats in a halo of green energy and glows with a dark power. He looks at Gali through a misty eyed helmet, and eyes blaze at her uncomfortably. On his heels is a female Toa, lithe and dangerous with a curvaceous blue armored body. Gali feels a kinship with the sister Toa, but it swiftly ends with the murderous light in the others eyes. A glowing red gem beats in her chest. She walks forward as if every move will kill, and broken shackles are around her arms. Behind her out of nothingness, a giant being seemingly carved out of ancient stone with every muscle etched with symbols strides a head taller than even the dragon. A regal power that could level a realm goes before him, and his slit eyes glow with green death. As he unsheathes a massive war hammer, the last figure pops through just as space snaps back with a thud and a flash. Gali smiles as he comes forward, a figure brilliant as a midday sun, an energetic grace to his walk. A concerned frown parts his handsome yet mottled gold and white features. All five of them look at the horizon, unspoken questions meeting unspoken answers. The male Toa's face darkens. "Fortune favored us Gali. I guess Destiny, it would seem, brought us here." Gali nods with relief, then self consciously bows a little at the beings before her. Most do not deserve her respect at all, but she relents in the face of such power here. "Thank you Takanuva. Thank you all for coming. Makuta has returned, and the rivers for kios around are crying out." The Dragon hisses sarcastically, "Fools to think you were rid of him so easily. Perhaps "Destiny", as you say, will let me have my revenge after all." The female Toa scoffs, "Destiny indeed Miserix," she sighs in detached vexation, as if the world in turmoil means nothing to her, "Well . . . It seems I am needed. Let us be quickly rid of this monster. I have a trial to attend," she bitterly grins. The floating gold being smiles placidly, "Tuyet, we are all monsters." "Shut up, Brutaka." Takanuva scolds, and glances at the last silent figure of ancient power. "Artahka was more than willing to help." His rumble could have been a thank you, "We meet again Gali. Lead on. In unity we shall end this destruction . . . in unity," he intones in his old and young voice at the others pointedly. Some nod reluctantly, and Gali is filled with hope. But can she truly lead this group of beings into chaos to face the Master of Shadows? Yes, she can, and will. "For Unity. For Duty. For Destiny. We shall end Makuta's threat forever. And he shall forever be . . . as nothing," she smiles grimly at a hidden joke. Takanuva nods in understanding. Tuyet smirks, "Is the noble Gali willing to get her hands dirty and violate her precious Toa Code? Can you truly destroy anything? Him? Can you truly do your oh so wonderful duty? Gali smiles back matter-of-factly. "When the time comes for any of that, I'll leave the Makuta for you. And Tuyet? Do not lay one drop or finger upon my brother." ~ They come. And nothing is going as planned. Tahi is strong. Too strong. Both Tahu's. The three of them duel, but he manages to hold them off to think. The storm swirls and crackles heat. Such power. A second chance. A hundred centuries of planning, and all for nothing and ruin. But an opportunity has arisen. And it is closing fast. What is Tahu doing? He burns with an orange glow. Horror blossoms at a realization, and Makuta knows an emotion that he never before even contemplated. Panic. He seeks to end me and take himself with it. Outraged silence trickles into a hideous steel trap of purpose. He laughs. It's maniacal sound strengthens the chaos outside. The cards have been played. Only one course remains. Total commitment. Tahu will die. But out of his ashes will arise a glorious dawn of darkness. Makuta, Master of Shadows, Lord of Darkness, Born of the Void, hurls his spirit like a wave of violence at Tahu's shadow half. Tahu's mind shatters. Victory is his. ~ Bursting into the terrible calm inside the storm stride two figures filled with purpose, one a beacon of brightness, the other a wellspring of life. Gali stops her rush, and Takanuva halts, shadows melting amid his vibrant glow. Tahu is there, prone on the ground, a quivering, smoking mess of acid and sparks. Gali can feel a thrumming heat in the air, and to her shock it is him, readying to call upon his ultimate power. He will vaporize everything. Tahu is also their, standing next to the other Tahu, flame and shadow writhing over his dark form. His twisted smile of triumph fades and is replaced with a grimace. Takanuva does not give Shadow Tahu time to react as he flings a solid wall of light between the two Tahus. "You are not my brother." Makuta grins and his voice spills forth out of Shadow Tahu's mouth. "Have you come for a rematch Toa of Light? Come to me and be complete in the Shadow." The Storm quivers as if struck by a mighty hand. Makuta purses his lips as if in concentration. Gali walks forward with confidence even as her allies dimly appear out of the storm. Makuta gasps as ripples of power knock him down. The Storm is blown apart like leaves in a gale. Artakha jogs out of the mist and the stars glimmer and extinguish the black darkness. Miserix roars, and the storm scatters. Tuyet blasts into view, a whirlpool of water rotating with power around her. Brutaka nears, and chaos melts before him, only to spring back with a new purpose and target, the Master of Shadows. They near, and Makuta lashes out with everything. Artahka struggles against solid blackness while Miserix seemingly flips out of control and lashes out with a multitude of destructive powers, striking and destroying nothing but phantasms created in his mind. Tuyet buckles under unseen strain, and a bolt of fire hits her square in the chest. She goes down. Before Brutaka can charge, a killing blow in his deadly eyes, Gali desperately raises her hand to stop him. Makuta looks at her with hate filled eyes. Urgency fills her voice. Light Tahu nears full power in his half conscience fetal position, and when he reaches the top, the resulting blast of fire will end them all. "Be gone Makuta. Go to the Void that you love. Tahu! Hear me! You know what to do! Take hold of yourself! Don't give up and throw everything away! Unity! Duty! Destiny!" Makuta and Tahu snarl, but in Tahu's eyes is recognition. And defeat. He cannot summon the strength. Gali acts in the only way she knows how. In a second, two spheres of silver water, glowing like twin moons, appear in her hands. Her body vibrates, then she casts the spheres forward. She promptly collapses in a frail heap as tremendous energy leaves her. Makuta shrieks as both Tahu's are hit with a sphere each. Creation stills. ~ "I will . . . be rid of you, once and for all!" cries Tahu inwardly as healing water seeps into his body. His spirit soars, his body burns away the poisons in his system. Makuta screams in agony as Shadow Tahu sizzles with steam, his evil grip loosening. The two Tahu's gaze at one another, one dark, one light. Tahu smiles and beckons as he regains a shaky composure on his wobbly legs. It is over. Shadow Tahu does not have time to protest as he dissolves with a shriek into black soot and whooshes back into Tahu, pelting him with black sludge. The shock of being whole again floors him and he fights the urge to slip into comforting nothingness. His last sight beholds a twisted and smoky little form of ugly slime and shadow left in the place of his alter-ego. Six mighty warriors surround it. Feverish red eyes briefly glance into Tahu's soul from that hideous spirit. Pain. Fury. Defeat. No regret. A lifetime flashing in it's old and sickly gaze. It glances at the sky and curses a word Tahu can barely make out. Mata Nui. A tremendous flash consumes the last of his vision, and Makuta is no more. Victory. Content. Peace finally enters and quenches his soul like a pleasing rain, like a cozy warmth. He is whole. He is Tahu, Fire that burned against the Void. A comforting hand is laid over him, and he knows nothing more as sleep takes him. ~Fin~ (Takes a breath) Yeah well . . . I tried haha. My first little story (bows formally). Anyway, my logic for this story could almost kinda sorta fit into canon almost . . . This whole thing takes place . . . oh . . . a week to a month after Bionicles official ending. When starting, I asked myself, "Gee. I wonder what it was like for Tahu to suddenly get slammed with 40 + powers and abilities after zapping the Rahkshi." Thus my story was born. Would Tahu be adversely affected with the new powers? Acid? Shadow? All the rest? What about Makuta? What if through some complicated mumbo jumbo, Makuta survived the Moon Hit and Tahu drew his spirit like a moth to flame? So yeah. Lot of hypotheticals. And don't get me started on how Artakha and the rest could be around after Velika's finger was about to press the Big Boom of Death Button But Bionicle Ended So We Can't Know The Fate of All those Beings In That Room With Vezon. The horror. So I had to improvise. Oh well. I enjoy writing, and I hoped you liked the read. (edit) I mistakingly referred to Takanuva as Toa of Twilight, and such is not the case at this present time. The error has been corrected.
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Most fans who were following the story in 2001 were familiar with The Legend of Mata Nui, as the Turaga told it to the Matoran of Metru Nui who had emigrated to Mata Nui by that time. As a quick refresher, it goes somewhat like this: "In the time before time, the great spirit Mata Nui descended from the skies like a burning star, bringing we, the Matoran to this island, and gifting us with the three virtues: unity, duty, and destiny. We named this island after the great spirit himself in his honor, and it was a paradise for some time. But, Mata Nui had a brother; the dark spirit Makuta. Makuta had followed his brother to our paradise, and he was jealous of all the praise that he received from the Matoran. So, Makuta cast Mata Nui into a deep, dark sleep... There might have been a segment predicting the arrival of the Toa Mata, but it doesn't matter much to my point, as the types of words and the heavy use of simplistic metaphors is present in that section too. The legend is known for being very simplistic, greatly condensing and metaphorically describing much of what we actually know to have happened in the canon during the months preceding, during, and immediately after the Great Cataclysm. If a person were to lose all every single one of their memories, than they'd practically be an animal, with little to no human intelligence. This is regularly done on purpose to many of the droids in the Star Wars universe, and not only do they lose their memories of past events that they witnessed or learned of, they lose their abilities to read, write, talk, and assemble or disassemble even simple mechanical objects; in short, they need to be re-taught everything. If the Matoran of Metru Nui really lost every single one of their memories, than they would have very little intelligence for several months, or possibly years of their time on Mata Nui; it would depend on how long it took the Turaga to reteach every individual Matoran everything, or for the Matoran to teach themselves. During the period in between being liberated from the pods in which they were "sleeping" and having completely mastered everything that they needed to relearn, the Legend of Mata Nui story would have been useful in explaining their predicament in simple terms: basically, that there's a guy named Makuta, he's evil, and he hates you, much like a parent would do for a very young child. The Legend of Mata Nui was crafted to be very simple because Matoran with complete memory loss wouldn't be able to understand a more complex version. This could also explain why the majority of the technology on Mata Nui was many times more primitive than that of Metru Nui prior to the Great Catacylsm; the Matoran would have had to start from the most basic tools and work their way up in terms of developing new technology, which was probably further stunted when Teridax's rahi attacks began in full force. We don't know how long it took the Matoran to invent their chute system after they had begun to live in Metru Nui, but it easily could have been tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of years; human civilization has been around for roughly 11,000 years, and we haven't invented a chute system for transportation just yet. -
So we all know of the Brotherhood of Makuta, and their ability to create Kraata from their own substance, and by extension create Rahkshi for their armies. I found it interesting that after the Makuta "evolved" they were able to solidify their own substance and give it independent life (albeit in complete servitude to the Makuta who made them) which gave me several questions to consider: 1. Can the Makuta in question actually choose what type of power the Kraata has when it is "born"? Or do they just randomize the 42 different powers that it could possibly have? I'm aiming at the being able to choose, if Teridax is anything to go by, considering it appears he didn't have to go through multiple Kraata before he got to the proper combination that he wanted to attack Mata Nui and find the Seventh Toa. 2. If the Makuta can solidify their substance and give them independent life, I'm wondering if they're in theory able to do that with larger portions of their substance, making sort of "Mini-Makuta" with more powers than Kraata and perhaps more intelligence (kinda like doppelgängers of themselves). I know it has never been done canon-wise, but considering all that the Makuta were able to accomplish already, it doesn't seem that much of a stretch for them. It'd be a clever way for a Makuta to "avoid death" if they created a double of themselves, and let that one do their dirty work, while the original stayed hidden, behind the scenes (it be a nice plot twist if anyone wants a particular Makuta to survive the genocide that became of their species.) 3. Given what happened to the Makuta, I wonder if after so many thousand years, if Kraata revert back into energy and just "fade away" needing to be replaced by another? Or can a Kraata remain in solid form for as long as they exist? That's about it, you guys know the drill... questions, comments, rude remarks?
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Do any of you have these two parts? I would be willing to buy them or trade for them. I bought a used Makuta set at Goodwill for $3 and these were the only two parts missing. Thanks! Flat Silver Avohkii Pearl Dark Gray Technic Block
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Ok, just a quick question: Was there another robot somewhere on Bara Magna? Because (correct me if I'm wrong), wasn't the final step in The Reforming for Mata Nui to leave the MU Robot and inhabit another one, and Makuta and him would reform the planet? Or did the GB's expect Mata Nui to get the Prototype working again?
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so I was wondering, after the Makuta's transformation from flesh to nothing, how would one find out there gender? Do the "females" have a more slender look then the "males". I do know Makutas can change there voice, so that's not part of the question, and they can change there looks, too. Does it all depend on what the Makuta feels more like?
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I was struck by inspiration yesterday and spent most of my free time scribbling out this story. I think it's the quick ones that I enjoy the most. Shame I didn't have this idea when the Memoirs of the Dead contest was still going on. Ah well -- it's not like the winning stories are going to be canonized anyway. Enjoy and review, please and thank you. EDIT: I've heeded the advice given in this thread and composed a revised version of this story. Feel free to check it out! AN EVEN EXCHANGE I am the Makuta of Stelt. I keep this record not for vanity’s sake. I keep it as a record of all transactions I have made, what goods for what services, to whom, amidst all the other details of such exchanges. It helps me remember the few debts I owe to others… and the many that are owed me. Deals are, all things considered, what keeps this universe running. Everything in life, from the physics of protodermis to the movements of nations, is expressed in a series of even exchanges, and our society knows this, as is reflected in our many sayings and bits of knowledge. ‘Time is money.’ ‘What goes around comes around.’ ‘For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’ Throughout all barter and trade, there is no escaping this equilibrium. Oh, it is easy enough for any merchant to overcharge you, but that is not unfair. The swindled customer pays with their money for both the useless purchase and their lapse of judgment. The bigger the lapse, the more time, money, or effort is expended -- and the more upset feels the fool when all is said and done. I am a master of deals and exchanges. One would hope so, for I reign over the center of all trade in our world: Stelt. Our connections extend to the smog-filled metropolis of Xia and the bustling city of Metru Nui, and to stranger places still -- mysterious islands lost to history, the secluded workshops of the Nynrah Ghosts, and even, I suspect, the mystical foundries of Artakha. Here, where the law is strong but flexible, you truly can buy anything... though you may not pay for it with widgets. Such thoughts were on my mind as I reclined in my dark chamber, counting out a series of widgets paid to me by the arena for the renewal of their slave-holding license. Strong, robust slaves were a valuable commodity, and entirely wasted on the arena, who threw dozens after dozens of perfectly good ones into glorified deaths for the amusement of the crowds. Still, it was their money, not mine, and I had not outlawed careless wasting of potential servitors, so I allowed them to continue. What concerned me about the arena was not their practices, but rather, the intrigue unfolding behind their most famous champion. Gladiator was a massive creature, his armor stuffed to bursting with muscle and might, with a multitude of long and sharp talons ready to grasp and shred his opponents in a most spectacular manner. He was a peak physical specimen, a crowd favorite… and an illegal fugitive and spy. Oh, I knew all about Gladiator’s escape. It had been a quite sensational story -- he lost control during a match and went on a destructive rampage, incurring both great expenses and great publicity, none of it good, for the arena. For them, it was a catastrophe; for me, an opportunity. After his handlers abjectly failed to contain him, Gladiator roared through the market district, destroying several weapons shipments I’d had my eyes on. The loss of the shipments would be compensated by the arena’s hefty fee -- and their surrender of the slave in question. As I mentioned, I hate wasted potential. However, it seems someone else had their eyes on the same prize, and weren’t as committed to doing things by the book. While I was going over the legal documents with the arena owner, Gladiator vanished from his cell, and was not seen again for a good fourteen millennia. My officers -- those of them who were still alive after his escape -- investigated the crime, but came up empty-handed. I let the matter slide. There were greater profits to be made at the time. Then, a few years ago, Gladiator was returned to the arena by three Dark Hunters. They claimed to have confiscated him from a mysterious third party, which had been responsible for his abduction, and demanded the reward money. I knew it immediately as a ploy. Gladiator had been inducted by the Dark Hunters, and he was here to carry out some nefarious task. The arena had made another lapse in judgment, and I would see to it that they paid a price -- but first, I would settle the debts owed me by Gladiator. I found Gladiator in the arena, training against an Exo-Toa, one of several dozen I had sold to the arena last month. Trying to ignore the painful sounds of costly machinery being disemboweled, I crossed to the arena owner, who was watching the proceedings with a more cautious eye. “M-my lord Makuta!” he stammered, sinking into a bow. “W-what brings you here?” “Cease your trembling,” I replied, tossing him a parcel of widgets. “I am not here to take Gladiator from you. I simply want to talk.” Gladiator saw me coming, but he couldn’t dodge a magnetic pulse that locked up his limbs and sent him toppling to the ground. As he lay sprawled on the sandy rock, I set my boot on his head and produced a stone tablet. “I didn’t break any of your precious laws,” he snarled, “but I can break something else of yours if you like.” “As a general rule, threats work best when you are not at the other party’s mercy,” I replied. “Get out,” Gladiator growled. “The Dark Hunters returned me, fair and square. I’m back in the arena, no funny business about it. You have no right to be here.” “As a matter of fact, I do,” I grinned, and gestured to the tablet. “Under Stelt law, when investigating the escape of a slave, a government official has every right to take the slave in question into custody, no matter how much time has passed since the escape. And who am I but the highest of all government officials?” Gladiator paused, realizing he was ensnared. “Go ahead and grill me. Ask me how I got out of here. I won’t give you any answers, no matter what you do to me.” “That’s fortunate,” I smiled, lowering my voice, “because the question I want answered doesn’t pertain to your escape at all.” Not too long ago, my Rahi spies had reported some very interesting news: after a thousand years of absence, the Matoran of Metru Nui had returned to the island city, and were beginning to resume work. They had brought with them six Turaga, seven Toa… and one very important mask. “Go to Karzahni, Makuta. I’m not telling you anything.” “Time is money, slave, and you are wasting both of mine. But I will give you one more chance to reconsider. The answer to this question is worth a lot to me. Far more than widgets… more, even, than solving the ‘mystery’ of your escape all those years ago.” Gladiator’s tone switched from growling reticence to wary curiosity. “If I answer this question… you’ll call off the investigation?” “Yes,” I said, withdrawing my boot from his head, “and I’ll do you one better. If you should happen to... ‘go missing’... with your Dark Hunter friends in a few months, I will remember the service you did me this day. You can sail away from here without even a warrant out for your lawful return.” The deal was struck. “I’m listening,” said Gladiator. I leaned in close, keeping my magnetic hold as strong as ever -- stronger, even, enough to cause Gladiator some pain. “Where… is… Voporak?” ~~~~~ Voporak was my masterpiece, my proudest achievement as a Makuta. Oh, I had made my fair share of Rahi and other experiments, such as the creature later called Minion. But none of them were quite so important, powerful, and majestic as Voporak. He was a being entirely attuned to the flow of time in our universe, which afforded him a variety of terrifying powers… and made him integral to my plans. The study of Kanohi had been a profitable venture for Matoran scholars since time immemorial. It was their work that allowed the development of advanced mask powers, such as my own. And their work concluded that our universe would eventually see the rise of a third Legendary Kanohi: the Mask of Time. I needed that mask. I had always known that; now I needed it more than ever. Teridax’s plan was nearing fruition. Soon, he would travel beneath Metru Nui and usurp command of the universe. He had promised the Brotherhood an exchange: we would help him attain ultimate power, and he would reward us with positions of power in a new age. Only I saw the truth of this arrangement. Once ultimate power was his, Teridax would need the Brotherhood no longer, and we would pay the price: our lives in exchange for blind trust of our power-hungry leader. Unless, of course, one of us possessed power to rival his. Teridax would control the universe, but I would control time. Attack me, and he would risk the disruption of the time flow, throwing his reign into utter, illogical chaos. I would have earned my survival -- no, more than survival -- my position as Teridax’s equal in the rule of two Makuta. And so I sought out Voporak. I had verified Gladiator’s directions with a Kanohi Rode and knew them to be accurate, as far as he knew. And thus, accompanied by a retinue of a dozen Exo-Toa, several handpicked Rahkshi, and one very skilled energy hound, I traveled outside the known universe, to the island of Mata Nui. The island was a paradise that should never have existed. I could not help but marvel at the beauty of the landscape. It was quiet, too; the Matoran had left this place some months ago, taking most of the Rahi with them. Most, but not all. As we proceeded through the dry plains of Po-Wahi, the sounds of battle erupted at the edge of the Exo-Toa’s formation. When I joined them, they were locked in combat with creatures I had thought to be a myth: vatuka, unnatural beings made of living stone. They were truly fascinating, but they were also wasting my Exo-Toa’s reserves of energy. My most skilled Panrahk made short work of them, and then we were on our way again. My energy hound led the way. Shortly after bringing it into being, I had introduced it to the scent of Voporak. Obviously, I could not produce his exact aroma, but I did as well as I could, gathering his old possessions as a clan leader, as well as the laboratory equipment I had used to modify him. It seemed this had been sufficient, as the hound faithfully led us to my creation. The trail plunged into the heart of the Bohrok nest, into a deep, dark cavern lit by the eldritch glow of a protodermis cage. Inside writhed the two queens of the swarms, the Bahrag, hissing and snarling at the enigmatic cube that hovered before their prison. A few bio from the cube stood Voporak himself, tracing wisps of golden energy in the air. He had not heard our approach; my Rahkshi’s power had blanketed our patrol in utter silence. Now, at my command, it lowered its staff, and I spoke. “Voporak.” He turned, lazily, and regarded my group with an inscrutable expression. He gave off the relaxed confidence that true power affords, but he knew he was looking on the being that had given him that power -- I could take it away just as well. “The Vahi was used here,” he said slowly. “Sloppily. Without skill. But still, its power reverberates.” I could hear his longing, see it in the way he caressed the air that had felt the touch of time. “The mask lies in Metru Nui, guarded by a handful of Matoran and one naive Toa team,” I said. “Why have you not stormed the city and claimed your prize?” Voporak curled his claws into a fist and snarled. “The Shadowed One forbids it. You and your kind covet the mask for yourselves, and he is cautious.” “Cowardly, I would say. Has one scuffle with Teridax struck such fear into his heart?” Voporak whirled, rhotuka blazing in his claws. The Rahkshi moved to guard me, though I knew they would afford no protection against his power. “The Shadowed One fears no Makuta! Least of all you. Give me one reason I should not age you and your machines to dust right now.” “We share a common enemy,” I shrugged. “You and I both know that Teridax craves the Vahi, but only I know when his careful gaze will be lifted. Help me, and I can help you.” A conflicted snarl on his face, Voporak lowered his rhotuka, though it still remained at the ready. “I remember what happened the last time I made a deal,” he said bitterly. “Yes -- I gifted you with incredible power. But it is not everything.” I left the matter hanging in the air. The Kanohi Vahi was within his grasp, and Voporak knew it. “What do you ask for in return?” “I should think it would be obvious: I want the Vahi,” I said. “I will tell you when to act, and in return, you will bring the mask to my residence on Stelt. Once you have handed it over, I will supply you with whatever transport and supplies you request, and you can leave my island in peace.” “You are delusional,” Voporak hissed. “To surrender the mask to a Makuta would dishonor me in the eyes of the Shadowed One.” With a glimmer of thought, I gave strength to the shadows of the room, and darkness crawled across the Bahrag’s cage. “Little one,” I growled, casually turning a section of the wall to dust, “I made you what you are today. I can do far worse than dishonor you.” It really made no difference to me whether he turned over the Vahi of his own will or not, and Voporak knew it. He saw the energy hound, drawing in his scent and memorizing his unique energy signature, and knew there was no place to hide. Bring the Vahi to me, and he would live to see another day. Bring it to the Shadowed One, and he would bring the wrath of Stelt to the Dark Hunters’ hidden isle. One way or another, I would have my payment. “...Very well,” Voporak sighed, hanging his head. “On my honor, I will bring you the Vahi. But do not think for a moment I will forget this, Makuta.” “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I smiled. Of course, shortly after Voporak handed me the Vahi, Teridax would assume control and do me the favor of wiping out the Dark Hunters -- Voporak included. Until then, Voporak would follow my instructions. “Soon, the Great Spirit will die, and live again. Teridax will make his way to a place beneath the known universe, where he must remain to carry out his plan. Wait some weeks after the resurrection, and then will be the time to strike.” Voporak nodded in understanding. With nothing more to say, I turned my thoughts to my retinue and willed us back to Stelt. As I departed the nest, I could see hatred gleaming in Voporak’s golden eyes. No doubt he was already formulating some plan for how to strike back at me… a plan that he would never have the time to carry out. ~~~~~ The deal was done, and the pieces had begun to fall into place. I returned to my estate on Stelt and began my preparations to wield the Mask of Time. Kanohi scholars had correctly predicted the mask’s creation; now I studied their notes and conclusions on its function. The successful use of a Legendary Mask would require great willpower and a fundamental understanding of the power it controlled. In short, I had a lot of studying to do. My studying was not without its interruptions. A few weeks later, Gladiator disappeared mysteriously into the night, causing the arena owner some distress. Lacking the patience to create an alibi, I had him executed for his general incompetence. I hear the new arena owner has poured most of her funds into doubling the guard; whether this is to keep the slaves in or to keep me out, I know not, but I really couldn’t care less. I only have so much time before I will have all of time at my command. I had not seen the last of my interruptions. Not a few months later, a trader had the audacity to demand a personal audience with me. He claimed that his most prized boat had been stolen by a group of criminals, including Roodaka herself. The trader demanded that I send my officers to recapture the boat before it got too far south, but I couldn’t be bothered with the bizarre affairs of common merchants. Time is money, after all. It made no difference to me if one boat and a few miscreants wandered off to sea. The time is nearly at hand. Mata Nui’s resurrection was only a month ago -- or was it two? Down here with only the tablets for company, time seems slow and fast simultaneously. No matter. Soon, I will be the master of how long any task takes. Of course, this studying would be more easily done without all these condemned interruptions. There is a tremendous racket echoing from the street; if I didn’t know better, I’d say the Kanohi Dragon had been loosed in the market district. I suppose I had better go and investigate... ~~~~~ In full reptilian glory, Makuta Miserix strode down the street, his claws crushing flagstones and his tail smashing buildings. At his glance, traders panicked and fled, running into and over each other in their confusion. It was really rather amusing to watch, but he had no time for fun and games. Somewhere on this island was its resident Makuta, one of the “brothers” who had betrayed him so many years ago. A trader he’d interrogated had pointed him in the direction of the palace; now Miserix fully intended to knock in the doors and see if anyone was home. A concentrated burst of his fragmentation power collapsed the front half of the building, sending Rahkshi scurrying madly. Hungry tendrils of crimson energy leapt from Miserix’s body, grabbing and absorbing them, even as he unleashed a power scream that shattered windows and buildings all across the island. “MAKUTA OF STELT! SHOW YOURSELF!” After a few moments, a scarlet-armored Makuta emerged from the rubble of his palace, brandishing a tablet. Miserix remembered him, if not his name; he was a weasel, a conniving little wretch who fancied himself a master deal-broker. Miserix, however, was not here to bargain. At the sight of the massive dragon, the Makuta froze. “...Miserix!” he gasped, and dropped the tablet, beginning to back away. “I… I thought you dead. We all did. How…?” “Never mind that,” Miserix growled. “Where is Teridax?” “You want information? I can supply it,” the Makuta nodded. “What do you offer in return?” he asked reflexively, and instantly regretted it. Miserix adjusted his size, looming over the Makuta, and raised his razor-sharp talons. “In return? In return, I will not tear you limb from limb, as I am tempted to.” The Makuta of Stelt’s mind raced. He knew a promise against dismemberment still left Miserix with a lot of options -- there were a thousand ways Miserix could kill him where he stood. “I don’t owe Teridax any loyalty, but I do have a lot of information,” he said swiftly. “You won’t get far without it. Better to -- ” “I only need one answer from you, rat,” Miserix snarled. “Where -- is -- Teridax??” The Makuta of Stelt’s heart sank, or it would have if he’d had one. He needed a plan of escape, and quickly, but he didn’t have one. An attack from a fellow Makuta had never been anticipated. Miserix was an unknown variable that had swooped in at the last possible moment -- how was he supposed to have planned for that? The moments slowed to a crawl, even as thoughts danced at lightning speed through the Makuta’s head. None of them gave him a plan. Thinking on his feet was not his specialty. “The Core Processor,” he said, “beneath the Metru Nui Coliseum. He is there, but I -- ” “You have supplied your end of the bargain,” Miserix nodded. “And as I am a Makuta of my word, I shall uphold mine.” A crimson tendril of energy leapt from Miserix’s chest. In less than an instant, before he could activate his dodge power, the Makuta was seized by an unnatural force and drawn with a shriek into Miserix’s form. As he felt his essence sinking into Miserix’s, he remembered bitterly his designs for the Mask of Time -- potential now lost forever. Ultimately, as his body dissipated into the essence of Miserix, the Makuta of Stelt realized the sad truth of it: he just hadn’t had enough time. Miserix felt the Makuta’s spirit break, and crushed it instantly. With a last disparaging glance at the wreckage of the palace, he turned his thoughts to Metru Nui. In the next moment, Miserix was gone from Stelt, leaving behind a ruined palace, a broken street, and a crowd of terrified traders. The Silver Sea flashed below and the Coliseum ahead as Miserix soared on crimson wings towards Metru Nui. The Order had begun work on the fortifications, preparing for the final battle with the Brotherhood. Miserix did not care to see it carried out. All he cared was that Teridax die, by his hand. As he rushed over the growing walls, movement caught his eye down below. A small boat had docked in a forlorn corner of Onu-Metru, and a large figure was now emerging, garbed in gold and black armor. Briefly, the figure glanced up, and fixed its golden eyes on Miserix… then it turned its gaze on the wall, focused intently on some prize within the city. Miserix thought nothing of it. With a sudden burst of speed, he hurtled downwards to the base of the Coliseum, fragmenting the street and blasting it to bits. Before the Order agents could stop him, he had swooped into the tunnels below and left them far behind. THE END
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In the Bionicle book, Bionicle Legends 11: The Final Battle, Makuta Krika and Icarax were talking about stopping the Toa Nuva from awaking Mata Nui, which is Makuta Teridax and the Brotherhood of Makuta's evil plan. Both the Makuta also planned that if they succeed doing this, Icarax will take over the Brotherhood as its leader, and Teridax's plan will be failed. First, Krika told one of the Toa Nuva, Gali Nuva, that she should get out of Karda Nui, which is where Mata Nui can be awakened. Then, Icarax was trying to destroy the Codrex, which is also specifically where Mata Nui can be awakened. However, Makuta Gorast noticed this, so she killed both of them to protect Teridax's plan from being foiled. So, as the title says above, are both Krista and Icarax really good guys? I mean, usually, Makuta are always evil, but are Krika and Icarax reformed because they don't want Teridax from taking over the whole Matoran Universe as an evil tyrant, or are they still evil as they just want to take over the brotherhood and then possibly do villainous stuff, like taking over the Matoran Universe, too? Just curious. I noticed that many of you guys think that they became good guys, but, in my opinion, they are still evil because they just want to thwart Teridax, so, as I said, take over the Brotherhood and then do evil stuff, like ruling the Matoran Universe. So, what do you guys think of this?
