Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'Fruitful'.
Found 1 result
-
He was warm, so very warm...Rivulets of sweat poured down his arm-or was it his leg? He couldn't tell anymore. No, not in the whiteness-not in the pain that would not stop. Like the tides it came, slowly but surely every day. He remembered the tides, as he remembered the dark. He remembered that sweet musk that permeated the air, and how the Turaga would touch the flame and invoke its spirit, making it shine with a light that dispelled fear, dancing with the ripples of countless colours. Now the pain and the warmth were the only things left...Warmth...He chuckled to himself. Warmth couldn't begin to describe the searing sensation he felt every moment, the agony that burned with a fierce passion, the countless fires worming their way through his veins. He wished he had someone else to see, someone to share the pain and the whiteness with.Wait-there were others. They-it was so hard to remember...they fought the Shadow. He could remember the Shadow, he who took the form of Matoran, he of the endless destruction.Destruction...?Cleansing...The warmth ebbed away, leaving a dark void-but the pain remained, flooding his body, overtaking his mind. In the darkness shapes formed, swirling around him, piercing his flesh and morphing into grotesque shapes. The Hive beckoned...The Bohrok looked down at the incapacitated Matoran struggling with the Krana attached to it. The job was completed satisfactorily. The cleaning of the sector could continue. Waving its shield-plates at the others, it signaled for the new recruit to be moved to the other Joiners. Soon, murmured the Hive, soon the cleansing would be complete. Soon, oh so soon, Function would be fulfilled. Clicking in unison, the Bohrok raised their shield-plates to the sky, stamping as a hum filled the air. Each one communicated its pleasure to the others as the group silently chanted: Fulfill the Function! Obey the Purpose! Clean all!The Matoran looked up at this gathering, consciousness flickering back, yet still repressed by the Hive's control. It was somehow amusing to see Bohrok behaving like this, like so many spectators at a Kohlii game. Maybe they weren't as foreign as they seemed... As he marched with the others, he thought-and as he thought, he kept reaching the same conclusion. The Bohrok society was not so different from that of his own-perhaps it was even better.Time passed, and the lone Matoran labored side by side with the Bohrok, working and observing. As he watched, his mind fell into the patterns his Krana provided him-the presence of the Hive in his psyche a constant comfort. Every day that passed seemed to reinforce his belief in the advantages of a central mind, and each day he remembered less... It didn't matter, though-the Matoran he once was could only be flawed, broken-he could see that now. All he needed was the Hive...all anyone needed was the Hive. The Hive was almighty-the Hive would show them the Purpose. Acceptance would free everyone-the Turaga and Toa were fools. How did the island even survive under the protection of those doddering leaders? Why, even now, the Turaga wouldn't even tell them where they came from, or how they knew of Mata Nui. This would never happen if the island embraced the Hive...embraced it as he did. For the Hive was the answer to all problems, the fruitful solution. It was...beautiful...it was...everythingIt was...gorgeous destruction...
