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Rebirth of Lightning

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Light streamed into the chamber through dozens of jagged holes of varying sizes, ranging from those so small that a Matoran could barely fit their hand through it, to those nearly a full bio wide. Many had been formed from the initial impact of the robot’s fall, and the rest from the unhalting erosion that had beaten away at what had once been a universe ever since.


In spite of nature’s impressive deconstruction of the robot--- and in spite of the deliberate efforts of the Toa and Glatorian at the same task--- no other sentient being had yet penetrated this chamber, at least, not to the scavenger’s knowledge. It had not been easy to find, to say the least: the Maze of Shadows was not known for its clear directions. Yet the scavenger had experience with persisting at a seemingly futile attempt, with working in the dark--- both literally and metaphorically--- and, most importantly of all, with complex schemes and efforts. The scavenger had a clear goal in mind, and nothing would keep them from it.


The chamber was a mess, as was to be expected from a former battleground. Crumpled parts of armor lay all around, with the largest pile gathered in the center of the chamber. Something seemed to be buried underneath it; a round shield with three straight grooves cut into one edge could be seen sticking out. Yet that was not the scavenger’s objective.


Other signs of the struggle that had taken place were also visible, if one knew where to look. Over here, a hole was cleanly melted in the chamber’s floor. A glance into it seemed to go down, and down, and down forever, all the way out the back of the Great Spirit’s head. That was not the scavenger’s objective either.


Over there was another hole, this time in the ceiling. Unlike the downward pit, which had sides neatly eaten away by a power hotter than fire, this scar seemed to be caused by brute impact, with something--- or someone--- having been unfortunately pushed straight through layers upon layers of solid protodermis, presumably flying out of the robot’s face in the end. Again the scavenger turned away.


Two of the signs were missing. The scavenger had not been present for the battle that had taken place here a little over year ago, and indeed had not even received a secondhand account: Their knowledge came from a old Dark Hunter contact that had bought it from a Matoran that had read it off of a history wall that had been carved by their Chronicler that had heard of it from the Toa. Yet this long and convoluted information passage had still clearly managed to communicate the nature of the other aftereffects of the battle, so it was no surprise to the scavenger that they could not find visible evidence for the last two signs. After all, black holes and sonic disintegration tend not to leave behind survivors.


The scavenger stepped across the chamber, past the lumps of destroyed Exo-Toa, past the twin holes made by plasma and vacuum, and towards their singular objective, the grand prize which would seal their place in the events that would soon unfold. And there it was, still perfectly intact amidst the destruction that had engulfed its brethren, still gleaming a bright crimson and silver. The prize seemed ready to activate with a simple touch, but the scavenger knew better.


Unstrapping a tool from their back, the scavenger gripped the staff in both hands and aimed its long tip at the motionless body of the prize. White-blue bolts of lightning arced out of the staff and struck the prize dead center. The scavenger grimaced as the use of this effect took its toll. It had been expensive and difficult to obtain this device that not only produced an electrical effect, but also drew on the user’s own energies to increase the power; the actual use of the device was costing the scavenger as well, forcing them to pay through effort and pain. But it was necessary, as the sheer amount of power required to reactivate the prize could not have been achieved any other way.


Finally it was over. Exhausted, the scavenger returned the tool to their back and prayed that the effort had been worth it. As a low humming began to emanate from the prize, as its faceplate began to glow faintly, the scavenger smiled. It had been worth every payment, every ounce of strength.


Reenergized at last, the Tahnok-Kal unfolded its insect-like body, rose to its full height and looked around curiously. Its eyes alighted on the being that had liberated it from a full year of confinement within its own, powerless body. Immediately the specialized Bohrok raised both of its Lightning Shields, one in a defensive position, the other neatly aimed at the heartlight of the intruder.


The black-armored female said nothing, simply staring down the Bohrok-Kal with a gaze that had known deceit, treachery, and murder. These eyes had cruelly witnessed the mutation of dozens of beings, some warriors of great power, others innocents whose fate was mere amusement for their tormentor. These eyes had met those of Makuta Teridax and known an emotion for which the residents of the Matoran Universe had no word, but which those of Spherus Magna might have deemed horrifically close to love.


This was not, Tahnok-Kal realized, a being that could be intimidated, no matter how outmatched in a contest of sheer power she might be. It lowered the shields.


“You freed us,” it said in a voice that did not contain the slightest hint of joy at having been freed. “Why?”


There was no response. Then, slowly, Roodaka began to laugh, already envisioning the riches this prize would bring her.




This was just a fun idea I had. Maybe it's a lead-up to something. Maybe I just wanted to write this scene. Who knows?

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idk man

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"People are like giant games of Jenga, with experience and memories as the blocks" -Me

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An interesting idea to be sure-the idea of Roodaka reviving one or more of the Kal is pretty sick, and might even give some additional validity to their story. Gotta be honest, from the title I was expecting something to do with Nikila; way to blindside me.

Voicing your opinions with tact is the best way to keep a discussion from becoming an argument.
So far as I'm aware, it's pronounced like this: We're ee ah moo.

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G1 Battle for Spherus Magna - G2 A Lingering Shadow

Short Stories

G1 Fallen Guardian - G2 Shadows of Past and Future (The Legend Continues Entry) Head of Stone, Heart of Jungle


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