Edited by Using Less Vorex, Jun 20 2012 - 09:32 AM.
The Eleventh HourShadows Epic
Posted Jun 19 2012 - 11:07 AM
Posted Jun 20 2012 - 09:59 AM
PART I: THE COMING STORMChapter 1 – The Hosted:The night was illuminated by flashing lights, and filled with whirring and grinding, mixed with mechanical screeches of laughter, all from the creatures hard at work within the crater left by Marendar’s destruction. They were the underlings, the foot soldiers of the Shadows – those of higher ranks were too busy trying to find themselves hosts.There are some people more likely to attract the attention of a Shadow looking for a host – people who have killed, people who plan to kill, people whose evil and desire for revenge or destruction was unparalleled.People like Ignotus, ex-emperor of the Mystix.Ignotus was alive. He had pulled himself out of the ocean, revived from his state of stasis by the energy of the Ignika. He, of course, wanted revenge. However, Ignotus’ revenge did not matter to the shadowy being that crept up behind him. “Hello, Ignotus.”Ignotus recognised the voice from somewhere, and turned, only to see darkness. The slight illumination from a nearby lightstone did not reach far enough to reveal his visitor. “Who is it? Who dares to interfere with Ignotus, Emperor of the Mystix?”“’Emperor’, huh? You always did fancy yourself as being better than the rest of us.” The Shadow grinned, and stepped into the light, revealing himself to be shaped like a Mystix, shrouded by writhing tendrils of shadow.“Laz?” Ignotus took a single step back. All of the Mystix were dead, they had drowned in the cave. So how could Laz be here, if he was among them?“That’s you all over. Always good with a face.” A tendril of shadow lanced out from Laz, spearing Ignotus through his chest. “I died in that bloody disaster you called your empire. I could have been so much, Ignotus. I should have been above you. But now, I can be you. You have paid the price of your actions in the blood of others, but now it is time to pay in your own.”The tendril pulled Ignotus in, forcing him to become a part of The Shadow. As he was finally absorbed, the shadows cleared, and Laz looked at his new body. “I have... power. Power unlike any I have had before.”A sword lay on the ground. Laz reached out his hand, and it flew into the air, before impaling itself in a nearby rock. “He wasted this power, he didn’t realise its potential. The fool. I can do so much more than he ever could. I am one of the highest among the ranks of the Shadows, and I can claim even those higher than me!”“A touching speech, old chap, but I do think that may not be the smartest thing to say.” The Shadow walked towards Laz. He found Pulse’s corpse to be rather comfortable, despite the thoughts of revenge that often clouded his judgement. “I’ll tell you what, maybe you should start with your power-seizing by taking a group to that settlement not far from here. That sound good to you?”Laz looked, eyes wide, at the other Shadow. “Y-yes... of course...”“Good puppy.” The Shadow slapped Laz on the back, causing the Mystix to stumble and fall flat on his face, before walking off into the darkness. “I’ve got a town of my own to flatten.”- - -Pirok walked through the town. He had to admit, in the weeks since he and Proditor had last defeated Pulse, things had been a little dull. He didn’t even have Incommodo to brighten things up.In fact, brightening may not have been all that good. He was enjoying the peace and quiet – that was why he had moved away from New Atero in the first place.He was immediately on alert when he heard screams coming from nearby, and ran as fast as he could to reach their source. However, it seemed that he was just moments too late. As he reached the centre of the square area, he was surrounded by corpses. Only one figure still stood, his back to Pirok. “Excuse me? Can you tell me what happened here?”Pirok noticed that something wasn’t quite right about the being. The way he stood seemed slightly awkward, almost as though he was only adjusting to his current form. His suspicions were confirmed when the being turned, revealing Pulse’s Tryna. He tried to run, but Pulse glided towards him. His eyes glowed red, and he was wreathed in shadow. He stopped, and unsheathed his sword, aiming a beam of shadow at Pirok, who only narrowly dodged it. The shadows ate through the wall behind Pirok like acid.“This body... it is not my own, but I can tell that you were once its enemy. With my power and its combined, you will not live to become one of mine.” Shadows whipped out from Pulse’s body, plunging into the corpses, which began picking themselves up off the ground.“Pulse?”“Pulse is dead. I am Nekron.” The being smirked. “Your end has begun.”Review Topic
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Posted Jan 04 2013 - 03:01 PM
Chapter 17 – Diversion
The wind whistled through Nikarra’s room, stirring her from her sleep. She was a light sleeper – any change in sound or temperature was usually enough to wake her.
She looked around the room, trying to figure out the source of the draught. After a short while, she noticed that the door was open.
Nikarra didn’t leave the door to her room open. Ever. It wasn’t like heating was something you could get easily, and the days had been getting quite a bit colder recently. Every door and window had to be kept closed in order to save heat.
She shook her head, getting up. She probably just hadn’t closed it properly the night before. As it clicked shut, she turned back, only to find her way blocked.
“Going somewhere?” The being standing before Nikarra was like nothing she’d seen before; tall, white, with bright green eyes and tear-like black stains down its face. It glowed with a light that, rather than illuminating the surroundings, seemed to make what was around it darker by comparison. It was neither organic nor mechanical, almost like some kind of liquid or gas, but not quite. The only things like it that Nikarra could recall were the Shadows... and the only Shadow who looked anything like that was Nekron. “Don’t you recognise me? I’m hurt.”
“I’m sorry I’ve offended you,” the Toa of Lightning spat.
“No, I don’t mean your lack of recognition hurt me. Honestly, I couldn’t care less.” Nekron chuckled. “I mean that I’m physically hurt, thanks to your friend Incommodo. He has both reduced me to nothing and made me more than I ever was before.”
“That’s very interesting, now go tell someone who cares.”
“Huh. I would have expected you to be in a better mood, given your recent victory. Congratulations on that, by the way.” Nekron said, clapping sarcastically.
Nikarra was silent for a few moments, glaring at Nekron. “What are you up to?”
“Me? Up to something?” the Shadow gasped, eyes widening with mock innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Only when I want to be.” If Nekron had access to a mouth at that moment, he likely would have smirked. "Alright, I'm not the type to hide behind false idiocy; I'm planning a diversion attack on New Atero so that I can utterly destroy you while you’re celebrating your second victory in recent days.”
A long pause. “You can’t be serious.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Due to how quickly and casually I handed the information over, maybe I’m lying. Alternatively, maybe it’s a trick, and I am actually telling you the truth, but I expect you to think that I wouldn’t give you the truth so easily, and so on until you collapse on the ground with the world’s worst headache.”
“The fact that you just gave that description proves that it probably is your plan though.” Nikarra pointed out, earning a chuckle from Nekron.
“What a wonderful observation. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll get to why I actually came here.” Nekron’s expression and tone became darker as he went into the second sentence, and his presence became somewhat more threatening, the room growing colder.
“And why’s that?” Nikarra asked, trying to stop herself from shivering.
“To extend an offer to you,” Nekron explained, calmly. “I’m giving you the once-in-a-lifetime chance to join the winning side. I’m giving you the chance to become a Shadow.”
“What?” Nekron’s calm exterior dropped, as something like either anger or confusion appeared in his eyes, but it returned almost immediately.
“No. You want to know why? I knew someone, once. A good person. One of the best I’ve ever known. I used to be an opportunist, joining whatever side looked most likely to win. I described my viewpoint to him, and he pushed it aside. I saw it as idiocy. But it was heroism. He was sticking with what was right, whether it led to victory or not. He didn’t care. He didn’t fight for glory. He didn’t fight to win. He fought for what was right. That’s what heroes are. And I’m tired of being a villain.”
“What happened to him, then?”
Nekron laughed. “Don’t you see that that’s the only way things will end if you follow that path?”
“Yes, I do. But I’ll die either way. The difference is dying a hero or a coward.” Nikarra growled. “So, no, I won’t join your ‘winning side.’ I would rather die.”
Nekron’s expression grew darker yet, and he glowed slightly brighter as the room too became darker, as though he was sucking in what little light existed in his surroundings. “That can be arranged.”
- - -
Incommodo stared out at the sand. The sun shone brightly in the sky, making the vast, white desert nearly blinding. The only change in the scenery was a black blur in the distance.
Incommodo squinted his eyes, trying to make out what it was. It wasn’t a rock, he’d have noticed it before. As it came closer, he could make out several shapes within it. There were three dark-armoured Toa, and a white creature of some kind. The white thing seemed to be in front.
Slowly, he came to the realisation that they were looking for him. He looked around desperately for an escape, but he was inside a cave in the middle of a featureless desert. There was nowhere to run. Defeated, he simply sat in the shade, waiting for the beings to reach him.
Eventually, Tarrhus and the Shades reached their destination, to find Incommodo sitting cross-legged on the ground with his head down. “Hello, boys.”
“You’re going to have to come with us,” Fear growled, taking a step forward, only to find himself thrown backwards.
“No, I don’t think I am.” Incommodo pushed up off the ground, hovering in midair, before putting his legs on the ground in order to stand up.
You don’t have any choice here, a voice in Incommodo’s head warned. It would be best to just go with them.
No, thanks. Even as Incommodo finished thinking his reply, the white creature – which was similar in appearance to some kind of Rahkshi – launched itself at him, only to be stopped by the same magnetic field that had prevented Fear’s approach. “You know what I can’t help but wonder? You guys have all these mental masks. I mean, you’ve got Charisma, you’ve got Telepathy, and you’ve got Mind Control. Why aren’t you using them?”
The three Shades were silent, until Horror finally spoke. “How we use our Kanohi is none of your business.”
“Actually, I think it is,” Incommodo smirked. “I think that you’re scared. What happened to your friend with the Volitak? The one you sent after me?”
“What a coincidence. He touched me and broke down, and you won’t even use your mask powers on me.” Incommodo smirked, advancing slightly, but still staying inside the magnetic field he’d set up. “What are you hiding?”
“Come with us and we’ll tell you.” Fear growled.
“Nah, I don’t think I will. Thanks for the offer, though.” Suddenly, Incommodo disappeared. The Shades looked around for a few moments, trying to figure out what had happened, until Tarrhus hissed angrily.
The fool used his mask, the creature projected into the minds of the Shades. He could be anywhere by now with this desert as flat as it is.
“Is it over, then?” Horror asked, looking into the distance.
- - -
When Nikarra had failed to show up at New Atero’s gates (or what little remained of them) at dawn, Arkrak had waited another hour, before setting off into the desert himself. He was beginning to grow tired when he spotted a dark blue shape in the distance, moving closer. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at it, only to find it standing right in front of him.
“You’re not a hallucination, right?” Incommodo asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Not that I’m aware,” Arkrak replied.
“Okay. Just thought it’d be best to check, I drank some juice out of a dodgy-looking cactus back there.”
“You don’t have a digestive system.”
“Oh. Right.” Incommodo was silent for a few seconds. “Anyway, now you’re going to leave, and let me continue to live in the desert and avoid my destiny. Good Arkrak.”
Incommodo, who had already begun walking away, turned to face Arkrak. “What?”
“No.” Arkrak glared at Incommodo as he spoke, some anger creeping into his voice. “You’re not just going to leave. You want to avoid your destiny? Do it from New Atero. It’s your destiny, Incommodo. You can’t escape it. Your reasoning is pointless and you’ve left me on my own enough times recently. So no, I won’t leave. Not unless you come with me.”
“When did everyone get so stubborn...” Incommodo muttered. “Alright. I’ll go back to New Atero. But only because you asked nicely.”
- - -
“This place is a wreck.” Incommodo observed as he and Arkrak walked into New Atero.
“Thank you for stating the blindingly obvious yet again, Incommodo.” Arkrak sighed.
“I’m getting the feeling that you’re not in a terribly good mood.”
“I wonder if it might have to do with the fact that every comment you’ve made since I convinced you to come back was completely unnecessary.”
The two Toa barely had time to register what was happening as part of a nearby wall collapsed, very nearly crushing them.
“This place is in even worse a stae than I thought,” Incommodo commented. “Walls falling down on their own like that.”
“I don’t think that wall fell down on in its own.” Slowly, Incommodo followed Arkrak’s gaze to the broken wall, and past it, to the approaching mass of Shadow-possessed Rahkshi.
Edited by Simply Vorex, Jan 04 2013 - 03:40 PM.
Posted Feb 18 2013 - 09:14 AM
Chapter 18 – The Battle
“On the bright side of things, they’re all really tiny.” Incommodo pointed out in what seemed to be an attempt at optimism.
“Incommodo, I think they’re just far away.” Arkrak sighed.
“Oh. Right. That does make sense, yeah.” The Toa of Magnetism nodded.
“So, what do we do?”
“Well, our usual reaction to a situation like this would be to fight them. But we’ve done a lot of fighting recently and I’m pretty sure that at least one person on our side has died every time, meaning that if we fight again you’re going to die,” Incommodo explained, surprisingly calmly.
“Couldn’t you die too?”
“Unless I manage to destroy the universe in the process, no. So basically, if we die, you’re screwed.”
“What about Nikarra? She’s still alive, so she could die, too.”
“Wrong.” The two Toa turned around to face the being who had spoken, who sat on the remains of a wall, observing them with his catlike green eyes. As he stood up and approached them, the temperature dropped, and the light as usual was sucked into the white substance that the Shadow was made up of. “I’m afraid that Nikarra is... no longer with you.”
“What did you do to her?” Incommodo hissed, pulling out one of his blades, which made Nekron back away slightly, reducing his effects on their surroundings.
“We came to a compromise,” another voice replied, and it was one at the same time alien and familiar to Incommodo and Arkrak. Nikarra’s voice was colder than ever, and her speech was slightly deeper in pitch, yet still recognisable. When she walked out from behind the very same wall Nekron had been sitting on, her appearance had met a similar fate; her eyes shone crimson rather than green, and her armour was darker, with more black than before. It hadn’t just changed in colour, though – lighter and sleeker, there was noticeably less of it than before, and tendrils of shadow curled around it like thin, black snakes.
“You’re one of them.” Arkrak whispered, his voice failing him.
Nekron waved at Arkrak. “I’m still here, you know.”
“Arkrak, go take care of those Rahkshi,” Incommodo ordered, not turning to face his friend, instead looking directly at Nekron. “I’ll take care of Nekron and his new friend.”
“Are you sure?” Arkrak asked, looking from Incommodo to the two Shadows.
“I’ll be fine, Arkrak. Just go.” He hissed, still not looking at him. He continued to watch Nekron as he heard his friend beginning to run away. He began to walk towards him, slowly, blade in hand. “What’s wrong, Nekron? You’re looking a little pale.”
“You try being stabbed; we’ll see how it works out.” Nekron spat.
“Ooh, have I hit a nerve?” Incommodo spun the blade in his hand as he advanced further. “I thought you were the ‘most powerful Shadow in existence’.”
“I was. But now... I’m much, much more. And you’ve made one big mistake, Incommodo.”
“What might that be?”
“You aren’t watching your left.”
Incommodo span around to slash at Nikarra, but too late – her knife was embedded in his arm, already painful enough from being stabbed quite recently. He cried out, falling down on his knees as Nikarra let go of the knife, letting the Toa of Magnetism try to grab it and pull it out. She crouched down, taking hold of the knife once again, and began twisting it slowly, earning louder cries from Incommodo. “Don’t worry, Inc. I’m not going to kill you. You’re much too important to die...”
“Screw you,” he hissed between gritted teeth. “Your... knife... is... metal...”
The knife, along with Nikarra, was sent flying backwards as Incommodo cried out yet again, the pain in his arm intensifying. He turned on Nekron, picking up the blade he’d dropped. “I’m going to slit your throat and see just how much whiter you can turn.”
“Ooh, have I hit a nerve?” Nekron mimicked, glaring at Incommodo. “You’ve lost this battle, Incommodo. You may as well go help your friend hold off that attack, I’d bet it’s not something beyond your power and expertise.”
“He can manage. You’re on your own, now. I can take you.” However, even as Incommodo finished, Nikarra was at Nekron’s side again, one hand on her hip, the other grasping her bloodied knife. “Now, Incommodo, you only have one choice: run.”
“I’d rather die,” the Toa of Magnetism growled.
“No, Incommodo, you wouldn’t.” Nekron chuckled. “Now, do as I said: run, Incommodo. Run for your life.”
Incommodo spat on the ground, then turned and began walking away, beginning to increase his pace with every one of the shouts Nekron sent after him.
- - -
Arkrak stood before the oncoming army of Rahkshi, with absolutely no idea what to do.
“So, how goes defeating the Rahkshi?” Incommodo asked, having teleported over to Arkrak after he got tired of running.
“Not well,” Arkrak sighed, looking down. Then there was an almost audible click as he looked up again, to face Incommodo. “But I think I have a plan.”
- - -
“Arkrak, have I ever told you that you’re a genius?” Incommodo questioned, looking around at the mirrors placed just inside the gates.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Good, because I don’t see how this plan is going to work.”
“I have a Ruru,” Arkrak explained. “All I have to do is stand here, activate my mask, and this whole place is going to light up bright enough to burn those Rahkshi to a crisp.”
“Arkrak, you’re a genius.” Incommodo grinned. “But, y’know, just in case it doesn’t work, I think I’m going to hide elsewhere in the city.”
With that, Incommodo turned around and disappeared. “What a great friend.”
Arkrak took a few steps back, watching the approach of the Rahkshi. Slowly, the Shadow-possessed shells began to fill the space, approaching Arkrak at a slow pace, almost as though they were taunting him – they didn’t need to move quickly, or even fight that well. It was one Toa against an army, and he didn’t have a chance of winning.
Or so they thought.
“Say ‘cheese,’” Arkrak muttered, closing his eyes and activating his mask. Suddenly, a bright flash filled the whole clearing, and the screams of the Rahkshi reminded Arkrak to create a field of silence around his ears. After a short while, he opened his eyes, letting his mask’s power fade. The Rahkshi lay crumpled on the ground, pools of sizzling, black, acidic liquid around their heads.
“Karz, yeah!” Incommodo cheered, now standing beside Arkrak.
“I don’t like this, Incommodo,” Arkrak muttered.
“Why? We just won! Look at us! We’re winners! Woo!”
“It was too easy, Incommodo.”
“Maybe they’re just weaker than us,” Incommodo shrugged. “Come on.”
- - -
“Is this everyone?” Arkrak asked, looking around.
“Yes, it is.” Incommodo replied solemnly. “Just us, Arkrak. Everyone else is gone. Everyone else is dead.”
The two Toa stood behind a stage which had been days in the making, for the ceremony which would mark the end of all their troubles. They were the only heroes left. In less than a week, Spherus Magna’s greatest Toa had been all but destroyed.
Cheers and clapping were the signal for the two Toa to ascend the steps, and when they reached the platform Incommodo took a moment to look across at Arkrak. The two Toa had gone through so much, lost so many friends and allies, and it looked like it was finally over, like every sacrifice had, in fact, been worth it. Frustro approached them, carrying medals and a distasteful expression. Incommodo couldn’t care less. He just wanted it all to be over.
He got his wish.
He barely got to recognise the medal placed around his neck as the bullet smashed through his mask and mind. An instant death.
But there was one thing he did get to recognise: dark storm clouds approached in the distance, like nothing he had ever seen before. And although Incommodo could not see them, beneath the storm clouds stood an army, and at its head Nekron. “Ladies, gentlemen, Shadows of all ages; as we speak, Death himself moves toward New Atero. And in the aftermath of his arrival, we shall step over the dust left in his wake and take the city without the tiniest amount of resistance, because our enemies will already be lying dead at our feet.”
Closer to New Atero, Reichenbach sat on his stone throne, watching the dark clouds in the distance, when he felt a numbness in his fingers, and looked down to see that they no longer existed. The Key of Time, which he had been holding only moments before, fell from his fingerless hands, and as he watched the hands began to turn to dust. With the stumps of his arms, he tried to push himself off the throne, only to fall on to the ground when he found that his feet, too, had crumbled to dust. He crawled and wriggled, turning himself on to his back and looking up at the ceiling. “We had a deal!”
“So we did,” a disembodied voice said in reply. “And I am keeping my side of it. You will die with the dignity you deserve, Reichenbach, which is very little. You turned on your own kind to fulfil your own selfish goals. I may not be the most moral of beings, Toa, but even I have some standards.”
Reichenbach’s eyes widened as he saw the ceiling of the tower he sat in begin to crack, crashing in around him, as his body continued to fall apart, until a cry of pain and despair just managed to escape his lips as finally his mask alone was left, and the building fell with its one resident.
Back at the stage, everyone was panicking. Incommodo’s body lay on the stage, a pool of blood now around his head, as the storm clouds came closer and they saw that they were tumbling across land, not sky. The thick, black cloud soon covered all of New Atero, and when it was gone the city was all but empty, apart from the lone body of Incommodo, still lying on the stage. A hand, grey and red, picked up his wrist, examining it carefully. The being it belonged to looked down on Incommodo’s corpse with his bright green eyes, full of sorrow and somehow older than the face that they were set in. “No pulse.”
“Well, I guess we’re too late,” another being, black and green, replied, walking over to his ally. “So, Pirok, do you think we should get out of here before Nekron and his lackies storm the place?”
“Let’s, Proditor.” Pirok grinned, brushing some dust off himself as he stood up.
TO BE CONTINUED IN APRIL 2013
Posted Jun 10 2013 - 07:14 AM
[color=#4b0082;]Well this mightn't be April, but June is a lovely month too. It's the month when this all started, I believe. Almost a year since I started this topic. Happy almost-anniversary![/color]
[color=#4b0082;]But yeah. This has taken a while, so without any further waiting I present to you Chapter 19, effectively the prologue for this second part.[/color]
PART II: THE SURVIVORS
Our good friend Scratch made this, give him the credit.
Chapter 19 – Dystopia
Beneath the sickly violet sky, a creature scuttled from sight, removing itself from the path of a wagon rolling along the dead grey soil, pulled by two of Spherus Magna’s native animals, although the warped and twisted creatures resembled no pure species. The being at its front was a Bone Hunter, a slave trader, doubtless carrying Agori to be sold at one of the Glatorian villages near Necropolis. The closer one got to the City of the Dead, the looser their morals seemed to become. Of course, there were those of which this was not true – beings like the Bone Hunters, living life in shades of moral grey, and those such as the consistently heroic beings preparing an ambush on the wagon.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]The Glatorian hiding in the white grass at the roadside moved instantly, appearing as though from nowhere and cutting the bonds that attached the animals to the car, letting them run free. The Bone Hunter tried to join them in their escape, but a Glatorian clad in white with spiked armour and a wicked grin grabbed him from behind, taking his blade and slitting the slave trader’s throat in one swift movement.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]Another, his red and orange armour rippling like the flames it was forged in, unsheathed his sword and made to break the lock on the wagon with it. However, he was pushed aside by his companion, who removed a white axe from his back, its crystal blade breaking the lock cleanly in two as he swung the weapon down, and he and the Fire Glatorian moved as one to open the doors, before the latter entered it to unchain the Agori within. The sight he was met with instead was unexpected, to say the least.
His companion was keeping watch for other vehicles on the road, his back turned to the wagon, but he spun around as the other Glatorian cried out, seeing his friend thrown back as tendrils of shadow whipped out from the car. There was a sickening crack as he hit the ground, and the Ice Glatorian knew immediately that he was dead. A being, clad in black and green, descended from the car, looking down at the Fire Glatorian’s corpse without the vaguest hint of remorse. He was about the height of a Glatorian, and similar in appearance, but it was a broken reflection, more machine than man. The Ice Glatorian retreated into the grass before he was seen, spying on the new being who had emerged from the wagon. He had heard rumours and legends, speaking of the two machines with hearts of shadow and dreams of destruction, laying low in the past few years.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]Aerus had been among the select few distant enough when the Storm came to avoid its effects, a Glatorian trapped on Bota Magna at the time of the Shattering. Most of them were, the rebels. Rumour had it that when the Storm came the land died, and its morals with it. Approaching Necropolis this grew ever more clear, the minds of the people growing darker and more twisted in response to their proximity to the Place of Shadow.
The machines where thought to be Toa, beings that had come to the people of Bara Magna, bringing with them war and darkness. It was for them that the storm had come, wiping them out completely. But there were legends of survivors, and the being before him made him fear that they were true. He turned, and began his way away – he’d seen enough. Whatever that machine was, it had killed his friend, his ally. He wouldn’t let it get away with that. The machine would suffer justice, and it would suffer it from his hand.
The creature who had moved aside observed the events calmly, watching as a second being emerged from the wagon, this one dressed in red and gold.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]“You shouldn’t have done that, Proditor,” the being sighed, looking at his ally.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]“And why not? I like to think of it as having liberated him from the horrible life he would otherwise have led,” the being called Proditor smirked.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]“He could have been a helpful ally. We can’t be making enemies of everyone,” the other retorted. His name was Pirok, the creature knew, listening to the voice from the Cube. It had found the Cube a long time ago, searching through the wreckage of the tall tower after the Storm. It had been lying there under the rubble, along with a fanged mask, glowing softly. It had called to it. Krahl, it had said, You are very special. Pick me up, follow where I lead you, and you will have great reward. So Krahl did pick it up, and it had led it here. These two Toa were dangerous, it had told him. They wanted to take it away. That wasn’t nice of them. They weren’t nice Toa. They had just killed that red person, the Cube told it. Krahl wondered if it would be appropriate to wait and eat him, but the Cube disagreed. It thought it better to leave it, to follow the Toa, to see where they were going. Slit their throats in their sleep, it said, before they could steal it. Krahl liked that idea. He would stop the mean Toa before they could take away his Cube. Actually, the Cube thought, Krahl could help them. Krahl could make them trust it. It could lead them to the Place of Shadow, the Cube suggested, or to the meat-eaters. Anywhere. But they wouldn’t have the Cube, it warned, not at all. No, they couldn’t have it. They were bad people. They would do bad things with it. The Cube had to go home, to Necropolis, right at the very middle. That was where Krahl would take the Toa. Take them to their deaths.
[color=#ffffff;]---[/color]Krahl liked that idea. Krahl liked it a lot.
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