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Prologue: The Hauntings There were peaceful moments in living on Mata Nui. There were times where the Matoran would sit around the fires, or wander the beaches, marvelling about the paradise they were so thankful to live in. But for as much as the Turaga made the island— named in honor of the Great Spirit himself— out to be a paradise, there were times when the place was a living nightmare. The Makuta terrorized the Matoran of Mata Nui for a thousand years. He created infected masks to control the Rahi, turning relatively docile creatures into fearsome beasts. He sent out the signals to awaken the Bohrok swarms, trying to destroy the lands the Matoran called home. He created diseases and plagues to weaken the peoples whom would not bow to his rule. He even at times took control of the island itself, to show the might of his powers. The Makuta operated from the deepest of the shadows, using his extreme tactics to keep the Matoran in their villages, around their campfires, and as far away from Metru Nui as possible. Not only were there threats from the Makuta. There were other things lurking in the shadows that did not come from him. As domineering and sinister Makuta was, there were things that were not of his origin. Many of the threats the Matoran encountered bore the signature style of the master of shadows; However, there were eerie occurrences—few and far between— the Matoran encountered, deep within their Wahi, which were from some other origin entirely. Other events the Makuta could have not possibly have had a hand in. Terrors and odd happenings that the Turaga, despite all their secret keeping, could not hide that they had no explanation for. Makuta was responsible for many things on Mata Nui which would live in the nightmares of the Matoran for the rest of their days. But there were other unsettling things that happened on the island that haunted them even more. Review
A tall, thin Toa of Water with jagged armor pitted and scarred from a thousand battles walked through the stark white halls, her feet clicking upon the floor with every step that she took. Every so often she would pass by gaps - entrances blocked by shimmering barriers of otherwise invisible energy impervious to harm. There were no signs, no directions; anyone who was supposed to be there knew how to get where they needed to be, and those that did not belong (on the rare occasion that it occurred) would be quickly dealt with. She did not slow her pace as the hallway narrowed and various scanners extended from the walls and the ceiling. They scanned over her mind, her mask, her eyes, her weapons, her posture, everything. Double, triple, quadruple checking every single little piece of her, verifying her identity. At the far end of the hallway, the only doorway inside the narrow section flashed green before the field blocking access to it vanished; behind her, a new field shimmered into place, blocking anyone else from following (not that any would have dared to do so). “Give me a status update,” she ordered, striding into the room. “No… you give one to me.” The Toa of Water paused, her head turning to the side as her gaze narrowed on the Matoran of Shadow who had spoken. The bonds that had been holding him to the operating table (one of many present in the room, most of them filled) were gone, torn to shreds. Both of the operatives that she had assigned to look over the bodies were slumped against each other on the floor, blood oozing out of their necks. “You play a dangerous game, Shadowhawk, and you play it callously,” she warned, stepping closer. “I do not take the deaths of my operatives likely.” “Yeah?” the Shadow Matoran responded, his voice a guttural snarl. “Well I don’t take kindly to being some idiot Toa’s lab experiment. So we’re even. Who the Karz are you?” “Do you truly wish to know?” she asked, her head tilting to the side as she stared at the Matoran. “For if I tell you… you shall be sworn to secrecy, or else killed.” Shadowhawk barked out a harsh laugh. “You can try, lady. Nobody seems to be having much luck.” “I have my methods.” He shrugged, tapping the blade of a knife strapped to his thigh - it shifted, glinting in the light. Her eyes hardened into a glare. “I am Helryx, the oldest Toa in the universe,” she said. “I lead an organization - the Order of Mata-Nui. We operate deep within the shadows - so deeply that none outside of our organization except White One have learned of our true nature.” “True nature? What a bunch of baloney,” Shadowhawk muttered. “You’re just like Control - thinking you’re oh-so-special with all of your fancy gadgets.” In the blink of an eye, Helryx lunged forward; she easily disarmed the Shadow Matoran, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him up against the wall. He struggled in her grip for a second before relaxing - whether due to resignation or some other sinister plan, the Toa could not tell (not that it mattered). “Let me make one thing clear, Matoran,” she whispered, her voice cold and as sharp as a blade’s edge. “We are far more dangerous than Control. They were weak, sloppy, and short-minded.” “Oh yeah?” Shadowhawk croaked. “Well they seemed to know… what was going on… in Metru-Nui. But… you don’t.” “We know enough,” she said. Helryx tossed the Shadow Matoran aside; he bounced across the floor before slamming into the wall and sliding back down. He remained in that position as he spoke again, sounding both exhausted and furious. “What do you want from me?” “A service,” she said, turning to face him. “No,” he spat. “Kill me now, Toa, before I do it myself - I’m done doing jobs. Everything I had… everything I built… I’ve lost it all. Those Matoran…” He trailed off, raising a shaking hand and pointing at the corpse of a Ta-Matoran sprawled across the operating table nearest to him - JiMing. There was undisguised hatred in the Shadow Matoran’s eyes. “...they took everything from me. And it didn’t matter what I did, or who I turned to, they always. WON!” He slammed his fist into the floor for emphasis; a loud crack was heard as both his wrist and the floor fractured from the impact, but Shadowhawk ignored it as he shoved himself to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes as he stalked over to stand beside JiMing, staring at Helryx. “You are angry,” she said, speaking calmly. “I am merely suggesting that you focus it.” “On what?!” he snarled. “Thirty Matoran escaped the Coliseum,” she said, gesturing towards JiMing. “All of them allies with him. Working for the Matoran you all call ‘Voltex’, although he is an enigma we shall discuss later. They have travelled far away, through dimensions - I want you to hunt them down.” “And kill them,” he said, starting to calm down. “Do whatever it takes,” she said. “I want some of them - any of them - brought back alive for questioning. But it is your mission, should you choose to accept it.” “Then I accept,” the Shadow Matoran whispered. “I’ll hunt them all.” Helryx allowed a small smile to appear on her face. “Good,” she said. “Then come with me… and let’s get started.” The pieces were slowly falling into place. It was time for the endgame to begin. WELCOME TO THE DISTORTION ANTHOLOGY. New Releases Every Week. REVIEW TOPIC
The Distortion Anthology is a collection of stories set in the Uprising universe by multiple authors. THE AUTHORS - Voltex - Blade - fishers64 - Xaeraz - Sumiki - Pahrak - - Quisoves - Ehks - Burnmad - Jed - Daronus - INSTALLMENTS Voltex - Prologue --- FURTHER READING If you're interested in the Uprising universe as a whole, consider reading the original trilogy: Isolation - The short and sweet first epic that started it all. Extraction - The middle child of the trilogy, that greatly expands upon the history of the world. I only recommend reading this if you are looking to complete the entire trilogy. Extermination - The standalone grand finale; it can be read on its own or after reading the other two. --- NEW INSTALLMENTS IN DISTORTION RELEASED WEEKLY. Whose writings will be released next week?
Welcome to Warnings. This is an ongoing anthology of short tales I have written as warnings for various life issues that you may or may not come across. Read on, as the first tale is about to begin. Story 1: The Orphan and the Widow A long time ago, in the time of lanterns and new ideas, there lived a little orphan boy. The boy was homeless, and avoided orphanages. He lived on the streets, begging and stealing to survive. One day, he overheard one of the many travelers walking in the streets talk about a city where there was work and shelter aplenty, and many shops in need of apprentices. The orphan was delighted to hear of such a place, where he could start a new life. However, the city in question was a very long ways away, and the only way to get there was by train. So, the boy tried to beg for the money he could to buy a train ticket, but was ignored by everybody, and when he tried to steal money, he was promptly noticed and driven away. After a week of trying, he was about to give up, and started to cry. Out of nowhere, a middle-aged woman walked up to him and asked him what was wrong. He explained his problems, and the woman decided to give him the money he needed. The orphan thanked her profusely for her kindness, and went to get his ticket. Years later, the orphan had grown into a highly successful businessman, having taken over the bank he had apprenticed in. Very rich, he had become full of pride and had a very large ego. One morning, he was out for a walk and came across an old widow, begging for money or food. By chance, this widow was the very same woman who had been so kind to him all those years ago. Once her husband had died, she was left with no source of income, and her children all lived very far away. Not recognizing the woman, the orphan-turned-businessman simply scoffed at her, called her a stupid old hag, and walked away. Beware your pride, lest it outweigh your kindness.