Tick Tock (For Jayne Cobb)

[SamDrew]

Tick Tock 

 

 

         A gray Toa stood at the helm of a small ship, humming to himself as the spray washed over his mask. He relished in the sound of the hull skipping over the water, trying to match his own tune to the cadence and resonance of the craft’s rising and falling. Most of his kind hated the constant crashing and splashing of the ocean, and so made a point of avoiding it at all costs. He had, however, never quite fit in with them much anyways.

 

            His name was Toa Krakua, and he had been dispatched on a mission of utmost importance by Turaga Vakama himself. Really he was thankful for the opportunity to get away from the reconstruction efforts on the mainland. Though there had been no lack of excitement since the death of the Great Spirit robot and the evacuation of its inhabitants onto the newly reformed Spherus Magna, Krakua had found himself more often serving on salvage teams than fighting whatever menace had risen up against the union of Toa, Turaga, Matoran, Agori, and Glatorian. His knowledge of terrain and passageways in the now-dead universe he had served as a member of the Order of Mata Nui – and his ability to “see” with his sonic powers in the total darkness inside – were thought to be of better use in salvage operations than in combat by the Toa Nuva. Though he understood the necessity of this work, it was often quite dull, other than the occasional troop of Zyglak they’d encounter. Though of course that never provided much of a thrill, as Krakua could hear their lumbering and growling from a kio away.

 

         It was far from what he had become accustomed to in his time as an agent of the Order, but even in those days he had felt that Helryx was holding him back, sending him only on missions where things were unlikely to get too out of hand. He had almost felt that the Toa Nuva saw him in the same way at times, and so was more than thankful when Turaga Vakama sought him out for what he was told was a mission of great importance.

           

            Vakama had called for Krakua to meet him by the Wall of History in New Atero at sunset just a few days before. Kopeke the Chronicler had had a monumental task set before him when he was asked to carve this new Wall of History, now that all the great secrets of their former universe had been laid bare. Krakua had sat through a few bumbling interviews himself with the awkward Ko-Matoran, recounting what he could remember of his most important missions with the Order. Though it was still not finished (and though he loathed the constant sound of hammer on stone that assaulted his senses day after day), Krakua had to admit he was impressed with the little Matoran’s work as he stood looking it over in the waning sunlight.

 

         He heard the sound of shuffling feet and robes as he turned to see Turaga Vakama approaching from the other end of the great hall. “Walking amidst such history does have a way of making one feel small,” he mused with a grin, “and standing alongside a Toa certainly does not help for old relics like me.” “Your heroism stands taller than I or this wall ever will,” replied Krakua with a small bow. “Nonsense!” replied Vakama with a chuckle. “I’m quite certain you Toa get taller every time I see you.”

 

         The old Turaga’s eyes turned towards the sprawling wall. He walked slowly over to a rather large and ornate glyph and gently put his hand on it. It depicted a Toa floating in mid air, the great Kanohi Ignika on his face and beams of light shining outward from him. “He did not look quite so imposing when I knew him,” he said with a look of nostalgia. “Toa Matoro?” replied Krakua, turning to look at the carving as well. Vakama smiled. “I can still only think of him as a little Matoran, staring wide-eyed at Nuju as he told another one of his stories. He had a look in his eyes as if that was the only place in the world he wanted to be. I never knew him when he stood as tall as you, but I know without a doubt that his heart was still the same.”

 

         He sighed. “He of course bore the greatest burden, that of laying his life down for others so that we all might live on. But in the peace of death he no longer has to bear that burden. Those of us who still live cannot lay ours down just yet.” The old Turaga walked slowly along the wall, running his hand along the carvings. Krakua followed behind, examining Kopeke’s handiwork. He observed that they were walking backwards through the adventures of the Toa Mahri and their quest to obtain the Ignika and save the life of the Great Spirit. He had read the stories before, but was always taken aback anew by the terrors these Toa had endured. From the nightmare realm of Karzahni, to the hellish wastelands of Voya Nui, and then into the black waters of the Pit, their journey had been far more terrifying than any legend whispered in fear among the Matoran. Krakua had seen much in his own journeys throughout the universe, but even he could not imagine the trials these six heroes had faced.

 

         Vakama came to a stop where the chronicle of the Toa Mahri began. He stared at it for a moment, running his fingers along the Matoran symbols until they reached those that spelled out his own name. “All that they went through, all that my little villagers suffered and endured and fought for, and even the death of noble Matoro – it was all, in a way, because of me. It was I and my fellow Turaga who sent them on their quest to aid the Toa Nuva and that lead them down the perilous road to their Destiny. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of Matoro.” Vakama lowered his hand from the wall and turned to look into the sunset. “That is why I do not take lightly what I am about to ask of you, brave Toa.”

 

         “Time is a funny thing,” mused the Turaga as he walked, this time more briskly, further down the wall, continuing their journey into the past. “Though we perceive it as linear, it has yet a certain circuity to it. What has been has a tendency to come around again. What has died often is reborn, though it may not quite be familiar at first.” As they strode down the stone monolith, the two beings came to a portion where the sections of writing were more sparse, separated by increasingly large gaps until eventually the wall before them was entirely blank. “The time before time,” mused Vakama as he ran his hand along the smooth stone. “As of yet we know little of what was so long ago. But, it has proven to have a habit of showing itself to us.”

 

         Vakama’s finger glowed subtly as he traced lines and shapes on the blank wall, his gestures leaving trails of soot behind them. After a moment the shape of a kanohi mask was clear, one with dramatic wing-like flares on either side of the mouth and only a thin shaft and bridged eye slits extending above the lower structure. It was adorned with a pattern of round holes and edged with a series of small curves. “The Kanohi Vahi,” said Krakua, “Mask of Time. Your handiwork I am told.” Vakama smiled. “Perhaps my greatest creation had I remained but a mask maker. But of course Destiny had other plans in mind.” “The final reports put together by the Order said it was in the hands of the Dark Hunters when the Great Spirit robot fell. I remember others who had been in Metru Nui with us said that Voporak stole it from the Coliseum,” said Krakua. “Another time when I wished I still had your stature and power, friend,” replied Vakama. “Then perhaps I could have stopped that monster. But what has come to pass cannot be undone. The Hunters are indeed in possession of the Mask of Time, and though we do not yet know the extent of their plans for it, we have learned that they have put another scheme in motion. If what we have learned is true, they are planning to steal the other Mask of Time.”

 

         “Other Mask of Time?” Krakua asked in incredulity. “I had never heard that you’d made a second one. I’d thought there was only one set of great Kanoka disks.” “This mask is no creation of mine,” replied Vakama, turning again to the blank wall, “nor of any other being like us. Legend tells us it belongs to a time long before our own, before even that of the Great Beings themselves. It was unknown to any inhabitants of our universe save perhaps the oldest and most powerful for much of our existence, and even when the legends about it were unearthed it was kept secret among but a few. But now that the secrets of our dead universe are laid bare, and in the knowledge that the Dark Hunters possess the Vahi, the time has come to see if the legends are true.” Vakama turned to Krakua, and he noticed for the first time that the Turaga held an ancient-looking map in his hand, a scroll of paper rather than a stone tablet. “This is the most complete map we have of ancient Spherus Magna, unearthed in the catacombs of the Great Beings’ labs. As far as we can tell it depicts all that they charted in their exploration of the planet. Spherus Magna as it is now is not exactly as it was then, but if the legends hold true this map should be enough to help you find your destination.”

 

         The old Turaga knelt down and carefully rolled out the ancient scroll on the stone floor in the path of a waning ray of sunlight. He set his finger down on the approximate location of New Atero and traced it out into the oceans of Aqua Magna to a tiny island isolated from any other landmass. Krakua could not make out the ancient symbols that spelled out the island’s name. “Okoto,” said Vakama as if knowing the Toa’s thoughts. “It is a land untouched for millennia, the cradle of the Great Beings’ civilization. Their ancestors lived there and laid down the foundations of what would come in the ages ahead. As far as we know little is left there, other than that which you are seeking.” Vakama further unrolled the scroll, revealing a crude depiction of what looked to be a stone building, wide and rectangular with two pointed upper towers, and what appeared to be a pendulum protruding from one side. “The ancients called this place the Temple of Time. It was a sacred site for them, as it housed this more ancient Mask of Time. It is said that they revered it as a source of prophecy and means of seeing into the future. What it actually was we are not sure, but it is undoubtedly an artifact of great power just like the mask that I forged myself.”

 

         “I’m guessing then that the Hunters are hoping to combine this mask’s power with the Vahi to try and influence the flow of time,” mused Krakua, squatting down to examine the map. Vakama chuckled. “No one who wears a kanohi Suletu gets to pretend they are guessing my friend. You have seen my thoughts correctly, to the best of our understanding the Shadowed One and his minions have reason to believe that with the two masks joined together they will be able to alter time. I know from my own attempts to use the mask that it possesses more power than most beings can control, so perhaps the Hunters think that the two masks together will allow their power to be more easily manipulated.” “So you need me to get to the mask first then,” said Krakua, rising again to his full stature. “We can use it to see a way to beat the Dark Hunters and take back the Vahi before they can complete their plan.” Vakama sighed, leaning on his staff. “You sound too much like Helryx still, my friend. Always seeking to exploit.” He tapped his staff twice on the stone floor, then chuckled lamentfully. “The mask is not a weapon to be put to use for our own purposes. That is the Dark Hunters’ aim. And anyways, that is not the nature of such a mask.” Vakama turned to look at his drawing of the Vahi. “The future can only share so much with the past, Krakua. That is a law even a Toa does not have the power to change. If this mask is like the Vahi I forged then it would not be possible to control by one of our kind to see that of which you speak. No, friend, your purpose is to protect it.”

 

         Krakua’s heart sank. Guard duty. He was going from guarding a salvage crew to guarding an old mask on an ancient, probably uninhabited island. Not much of an improvement - a demotion really. He was starting to think this mission would be just like all the others after all. Vakama must have noticed the Toa’s expression behind his mask as the wise Turaga smiled almost knowingly and added, “Don’t worry my friend, I have a feeling you will be anything but bored in your quest.”

 

. . . . .

 

            At least I’m outside, mused Krakua as his craft skimmed over the waves, the sunlight washing over his frame as did the ocean spray. Even if this was guard duty, at least there was light out here. Moreso, he was thankful he wouldn’t have anyone else to account for. He wasn’t a loner by any means, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the freedom of his independence as he gazed out at the wide expanse of water surrounding him. The thrill of adventure coursed through him as he gazed towards the horizon, kios of open unknown ahead.

 

            For once it was satisfying to know that however dull his assignment might turn out to be, he was serving the Matoran and their allies as a Toa should. Because he had been rescued by the Order before he received his Toa powers, he had never served on a Toa team or as the defender of a Koro. His life as a Toa had been as a servant of the Order, separated from his other powered companions only by the stipulations of the Toa Code he still chose to abide by. He knew he had done much good serving the Order, but as one of its agents he was well aware of the darker deeds they had committed in the name of the greater good. Helryx was careful to shield him from being sent on such missions so as to protect his adherence to the Code, but he knew of them nonetheless from bits and pieces he picked up from reports and overheard conversations.

 

         Again he looked out towards the horizon. This island of Okoto wouldn’t be more than a few days’ journey, but as far as he could see there was water. An ocean bigger than my entire universe, he thought. And yet, I spent my whole life fighting for it. I masqueraded all about, calling myself a Toa, working for ‘the good of all,’ all for what? For it to be possessed by some egomaniac Makuta and then crushed by a meteor? He slumped down, sitting on the floor of the boat. He looked out again over the waves. Well at least I’m a true Toa now. I’m fighting the good fight.

 

         An image flashed into his mind. A Matoran, dead, killed in cold blood. A Toa of Water standing over the motionless form, a sickening grin on her face. Tuyet. Krakua had been briefed on this rogue Toa. So hungry for power was she that she killed the Matoran she was sworn to protect to secure it. She was as much a monster as Teridax himself. Another image flashed in Krakua’s mind, this time of a four-legged insectoid being. Nidhhiki. As monstrous on the inside as on the outside, the former Toa had willingly lead his own team into an ambush in order to secure a position of power. As if that weren’t enough, he had served Teridax himself before being absorbed into the Makuta’s body. Countless other stories began resurfacing in Krakua’s memory, tales of the horrors rought by Toa who had abandoned their Duty to pursue their own hearts’ desires. A dejected look spread over the Toa’s face. We’re no better than the Makuta or the Dark Hunters. When the opportunity presents itself, we Toa will turn on our friends just as quickly. We’re not heroes. We’re just loose cannons pointed in the right direction. Krakua lowered his head in dismay as he streaked onward across the vast ocean.

 

. . . . .

 

            Three days had passed since Krakua left New Atero for the mysterious island of Okoto. He drew a stone tablet from a satchel as the sun sank lower on the horizon. On it was etched a copy of the ancient map shown to him by Vakama. As far as he could guess, he expected to reach the island’s shores by nightfall. From there he would have to head inland through a dense jungle to reach the Temple of Time.

 

            He had been scanning the surrounding ocean for any sign of a ship or other craft that might indicate that the Dark Hunters had followed him, or worse, were ahead of him, but so far he hadn’t spotted anything. He had begun to tire of seeing nothing but water and so was looking forward to being on dry land again, even if there was little promise of excitement. Maybe there will be some rahi that will try to make a meal out of me, he mused. Or at least whatever it is they call their beasts there.

 

            Krakua caught his first glimpse of the island just as the sun dipped below the horizon. He turned to take one last look at the setting sun and was surprised to see a faint glimmer in the distance, there and gone in an instant as the sun fell out of view. For a moment he thought of a possible pursuer who had somehow dodged his watchful eye. Even at this distance though, he thought, he surely would have heard the engine any such craft would require, and so dismissed it as the reflection off of a takea shark’s fin or something of the like.

 

            The sandy shore was dark when he beached his boat, but he had no trouble “seeing” thanks to his ability to echolocate. Never could get over feeling like a big gray ice bat, even if I am outside this time around, he thought to himself as he dragged his craft up to the treeline and covered it with loose brush.

           

            Krakua used his Kanohi Suletu to probe the area for sentient minds, a practice he had made a habit of in his days as an agent of the Order. He detected none, and so made his way into the dense mass of trees ahead of him. He drew his sonic vibration sword and made it quiver just enough to cut a path through the vines and bushes. He realized he was making quite a bit of noise even to a being without his powers, but he figured if somehow someone had followed him here he was better off making his presence known. After all, between his enhanced hearing and his Suletu he’d see them coming long before they could sneak up on him.

 

            After a less-than-enjoyable amount of bushwhacking, Krakua noticed the brush had begun to thin and spotted a clearing up ahead. He emerged from the jungle into a wide open area of hard dirt with patches of grass which sloped up in the center forming a small hill. At the top was an imposing structure, clearly that which was depicted on the scroll. It was beyond ancient, yet somehow a bit too well-preserved for its age. It loomed over the jungle landscape almost with a presence of its own, watching and waiting for eons while all else grew up, died, and was replaced by other things that would do the same.

 

            As Krakua stepped into the clearing he realized he had not kept up his telepathic pings as he strained to push through the thick underbrush. He decided to do one more for good measure before mounting the hill and entering the temple.

 

         Immediately he sensed another, malevolent presence. He had barely enough time to dodge a flying kanoka disk which shot past him and into the hillside. Stunned, Krakua turned to face his attacker, but “saw” nothing. Even more confusing was the realization that he heard nothing either – not the creaking of joints or the rising and falling of breaths or the minute scrapings of armor that even the tiniest of beings made without hardly moving. There was nothing but his own noise and the sounds of the jungle.

 

         Crouching low and readying his sword he tried to reach out with his kanohi to probe the thoughts of his attacker. He found the other mind without difficulty, but when he tried to read it he heard but one thing. Silence. Another kanoka disk ripped out of the shadows, this time barely missing Krakua’s head. He caught just enough of a glimpse of the projectile as he rolled away to guess where it came from and peered eagerly into the darkness in that direction. His echolocation could make out no figure, but he did notice something that caught him by surprise. Though the shape of every stone, tree and vine was clear, there in front of him was a perfect circle of darkness – not darkness void of light but void of sound. Shutting off his echolocation, Krakua stared into the pitch black of the night. He barely glimpsed a faint pair of red eyes before he had to dive out of the path of another kanoka disk.

 

         Now knowing his attacker’s position, he unleashed a deafening wave of sonic energy from his sword. He could see the shapes of trees blown out of the ground flying in all directions, ripped out at the roots as a massive sonic boom rang out through the forest. As the dust cleared, Krakua lowered his sword only to see that the circle of blackness and the beady red eyes hadn’t budged an inch.

 

         Bewildered, Krakua took the opportunity to again raise his sonic sword, this time striking the ground and raising up a cloud of dust to cover his dash into the temple doorway. If he couldn’t hear his attacker in the open clearing, perhaps the stone corridors of the temple would at least make an echo to give the Toa of Sonics an edge. The interior of the structure was illuminated by the dim light of ancient runes carved into the wall and filled with some luminescent stone. These runes ran in columns up and down the interior walls, giving off just enough light that Krakua didn’t need to rely on echolocation any longer.

 

         After making his way through the grand archway Krakua had dashed around the first corner passage he saw and stood with his back against the wall, waiting for his pursuer to follow. The second he heard so much as a pebble shift he would use his sonic sword to bring down the stone doorway and trap the attacker beneath the rubble. He waited like this for what seemed like an eternity, catching his breath and readying his counterattack. Growing impatient, he peered ever so slightly around the corner, and was immediately face to face with those beady red eyes, now obscured behind a dark translucent faceplate. Krakua ducked as a short blade crashed into the stone where his neck had been an instant before, but he was not quick enough to dodge the kick that followed. His enemy’s foot crashed into his head and sent him skidding across the stone floor.

 

         Stunned, Krakua watched with blurred vision as his attacker strode across the floor towards him, lumbering almost robotically under its heavy armor. Most unsettling though was the absolute lack of sound it made despite the weight of its armor, when it should have clanged about like a Mahi’s bell on a cold day. Krakua struggled to get up as the being bore down on him, but before he could rise it was upon him, wrapping its fingers around his throat. As it lifted him in the air, Krakua readied a blast of sonic energy and unleashed it point-blank at his pursuer. To his shock and dismay the Toa of Sonics heard not so much as a pop as the attacker stood absolutely unaffected. Krakua tried again and again to strike out, to no avail. Behind its faceplate, the attacker’s red eyes gleamed in a twisted smile.

 

         In all his missions for the Order, in all his pitched battles and close calls, Krakua had never before felt so afraid. Here he was, a Toa, a being of immense power, and yet it was all useless against this monster that gripped him by the throat. His eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the face of his attacker. It was the Dark Hunter “Silence,” a being able to create a sound-dampening field around himself. Serving mostly as an assassin, he was one of the Hunters the Order most feared as he was nearly untraceable. Rumor had it that even the other Dark Hunters didn’t know where he was when he spent time on Odina. Krakua knew of this creature, and had hoped against all hope that he would never, ever meet him, but yet here they were, the only two beings for kios around on a desolate island in the middle of an ocean.

 

         Gathering himself as best he could, Krakua lashed out with a hard kick, striking his assailant in the torso and earning just enough give to twist free of his chokehold. Krakua grabbed his sword and raised it to strike Silence, who quickly blocked with his own blades. Releasing one blade while holding back the sword with the other, Silence sliced noiselessly at Krakua, striking him on the hip and forcing him to disengage.

 

         As Krakua staggered back, he noticed a series of huge stone beams running one after the other above the passageway before him. He raised his sonic sword and shattered one into pieces, which fell and glanced off of Silence’s armor. Krakua kept up the barrage as he walked backwards down the hallway, Silence following in his wake. The next beam struck Silence dead on, though he brushed it off and continued forward. The third clearly disoriented him, and the fourth drove him to the ground, covering him in large chunks of rubble. Krakua downed one more to slow any pursuit and ran on down the passageway.

 

            I’ve got to find the mask. I’ve got to find the mask, thought Krakua as he stumbled around another corner, trying to put as much distance between himself and his pursuer as he could while he had the chance. Running away, running away, he heard in the back of his mind. Ha! Some Toa you are! “Quiet!” he said aloud, shaking his head as he came to another large doorway. This one was near the center of the temple, and it opened up into a large atrium that looked up between the two towers on the roof of the structure. Massive columns of glowing runes lined the walls of the chamber, illuminating a large raised platform in the center.

 

            Floating in the center of this platform was a golden mask, looking almost like an inverted version of the Vahi but yet more ancient and refined. Without hesitation Krakua strode up the stone stairway leading up the platform. As he crested the top and reached for the mask, he barely had time to notice a red laser dot on the platform in front of him before he was blown back by a huge explosion. Slamming into one of the outer walls amidst dust and debris, Krakua collapsed to the ground. He looked up to see the ominous figure of Silence, battered but unhurt, standing in the doorway with smoke rising from the cannon he held in his right hand.

 

            With what strength he had left, Krakua picked himself up and slipped behind the wall he had fallen in front of. He looked out into the atrium as Silence reloaded his cannon and saw that the Mask of Time still hovered in place, though its pedestal platform was blackened and had a large chunk blown away. One last chance, he thought, readying his sonic sword. He prepared to unleash a sonic blast at the ground beneath him, rocketing himself into the air on a trajectory to grab the mask where it floated. Then, hopefully, he would make a mad dash for the nearest passageway and make his way back into the jungle.

 

            He reached out with his Suletu one last time, hoping to at least get a general sense of where his pursuer was so as to be ready for the next Kanoka disk or cannon blast. As he made note of Silence’s position and prepared to make his jump, he felt something else tugging at the edge of his mind. Surprised, he turned towards the presence. It was right by the mask itself, faint but hovering around or within it. Confused, he probed deeper, sensing that the presence was growing slightly stronger and moving just to the right of the mask.

 

           Closing his eyes, Krakua reached out to the presence with his mind. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a whirling haze of color and sound, visions of past and future flashing all around him. Thoughts that were not his own invaded his mind. Memories of things he had never experienced washed over him. He struggled to focus amidst the onslaught of swirling visions.

 

           Merged into one were past, present and future alike all around him. A cyclone of sights and sounds blasted his frame as he struggled to discern what he was perceiving. He suddenly saw himself, still but a De-Matoran, being rescued from his village by the Ko-Matoran Mazeka. He saw himself training on Daxia with other members of the Order, and his own conversion to his Toa form.

 

           He looked beyond and saw an even greater cacophony of swirling visions. He saw his friend Jerbraz, who he recognized by his demeanor rather than his appearance, suddenly be turned invisible in a freak accident. He saw Vakama and the other Toa Metru surrender their Toa power to awaken the sleeping Matoran on the shores of Mata Nui.

 

           He turned again to see Toa Helryx arise for the first time, surrounded by dark hooded figures looming over her. He saw a great red mass of teeth and tentacles banished to the outer regions of his universe, telepathic screams coursing through his mind. He witnessed the first spark of life in the Great Spirit robot, and its final battle under Makuta’s control where it was ultimately struck down.

 

           And then, brighter and clearer than any other vision, he saw a Toa of Ice descend from dark waters into a vast light and don the great Kanohi Ignika. He felt a surge of energy and light as he witnessed the figure burst into a flash of pure essence and disperse into the great cavern as the sounds of immense machinery grinding and turning again rang out.

 

           He looked beyond, and in a moment of clarity he saw the whole history of his own kind, the Toa, laid out before him like an open scroll. He looked upon the great deeds of the heroes of old and of those who would succeed him, and all they had done, would do, and had sacrificed in the name of truth and justice. Though some fell to the temptations of power and vanity, the heroism and nobility of the rest far outweighed their treachery. Krakua looked on in awe, breathing in sharply once or twice. This is what it means to be a Toa, he thought amidst the swirling storm of sight and sound. This is our legacy. This is who I am.

 

           Again the full weight of the stream of visions bore upon him. He fought to maintain his sanity against the mental assault of so many lives lived, battles fought, friends lost and enemies made. He closed his eyes in pain, crying out as he felt his mind on the verge of tearing apart. Then suddenly, all was quiet again.

 

           The pressure subsided and Krakua opened his eyes. A form took shape in his mind’s eye. It was a Toa of Fire, wearing a Kanohi Huna and looking even more confused than Krakua.

 

           With a smile of recognition and of purpose, Krakua spoke. “I am Toa Krakua,” he said, looking the red Toa in the eyes. “I greet you, brother, in the name of all the Toa who have gone before and all of those who have yet to be.”

 

 

 

-----

 

To Jayne Cobb: Hope you enjoyed the story! Sorry it's coming so late, I had a very busy holiday season, and because I loved this idea so much I wanted to be sure I did it right. I know you wanted short and sweet, but I figure since I pretty much hit all of your other requests that I can get a pass on that one! I really had a lot of fun writing this and hope that you and any other readers have a blast with it too!

 

-----

 

A note for all readers: in case it isn't obvious, this story fits in with the events of BIONICLE Adventures 10: Time Trap. I even steal a few key lines from the relevant chapter and make several direct references that can be spotted by those with keen eyes. If you want a copy of the chapter to compare you can find the section I referenced on pages 183-184 of book five of the ever-so-amazing compendium of Bionicle lore that is TuragaNuva's Biological Chronicle project (link). 

 

A special thanks to TuragaNuva for your hard work, and an even bigger one to BIOsector01 for every scrap of canon information I could ever have needed. And of course to Tufi Piyufi for organizing this wonderful fanfic exchange!

 

Thanks everyone, enjoy!

 

-Sam

Edited January 9, 2018 by SamDrew

[Dane-gerous]

Wow.

 

This is one of those stories that had a moment where my mind went click and everything fitted perfectly together.

 

It reminded me a lot of Greg's old serials and I could totally see this being a canon explanation as to how Krakua gave his speech to Vakama in Time Trap (minus the G2 stuff of course)

 

I particularly loved Vakama's lines as I felt that I could imagine his voice in MoL saying them. Very accurate.

 

Great work, I enjoyed this a lot (and I don't mind it being late)

[SamDrew]

So glad to hear you enjoyed it! I had a blast weaving everything together and exploring the characters. To be honest the discussion with Vakama is my favorite part too!

 

Cheers!

 

-Sam