Harvali

IC “Collector” - Metru-Koro Collector nodded like a Gukko hovering, “oh of course, friends share things they own with each other. But be careful, my bike is not great at enduring all the dust, they might have crackled when it was jostled.” The tablets were carved from stone, engraved with simple notes written in Matoran. A few were crude sketches of the north of Zakaz, though the northeast was merely marked with a note saying “Main Skakdi fort here?” It might occur to Irna, that she had seen something not too dissimilar to the general shape of this map somewhere before. Other than that, there were some notes on Rahi and local plants, like notes on how Mahi horns might be useful for climbing tools or for the ends of pole-arms. OOC: @Conway the island is a version of Mata-Nui, so it should vaguely resemble the layout of Metru-Nui. @Unreliable Narrator Would any temples or ruins be noted on the rough map of northern Zakaz too?

IC Kanohi - Po-Koro Kanohi nodded slowly, “thank you for being clear, I am sorry for my rudeness. I will not bring that up again.” The Fe-Matoran could respect that, respect it more than if she had jumped at the chance. Well, of course he should respect a Toa regardless. But too much fighting had destroyed the universe, now was the time for rebuilding. “Kanohi,” Vakama ran up, “a Skakdi just threw a maskless Ko-Matoran at our gate. The Skakdi saids he runs this region. What … what do we do?” The Fe-Matoran swallowed, he should … just focus on small manageable tasks, don’t overwhelm himself with things beyond him. “Give the Matoran the spare mask you made, taking care of the Matoran is more important. And they might know something about this Skakdi. How injured are they? Where is Turaga Jovan?” ”The Turaga is trying to see which direction the Skakdi has left in, the Matoran seems a bit shaken and roughed up but he … we don’t think he will die.” Kanohi shook his shoulders, letting his armor of masks jingle. The sound was comforting, like chimes in the wind. “That is a relief, at least. I … Toa Nale, what do you think?” OOC: @Tarn … IC “Collector” - Metru-Koro Collector smiled like a frozen lake beginning to crack, “I shuttle messages and goods from Metru-Koro and the smaller refugee camps. Most are too poor to give anything but their … friendship, but that is more than enough of course. I just cane back from one of the more northern camps, they have sent some maps of the north and some notes on what Rahi and plants live there. Speaking of maps, have any of you found anything … interesting in the wilderness. I heard some have found strange temples out in the wilderness.” His eyes darted about between the group. OOC: @Conway

IC Kanohi - Po-Koro Kanohi sighed, “You are right. It’s … I don’t know if I can though. What … what do you think it was like, for the Skakdi-Xa? When Mata-Nui’s head crashed on Zakaz, covering their island in dust and ash? Do you think the crash devastated them too? What if their villages were crushed by us?” How many died because of the crash? And was … did Mata-Nui die because of the invasion? Was the crash because of all the death the war caused? Did Mata-Nui die because his insides were killing each other? ”Sorry,” Kanohi shook his head, “you are right, we should focus on helping each other. The good news is we got some more food from Metru-Koro, we got seeds for crops too, and we were able to give them some of our rough maps of the north. So the other refugees should be able to navigate to us easier, and we should’ve less at risk of starving. We don’t have many weapons still, but … sorry.” ”Um, that reminds me. I gave Dalu my disk launcher to protect the village, and she has my disks now, along with a few others. But she prefers her Vahki Staff of Confusion, since it lets her fight hand to hand and influence enemies from a range. She only uses the disk launcher because it’s a weapon we have. It’s not mine to give anymore, but if you want, I could ask her for one of the disks she has free, and if she has one free, Vakama and I could try to make a new weapon for you. It won’t be as good as your old rifle but, it’s an idea. If she agrees. Would you be interested maybe?” OOC: @Tarn

IC Kanohi - Po-Koro Kanohi looked away, “I should have done more though.” In the distance he could just about see the towering peak that was Mata-Nui’s severed head, a colossal wall that towered over the island and blotted out the very stars. He … how many had died in that wreck. How many did he fail to save? How many died? He shuddered and said, “Do … Do you think the surviving Leaguers will be content just staying in Metru-Nui? Not … coming here, or to Metru-Koro. Just ... ruling in the ruins? I … I don’t think either of us could survive another war. Not just us refugees, but even the league. So … so many dead, just because the Matoran honored Mata-Nui. And we have little here, there … would they really think it worth the effort to attack us again?” OOC: @Tarn

IC: Kanohi - “Po-Koro” Kanohi nodded, and tried to look at whatever she was staring at. He couldn’t really see anything, and his social missteps were buzzing in his head. Finally the Fe-Matoran said “Um, I … I am no Toa, but um, well, I know what you all have done for us. Fighting desperately to save us Matoran, risking your lives and bodies to keep us safe: you a Toa are the reason any of us are left alive. When I first came to Metru-Nui, I heard so many times people call the Matoran “the Heart of Metru-Nui.” You saved that heart, so Metru-Nui still lives. I mean, kind of at least. Sorry, what I mean is, if you ever need help, I can only hope we can repay you. That I can repay you.”

IC: Kanohi - “Po-Koro” Kanohi nodded with a crimson faced cloaked by his masks, there was not much else he could say about her leg. “Sorry,” he said simply, “um, you known Turaga Jovan has a … no, sorry, sorry.” His hands fluttered with unease, how could he even think that? He couldn’t offer her the Turaga’s Noble Kadin, even if it would let her move about more freely, it was the Turaga’s choice, his mask. He should have more respect for the Turaga even … even after Turaga Dume. Not that he really ever learned if Turaga Dume was behind Nuparu’s death. And even if they switched masks, she could use the Kadin, but her Mask of Speed would be useless for a Turaga. It just was … seeing a Toa hurt with a lasting injury, it was … it was unsettling. Of course he knew all too well Toa were not invincible but it was … he was letting her down, not mending her leg, and bringing up masks. Then, looking around, he realized something was missing. Or rather, someone. “Um, has Toa Arkius left to go hunting?” He asked. He had not really spoken to the Toa of Earth back in Metru-Nui, nor really in Po-Koro, but he was a Toa, that should b good enough. Toa Arkius had seemed to always stay close to Toa Nale, except when he went hunting. The Rahi he brought back kept the village alive, the refugees absorbed the energy from them they needed to keep going. … IC “Collector” Metru-Koro Collector … did not really know what to think of what the Toa meant about his mind being remade, but they figured they should say something. Something relevant specifically. So they just said, “well, I am glad for you that it has worked out as well as it had. I have managed to get by so far as well, things could be far better, but I’ve been making friends, that is far more important. Unity.” He whispered the last word like a hiss of the Great Furnace. OOC: @Tarn @Keeper of Kraata @Toru Nui

IC: “Collector” - Metru-Koro The lean Vortixx gripped their bike’s handles like they were strangling Ehlek himself. It was just how much the hover bike bucked and strained against the dust in the air, nor the irritating realization that they would have to repair it all over again. No, they were clenched up in a mix of fear and anger. They could tell the Matoran didn’t need them, they kept giving them odd looks, avoiding them. Kanohi didn’t even want them now. Collector was going to lose their friends, they will move on to better people like the Toa. And then, they would own nothing once again. They couldn’t — they wouldn’t. They just needed to be more like a Toa. That was the difference, the elemental powers and the masks. If they had that, then they would be able to keep possession of all their friendships. It was simple. As Collector approached Metru-Koro he … was well aware of how little his friends there had been able to give. There were maps of the region around Po-Koro, notes on indigenous Rahi or plants, but not much other than those stone tablets. Which was great, their friendship to Collector and Metru-Koro was more important than any object that could be broken or stolen. But they … if a Collector wasn’t a good enough friend, they would replace him with a Toa. As they skidded in front of the large refuge camp, they spied two Toa and a Zyglak standing at the gates. One had a vehicle parked nearby, did that mean they had traveled far. Their friendship could be helpful in more ways than just friendship. The Vortixx parked their hover bike besides the ground. “Hello, it is good to see such strong Toa and Zyglak, you all look quite noble and … friendly. I am Collector. How are you taking our isolation on this strange world?” Being nice helped win friends, right? OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Toru Nui @Conway

IC Kanohi - “Po-Koro” Kanohi walked up towards Toa Nale, it looked like she was staring away from the village, leaning on her makeshift spear much like he on his staff. And that staff felt heavy and utterly useless in his hand. What was the point of his new tool’s ability to regenerate if it couldn’t heal the injuries of a noble Toa? He shook his head he … he shouldn’t dwell on that. He was never going to make a big difference, as long as he did what he could, that was enough. And he was doing good, mending the vehicles, weapons, and metal homes of the village. He was helpful he-he had to believe that. Even if he let down Collector, though he wasn’t sure how he had. ”Um, hello, Toa Nale,” he cleared his throat as he walked up to the one Toa hero who had traveled with him that he knew was still alive, “how is your leg healing? I .. I am sorry I can’t help. But I have some good news, Vakama had forged a new mask, although it is powerless. Um, sorry, I … wasn’t thinking.” About how Nale’s old mask was next to useless with her limp.

Name: “Collector” Breed: Vortixx Faction: Metru-Nui Refugees? Brief Description: A lean Vortixx that is taller than a Toa but short of their breed, they are covered in black armor that has rusted to a burnt violet. Background/Occupation: a powerless Vortixx worker on Xia, as an outcast thru left for Metru-Nui long before the League arrived. There they built a small business of hover bikes, only for that to be destroyed by the invasion of Ehlek. In the chaos they witnessed Matoran working together to survive despite losing everything, falling back on their unity. They decided friendship must be incredibly valuable, and since most currency was useless on Zakaz, they became obsessed with friendship, using their remaining bike to travel to settlements trying to make friends. But it was clear that the Matoran prefer each other or the Toa to the other breeds of the GSR, so they became fixated on gaining powers like a Toa, so their new friends would not leave them and they wouldn’t be left with nothing again. Flaws: their psychological flaw that they do not understand how to socialize so they come off as super creepy and manipulative, likewise that they don’t fully understand friendship so they think it’s like owning people and them owning you in turn. They also are envious of the Toa, wishing to become like them to an obsessive degree. They are terrified of having nothing. In a fight, they do not have range abilities, and do not have the varied abilities of most breeds, making them less adaptable. They also have never fought before. Okay to die. Powers/Equipment: carries a Kanoka Blade with the power of freezing, to feel more like a Toa of Ice. They have a converted hover bike from Le-Metru, though it is prone to damage from dust storms or just desert terrain.

OOC: experimenting with font color IC: Kanohi - “Po-Koro” Collector thrust their blade into the ground, and from the cut ice spread out like a spiderweb. It shredded the barren rock, eroding it into something approaching soil. From there Kanohi leaned over and planted a seed, burying it underneath. It was not the richest soil, but it was better than the dry lifeless stone. ”So,” Collector cleared their throat as Kanohi used his staff to stand back up, “Vakama seems like a good mask maker.” ”Yes, he is a skilled crafter. He made me my staff.” Well, Kanohi was involved in a good portion of the creation process, but Vakama had given him the disk he used for the staff, and he did the hardest parts. ”Do … do you think he could make an elemental mask? Like a Garai?” ”I … um,” Kanohi shuffled in place, almost tripping as he accidentally strained his bad foot. He caught himself, and standing back he said, “Well, um, I think a Garai requires a disk charged with a Toa of Gravity’s power. That would be hard to find. Especially now. Or any elemental disk for that matter. But I can pass it along in case he finds one—” ”No,” Collector all but snapped, before forcing a smile, “um, that is, it was just an idea. I know resources are tight. I … I should probably head back to Metru-Koro. Maybe I will even see one of the Toa you described there.” ”Are you sure? I … if I misspoke—“ ”No, everything is great, don’t worry. And um, thank you for fixing my bike, friend. It was … very nice of you to offer.” ”Well if it needs more mending, let me know,” offered Kanohi, his hand waving less to say ‘goodbye’ and more because of the churning feeling that he had said or even done something wrong. Had he taken Collector for granted? Had he been rude? Regardless the Vortixx hooked his Kanoka Blade back to his side, and walked back towards his hover bike.

OOC: forgot about Kanohi’s disk launcher in his bio, hence the first paragraph. Also, testing out a possible new pc, just toying with the concept so far. IC Kanohi - Metru-Nui refugee camp “Po-Koro” ”Who is It?” Called out Dalu from her perch atop a makeshift stone tower. The small deformed Ga-Matoran was armed with Kanohi’s old disk launcher and a Vahki staff of Erasing, she knew how to fight, so it made sense for the one sorta weapon Kanohi had to go to one who would actually know how to use it. ”Looks like Collector,” Kanohi answered the sentry, before waving as the hover bike drove into the camp. It sputtered to a halt, and a lean Vortixx stepped off, towering over the biggest huts of the village. They wore no mask, but a Kanoka Blade with the power of Freezing hung on their side. ”Hello, friends,” the Vortixx added the second word hastily, their narrow eyes darting among the group. ”Hello, friend,” Kanohi nodded, “thank you for braving the journey.” ”Yes, well, friends do things like that. And you are my friends, my most valuable possessions.” The Vortixx looked among them with a sudden frenzy, staring intently at their faces. Despite Kanohi’s face being hidden. ”Um, okay. Do you need your bike mended?” ”Yes please, friend,” Collector nodded frantically, “and do not worry, you will be repaid. In friendship, as friends are so valuable they pay each other in friendship and not useless pieces of scrap like money, that are better melted down for tools.” They laughed like the wheeze of a furnace venting, Kanohi … did not know how to respond. So he just walked over to the bike and began to prod and tap individual parts of it with his Staff, mending it with each poke. His staff was not as powerful as a Noble Kiril, only made from a level six disk, but it still fairly powerful, and should not run out of energy unlike a disk. As he repaired the bike Collector stood about, eyeing him. ”So, alongside the food, for my friends, I have some seeds from Metru-Koro, engineered by a number of Bo-Matoran they should produce fast growing berry bushes, hopefully it can be a backup food source.” ”Thank you,” smiled Jovan as he hobbled over. He was a Turaga leading this camp, when the Barraki had clamped down on the Southern Continent, Dalu and him had evacuated their village, fleeing to Metru-Nui. And now that Metru-Nui had fallen, they had come here, protecting the Matoran who had made their way here. ”Collector, have … have you seen any new Toa in Metru-Koro.” ”Oh, right,” they looked away, “yeah, plenty are there. Do … do you want one to come next time?” ”Why would I want … oh my gosh I am so sorry,” Kanohi bowed deeply and his face blossomed into scarlet, “I did not need to be rude, I am just looking for some Toa, I left them in the invasion, and I do not know what happened to them.” ”Oh, okay.” They made a smile like a gash cut into a tree. ”…Your bike should be mended now, sorry.” Kanohi’s hands fluttered with guilt, “um, would you like to help me look for a place to plant those seeds, sorry? Um, you are very tall so you can see far, and your blade is good at cracking open the ground.” ”Thanks,” Collector nodded, “I would love to help, my friends. We … we still are friends, right?” Kanohi nodded aggressively like a buoy in a hurricane, and Collector leaned over, letting Kanohi grapple onto their shoulders. The two of them began to walk through the village, searching the ground.

@Smudge8 according to the discord, it’s the island of Mata-Nui, after being completely ravaged by Skakdi war bands. So chunks of the island were tore asunder, the forests have been pillaged, the Matoran and Toa native there were all but wiped out, it’s basically post apocalyptic 2001. Hopefully that helps.

IC Kanohi - Po-Koro Kanohi rested against the wall of the stone tent, resting. The refugee camp was nicknamed Po-Koro, for the Toa of Stone who had built it. Kanohi had not been here then, he never saw the Toa, but a part of him hoped it had been Toa Stannis who built this shelter. That Toa Stannis was alive. That Toa Stannis would know what they should do. He … he was scared to meet him though. Toa Stannis had a faith Kanohi had lost, he believed in Mata-Nui. And Kanohi believed in the Matoran and the three virtues, but he … he didn’t know if he could believe in the Great Spirit anymore. Not after the war. Not after Mata-Nui’s head was tore apart like a leaf. He was so tired. But he was alive. And he had the Matoran. And the Matoran would have him. The age-Matoran drew his staff and thrust it down, shoving himself upright. He began to walk away, looking over the village. As he walked he could see a dust cloud in the distance, a messenger from Metru-Koro then? Kanohi had heard that a surviving Turaga lead the refugees there, using his mask of growth to carve shelters for his people from the island itself, used his element to keep the Matoran cool and to help crops grow. How much of that was true, he didn’t know, it had only been a week. But it was … nice to hear a wise Turaga was left after the universe had ended. ”Good news, Kanohi,” a voice called out. The Fe-Matoran turned to see a familiar Ta-Matoran running towards him, a mask in his hands. “Yes, Tobduk Vakama?” “You um, you don’t need to call me that. I’m … you saved me, I didn’t survive. Just a freak.” He mumbled that last part. Kanohi turned to him, and said, ”We both are cross-wired freaks, and we both survived. If the title makes you uncomfortable, believe me I understand, I will say it no more. But you are a survivor, you survived the end of the universe. You, all of us are Tobduk now.” Vakama blushed, finding the approaching hover bike suddenly much more interesting. Kanohi understood that, and just stood there with him. Finally Vakama said, “um, well, what I wanted to tell you was that disk you gave me, it wasn’t wasted. We have a spare mask now, it’s only a Matoran Kiril, no power, but it could keep one of us awake.” ”Thank you, you have given us a lifeline.” ”It’s um, just my job.” “Yes, and you did your Duty well. It means we do not have to be perfect, we can make more m-mistakes now, without dooming our people.” Kanohi’s face beneath his many masks was a burnt crimson. He … he was no good at people skills, but he … he knew stuff like that had helped him, maybe it could help this Ta-Matoran mask maker. He … he hoped any of it helped. He so wished Toa Stannis would come to actually help the Matoran the right way. ”How … how do you keep going? Without Mata-Nui. You saw his death the same as I? How do you endure? ”I … I try to focus on what I can change, what tasks I can manage to do. I am not a Toa, not a Turaga, but I-I can help my fellow Matoran. That gives me a reason to keep going. I think … Mata-Nui would want us to help one another, even in his absence.” Vakama was quiet, as was Kanohi, and instead the two of stared off as the hover bike sputtered and shook as it traversed the rocks and sands of this land of Zakaz. It looked like it had suffered some wear and tear. He would mend it for the messenger, it was the least he could do.

IC Kanohi - Metru-Nui Refugee camp “Um, Kanohi, I’m sorry for the trouble, but last night’s dust storm broke windmill a blade. We worry throwing a disk at it might break it. Would you mind, if it’s not much trouble—“ “It’s okay, it is no trouble. I will help.” “Thank you. For everything.” “Th-thank you. But I am just doing what I can.” What little that was. Kanohi did not stand yet, his leg had been a bit damaged by the literal Fall of Metru-Nui, it was mending but his fully strength was not back yet. He reached into his rows of broken masks, and pulled a disk engraved with a Noble Kiril on it. He held it in front of him, and his fingers turned a gear built into its rim. The disk unfolded into four conjoined segments arranged like a long staff with two semi-circles on each end. He shoved it against the ground and shakily stood up, before walking across the village. It was small, much of it built by a Toa of Stone who had left to help other villages. Tnpse huts were literally made from the Toa causing flat spikes to grow from the ground, forming crude tents, Kanohi made his way through the village, before spotting the broken windmill at its center . It was a crude thing, made of scrap from Metru-Nui, its blades made from old Vahki staffs, and it hung more than spun now. Kanohi eyed the structures of the camp, before walking behind a stone hut. With a aim of his hands he fired a ball of gravity at the hut, vaulting it over it. He flew through the air, streaking past the windmill to get a better view. Finally, satisfied, he hooked the windmill itself and grappled up to it. He hung off the structure, before pressing his staff towards the broken blade. With a press of a button built into his handle, the staff glowed, and energy seeped into the windmill’s blade. Slowly the mechanism regenerated, metal growing from the stump like Toa Fehagah’s own power. As the windmill began to blow again the building rattled and shook, knocking Kanohi around. Before it could break he released his grip, before hooking another hut. He was whipped around to latch to the hut, before releasing his hold and smacking to the ground. ”Thank you.” ”It’s nothing. I … I am just going to lay here for a little bit. And um, if those heroes I told you about arrive…” ”If your companions appear, you will be the first to know.” ”Thank you,” Kanohi nodded vaguely, though his hands fluttered with unease. They weren’t really his companions, more like mentors. Still he just laid slumped against this hut, formed from three rocks jetting from the barren ground. The Fe-Matoran folded up his staff and just laid propped up there, panting, already tired beyond his years.

Name: Kanohi, has finally undergone Naming Day Breed: Fe-Matoran Faction: Metru-Nui Refugees Brief Description: An orange and black Matoran with a Hau for a Mask, has two devices built into his arms that let him grapple about, and is covered in metallic brown armor made from broken masks, carries a staff that can fold up into a disk. Background/Occupation: a Matoran originally from a remote island, he was a poor mask maker, and raked by anxiety over his failures and inadequacies. After the league destroyed his home he fled to Metru-Nui, only for that refuge to fall under the eye of the league too. Desperate to be useful and scared of the last Matoran refuge brings destroyed, he became a vigilante of sorts, using a Volo Lutu Launcher from his home to grapple across the cityscape and regeneration disks to mend collapsing buildings and bridges so Matoran could escape from league attacks. In the lead up to the fall, he tagged along with a few Toa and a Nynrah Ghost who suspected Turaga Dume had killed a Matoran. As he traveled with them and others he struggled with his anxiety, still helping the group in small ways, and gaining a little confidence. But he parted ways with the group as the invasion began, leaving to try to rescue the Matoran from the destriuction of the invasion. Though he saved some Matoran, the fall and the invasion left his people devastated. In the wake of the crash on Zakaz he has tried to protect the refugees, mending their tools and homes, while trying to rescue any of them hurt by the rough terrain of Zakaz. Flaws: still suffers a great deal of anxiety, is a bit unaware of other races, and after the destruction of Metru-Nui and the dead toll that followed he is terrified of letting people die, possibly to the point of interfering with even a Toa killing an enemy. There has just been far too much death. Powers/Equipment: Has two hi-tech Volo Lutu Launchers attached to his firearms, mask has been upgraded with a short range radio and a display for controlling his grappling, has the enhanced endurance of a Fe-Matoran, can on occasion experience confusing visions. He also has armor made from masks he failed to correctly forge long ago. Recently he and and a far better mask maker has forged a regeneration disk of his into a gadget that can unfold from a disk into a staff, whose touch can regenerate parts of objects with more control and more precisely than just hurling a disk. Resemblances to a Turaga’s Badge of Office were not his idea. Mostly the same as he was left at the end, but I had an idea for a new tool that would embarrass him.

Awesome, I didn’t know we would get a chance to react to the ending. Here we go.

IC Kanohi - the Fall of Mata-Nui Kanohi scooped up a Ta-Matoran as he hurtled last, carrying them across the rapidly collapsing bridge. The two of them landed in a heap, sprawled across the shattered street. The vigilante gasped out, before shoving his arms against the ground. The motion pushed him up, letting him sit up. His body ached as he sat there, breathing heavily. Just a little rest, then back into the fray. But then … there was a quake. Not the quake of a building collapsing, or the destruction of a bridge, this was older and deeper. Like the mountains and oceans themselves let out a breath cut short. Then came another rumble, and another. Kanohi stared at the increasingly trembling world around him, was this because of the war? Was the island itself damaged? Beyond the crumbling homes of Matoran? Or was … was this something else, something the chaos of the war had masked? ”Hey, hero?” He could hear a Matoran ask for a Toa, but none seemed to be in sight. And then he felt a hand grasp his wrist. ”Um, mister hero?” the Ta-Matoran said as he looked straight up at Kanohi. The Fe-Matoran felt his face blossom crimson as the Matoran said, “it’s not much, but you could get more out of these than me.” The Matoran of Fire nudged towards Kanohi two Kanoka, both regeneration disks with a level of — 6? Kanohi had never seen such a powerful disk up close, nearly powerful enough to make a noble mask. “I … I couldn’t—” “Please. You can travel around and repair the city quicker than I could. And I’m not the kind to be a hero, I’m just a freak.” The vigilante looked at the Ta-Matoran, his Huna staring up at Kanohi, almost like a Matoran seeing a Toa for the first time. Kanohi felt his armor of broken of masks shake, almost in tune with the growing tremors. ”I am a freak too,” Kanohi said finally, almost squeaking out, “and a failure. But by working together, we Matoran can do great things. Remember the virtue of unity, even now.” Shakily he reached for the disks, and then before the mask maker’s eyes, Kanohi’s hands began to tremble, his breathing speed up, and his eyes poking out from under his mask seemed to widen into disks. ”Is-is something wrong? Do … you see it too, don’t you?” ”Just an … a dream.” Kanohi stood up, picking up the disks. Ashe looked over them, both seemed to be from Le-Metru, the district he had just been straining to rescue Matoran from. Maybe … maybe that effort was pointless ultimately. But … but it was better to try, then to abandon his unity and his duty. The vigilante aimed his hand towards a half-destroyed skyscraper, and then to the Ta-Matoran he said, “I … you should head underground, or maybe board an airship and drift between Metru-Nui and the stars. But stay somewhere either reinforced or isolated, hopefully both. I … I can’t explain it more.” And then he grappled away, hurling himself into the air, as the tremors continued, and a terrible creaking sound began to travel down both ground and sky. As he grappled about he could see the Silver Sea and its canals squirmed, the waterways of Metru-Nui growing shallow as the Liquid Protodermis drained from the city. As he swung Kanohi could see the stars began to flicker and shift as rapidly and random as his own heartlight, frantic and unbalanced. He … he didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he knew his duty to the Matoran, and his unity with his people. And hopefully, that would be enough. Even as a universe died…

OOC: probably the last Kanohi post of Escapement, it’s been a pleasure, see you all next season. IC Kanohi - the Coliseum Border with Le-Metru Why were Matoran put in the universe? Just to suffer? Where was Mata-Nui during all this destruction? Why was he letting the league slaughter millions, destroy whole civilizations? Why was he letting the powerless Matoran be butchered? Kanohi … did not know. He didn’t know how Mata-Nui could let this happen. He was not smart enough, not wise enough. As towers crumbled, bridges collapse, and the very island seemed to shatter, there … there was no point. The war was senseless. All these deaths, all this art, technology, homes and airships destroyed … there could not no meaning from it. And if … if a Turaga told him that something good could come from this horror … Kanohi honestly didn’t know what he would do. There was no point, no lesson, no moral. Just genocide and destruction. It was the end of the universe, at least the end of its time as the Matoran Universe. But still, Kanohi grappled. He launched across the city, swiping Matoran off crumbling bridges and collapsing skyscrapers, freezing and mending the structures long enough for the Matoran to evacuate. It was … all he could do. He was not the savior of Metru-Nui, not a brilliant Nynrah Ghost, not a noble Toa nor a wise Turaga. He was powerless in the face of the city’s horrid destiny. Nothing he did could change how the war would end. Nothing he did would matter in the face of this war. So all that mattered, was what he did. Small tasks, manageable tasks. Catch the Matoran, mend the bridge enough for a crowd to flee across, remove the poison from a crowd caught up in a caustic cloud, just … do what he could in this end of days. His hands trembled, his heartlight pounded like a dwindling flame, he could feel his gears twirl in his chest. But he would keep going. He had his duty to the Matoran, he believed in them, even if Mata-Nui had failed them, he would not abandon his fellow Matoran. And so he kept lunging into the fray, devoted to saving as many as he could from the war even as his body rattled. For Unity. For Duty. For the Matoran.

IC Kanohi - the Coliseum Border with Le-Metru The skyscraper crumbled like a clump of sand, Matoran fleeing underneath. They were most made up of Le-Matoran refugees, clumsy on the ground and overwhelmed by the destruction of their homes, they were too slow and would not make it to safety in time. At least, without help. Kanohi fired one of the freezing disks he was given, the stronger of the two. It slammed into the side of the skyscraper, plastering it in ice. Crystalline cold spread across it like a shadow, acting as a crude paste. The building’s collapse slowed to a crawl, still doomed but now it’s destruction was literally and figuratively frozen. The vigilante grappled past and caught the disk, stowing it away before hooking another building. From his perch he fired one of his regeneration disks, mending a bit more of the support beams. He hurled across the street and grabbed that disk too, as the Matoran underneath fled for safety. There was a sound not unlike a massive Ussal Crab clicking, and Kanohi turned his head around to see another building crumbling. Debris from the second slammed into the first shattering and breaking his ice. And he could still see a few Matoran under the collapsing structure’s shadow. Swallowing, Kanohi grappled under the collapsing building, arm outstretched. As he launched past his elbow hooked a Matoran, wrenching her free of the crumbling structure. The two Matoran tumbled into a heap and Kanohi shoved himself upright. He turned to lunge back into the chaos, only to see both skyscrapers collapse in an explosion of dust. He stared at the destruction there … there were definitely Matoran still trapped in there, now crushed like leaves. Like snow beneath a Ko-Matoran foot. ”Mister, we need to go,” the Matoran he had rescued tugged on him, and Kanohi shakily nodded. Hope … hopefully they would find peace on the Red Star. Or … or if … at least they would be remember by the living. He certainly would not forget them, what little he saw. Numb and disassociated, he grabbed the blue Matoran and grappled away, flinging away from the shock wave of dust with each blast of his Volo Lutu Launchers.

Hooray, no tpk!

So for the first few months of 2020 I have been posting a bunch of my short stories on BZPower, most of them connected to versions of my vigilante Fe-Matoran character “Kanohi.” Because if you are going to make a Bionicle superhero, there are worse names than “Mask.” The story concept was a Matoran who would protect his fellows, guided by visions like Vakama had in LoMN. Because I freaking love the idea of that glitch. He would never become a a Toa, if fact his Destiny would be to always be a Matoran, never to transform. Since then I have explored a version of Kanohi over in the RPG topic, one who is a bit more of a mess than the one in these short stories. He’s a lovable mess though. He still can be a bit of a mess here, but in these stories he’s been a vigilante for at least a few centuries, he’s a bit more confident and a lot more experienced. Either way he continues to grapple around on Volo Lutu Launchers, helping the Matoran he can. Point is, I figured I should make a little library for these short stories, in case anyone is interested in reading the adventures of Kanohi, outside of the Six Kingdoms RPGs. They are all fairly short, no epics so far, and if I do make an epic I don’t think it would involve Kanohi much, and instead would be about a version of the Toa Inika. Spoilers for one of my continuities though. Anyway, please enjoy these short stories about a Matoran vigilante trying to protect his people. sprite made with the Danska’s Bionicle Builder sprite kit Kanohi: Core The Core Universe Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: The short story that started it all, this takes place in the island of Mata-Nui, during the events of the Mask of Light movie. This short story is removed from most of that movie’s plot, just him rescuing some refugees from Ta-Koro from a Rahi. This story is canon to both the Core Universe, the Kingdom, and an alternate universe based off the vision Karzahni showed Jaller in the book Dark Destiny. The Willing Exiles: A short story taking place post Mask of Light, in the months when the Turaga tell the legends of Metru-Nui. For some Matoran there is a disconnect with the great city, they feel no attachment to it, Mata-Nui is their home. For others, the revelations the Turaga give are almost a betrayal, as the knowledge they withheld could have helped some outcasts be less isolated. Kanohi feels both, and his bond with Turaga Vakama is damaged. New The Tool of a Matoran a.k.a The Kanoka Project: While not necessarily taking place in the core universe of Bionicle, this story takes place in a timeline after the main storyline. Marendar and Velika both perished, but not after the Toa became extinct and every last Toa Stone was destroyed. In this new era Matoran seek new protectors, and have begun experimenting on themselves to create artificial Toa. In this time a Ga-Matoran joins an experiment to become empowered, unaware of ulterior motives behind the project. Kanohi: Fear In the book Dark Destiny, Jaller witnessed a vision of a world where he did not sacrifice himself for Takua. The Chronicler was killed, the Toa Nuva were overwhelmed, and the island of Mata-Nui fell into everlasting shadow. Of course, this vision does not make sense in canon, as Teridax would not be content to rule a mere island, nor kill the Toa Nuva. So instead of adhering strictly to the vision, I used it as a springboard for a world without a Toa of Light. It is a dark age, Ta-Koro and Onu-Koro destroyed, the Turaga imprisoned, a horde of Rahkshi enforce their Master’s law, all while six false Toa encourage the Matoran to submit to the Makuta. Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: also canon to this reality. The Company of Cowards: In this short story thirty seven Matoran flee for the south, guided by visions Kanohi has had of another island. Among the voyagers are the Chronicler’s Company, Nuparu, and Hewkii, all hoping to find asylum from the Makuta, and hopefully allies to free Mata-Nui. A Village Against the Rahkshi: Things have changed drastically for the Matoran, both the refugees of Mata-Nui and the hardy folk of Voya-Nui. With the Chronicler’s Company gone to fulfill two desperate destinies, the remaining Matoran find themselves under attack as six Rahkshi land on their island, searching for the escaped refugees. The Matoran of Mata-Nui only know fear from the Rahkshi, but the Voya-Nui Matoran have not been beaten yet. Kanohi joins them with his Volo Lutu Launchers in defending their village from the Rahkshi, but he strangely requests the Matoran capture and not kill the Rahkshi’s Kraata. What has he foreseen? Those We Choose to Forget: A story taking place in a poor village of Mahri-Koro on the shores of Aqua-Magna, millennia after the Makuta’s defeat. Here Turaga Macku is swimming, when the Chronicler of Spherus-Magna comes on a visit, asking for a forgotten tale. Kanohi: Kingdom The Universe of the Kingdom of the Great Spirit, the universe Takanuva visited on his journey to reach Karda-Nui. Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: also canon to this reality. The Willing Exiles: also canon to this reality A Restless Freak in Paradise: A short story about a version of Kanohi in the Kingdom Of the Great Spirit, years after Takanuva visited it, but before the people all migrated off Aqua-Magna. In this era of peace, where the Toa no longer protect the Matoran what use is a near powerless vigilante. Kanohi: Rebirth An alternate timeline spinning off of Six Kingdoms Escapement, where a version of Kanohi in his past experiences a vision of the events of the first season of the incredible Bionicle RPG. Knowing that his homeland may be destroyed, he resolves to become a vigilante hero early, to prevent the horrible future from coming to pass. The Impact of a Rebirth: After having a vision of a future, noted failure Kanohi resolves to help his Toa and his island as a vigilante. His first struggle? To help rescue Matoran as a fire raged in their swamp of an island. Kanohi: BZPRPG Kanohi was originally created as the amnesic Fe-Matoran Dece for Act One of the BZPRPG. He was a member of Stannis’s Companions, but after the group disbanded he did not show up for almost a decade. Now as Act 3 begins much has changed, Dece is older, more paranoid, and more desperate to prove he has value. Whatever happened in the interim, he now has adopted the vigilante identity of Kanohi, grappling through Le-Wahi helping travelers and Rahi alike. Other Stories Interview with a Supervillain: Ultra Agents came out during my “Dark Age” but a few years ago I discovered their sets, and was enamored by their villains. Struck by how LEGO often makes their own villains, but rarely their own original superheroes, and the fact that “Tox” was a hero of sorts in the Ninjago show, I wrote this story about a former villainess running into an old adversary. It’s a little preachy, I was less subtle back then, also was in a mood, but if you want a story about a vigilante and a former ultra agent being more than a little gay, here you go.

IC Kanohi - the Coliseum’s Border with Le-Metru Kanohi continued to gasp out, catching his breath. He was vaguely aware of Matoran retreating past him, the surviving Vahki evacuating them towards the Coliseum. That was … that was a relief. Get them out of harm’s way, get them to safety. It was … it was rare to see the Vahki actually help the Matoran, it was good to see that they had found their true Duty at last. The vigilante shakily stood up, before spotting the 531 Kanoka at his feet. He looked around, most of the Le-Matoran had already fled, just stragglers were fleeing the district of air. And he ... he was never great at recognizing Matoran, but he didn’t think the Le-Matoran who gave him this disk were still here. Then there was a pop like a Toa of Air going Nova, and Kanohi turned to see a building crumbling. He … he would have to return this disk another day, same as the other one. He pocketed the disk of freezing, he had little skill with Le-Metru disks, but he would need all the help he could get. With a point of his wrist he grappled into the air, before hooking a building. He vaulted and swung, searching for any Matoran caught in harm’s way. Maybe even try to help the Vahki too. They might have clockwork brains, but they were giving their all for the Matoran now. They all had to stand united in this darkest hour.

IC Kanohi - the Coliseum’s Border with Le-Metru Other Matoran were there now, some of the Bo-Matoran refugees and a few Ga-Matoran had pushed Kanohi aside to tend to the injured Le-Matoran. They worked to pump the Liquid Protodermis from the Matoran’s lungs, helping them breathe. It was slow work, but gradually the rescued victims of the collapsed bridge were recovering. But others remained in the metallic water. Kanohi grappled down to skim the waves, scooping up Le-Matoran from the canal before dropping them by the medics. The number of Le-Matoran fleeing the district was dwindling, but surely there were more in Le-Metru? Had they already surrendered? The Fe-Matoran flinched at the thought, but the Toa were headed there to rescue the district. They would succeed where he would have failed. As he scooped up the last of the Matoran, he looked into the canal at the chunk of ice drifting inside the waterway. There were a number of Matoran clinging to it, and that Kanoka was still inside. Bracing himself, he fired both of his Volo Lutu Launchers, latching onto both the ground of Metru-Nui and the floating island of ice. His servos and pistons strained as his launcher tore him in different directions, but he held, his physical stamina enduring. Then with a boom the ice chunk went flying, smashing onto the shore. Kanohi fell to his knees, panting, as the medics rushed to those Le-Matoran. He struggled to breathe, his body aching, even as a Le-Matoran dropped that freezing disk at his feet. He … he needed to rest a bit, but at least the Matoran had escaped the canal.

So I got laid off because of the coronavirus, and I have a cold. I hope it’s a cold. It’s not my best week, and a lot of folks have it worse. So as a distraction, I wrote a new Kanohi story. This is actually a sequel to my last short story, The Company of Cowards, which takes place in a universe inspired by the vision Karzahni showed Jaller in Dark Destiny. Both stories are also sequels to my original Kanohi Short Story; Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes, though that one can fit into a couple universes like the Kingdom and the Core Reality. Point is, here is a new story about a grappling vigilante Fe-Matoran, with him back in the lead role. Please enjoy, at the least it’s a bit of a distraction. A Village Against the Rahkshi … Kanohi wiped the large wooden mask, a powerless mask carved in the shape of a noble Ruru. He hooked it atop his head, covering him a strange tribal appearance. He breathed steady, hands shaking. He … he had put on a brave face for the other Matoran, but here, the fear came out. He was not a Po-Matoran. He was a Fe-Matoran. And Vakama would have known that. His visions of an underground world under attack by monstrous spiders and Rahkshi, those were real, but Vakama had lied and said those visions were not so literal. There was so much Vakama had never told him. So much he still would not know if not for Axonn. So much of what he knew over the past millennia was just … lies. He understood the need for secrecy, he might have left Mata-Nui to help the underground Matoran, many would have. And despite Vakama’s mentoring, Kanohi was an outcast, a vigilante who did not belong to any one Koro but helped all Matoran. If people far away had needed him more, he would have left Mata-Nui with regret but resolve. But even though he understood by the Turaga had lied, it stung like a hundred Nui-Kopen. And it still wasn’t right. Necessary maybe, but not right. Kanohi held out his orange and black arms. Like the rest of his body they were plated with wooden masks, but sticking out of his firearms right before his wrists were small launchers. Between the technology of Voya-Nui weaponry, and the inventiveness of Nuparu, the Fe-Matoran had been able to get upgraded again. He how had two Volo Lutu Launchers; one built into each arm, to let him grapple across the jungle with ease. Even the strange jungle of Voya-Nui. Satisfied at his arms, he pulled out his lighter, gazing into the flame. As the fire danced he could see image dance in the embers. That was one honest thing Vakama had told him at least, how to focus his strange ability to prophesies with fire. Within the flickering flames he could see three of the new Toa; Macku, Kapura, and Hafu, all sailing with Hewkii and Axon. They were traveling back towards the island of Mata-Nui through the gloom of night, only the Red Star breaking the endless void of blackness. Axonn rowed and Macku pushed the ship with her elemental power, waves splashing from each push. As water foamed in their wake, the white bubbles broke apart like clumps of wet sand, before crumbling into an avalanche. Kanohi tried to grapple away, but it soon was upon, smothering him in darkness. He shivered in the gloom, before red rusted eyes consumed his sight, and a terrible voice shouted, “where is the Mask of Time!” “Kanohi, sir?” The autistic vigilante spun around, his hands shaking, his heartlight pounding beneath his wooden masks. Piruk flinched at his outburst, and Kanohi tried to settle his breathing. “Yes, brother?” “I … I was surveying the northern coast with Dalu, she enhanced my sense and … there are strange reptilian creatures flying this way. Six of them, all yellow, holding staffs.” “Rahkshi of Heat Vision,” Kanohi sighed like a hovercraft’s engine dying, “the Makuta has found us. Has Garan and Dalu already rallied the Matoran?” “Um yes.” “Is Brutaka joining us?” “No he … he says six Rahkshi are not worth his time.” “I think he will change his tune if we capture some Kraata,” Kanohi stood up. That was another thing Vakama had trusted him with, even more than all Matoran. The only Matoran to ever go hunt Kraata with the Turaga were Matoro and Kanohi, though more as bait than as fighters. “What are Kraata?” “What controls a Rahkshi, the Rahkshi is just a suit of armor a Kraata controls. They are not very smart, but they are dangerous, and can corrupt masks.” Kanohi stretched, adjusting his wooden masks one more time, before saying, “Piruk, I know this is a lot to ask, but report back to Garan, he might need you to report to the other village, and he will need to know these are Rahkshi of Heat Vision.” “M-m-me?” “We all must do our part. With half of the Toa Inika heading to liberate Mata-Nui from the Makuta and his false Toa, and the other half moving to find the Mask of Life, we need all of us Matoran working together. You don’t need to fight, just transmit news between the Matoran.” “R-right, easy. Well, you know what Balta always says…” “…You don’t need to be a Toa to be a hero,” Kanohi nodded, walking out of the hut. Looking about he aimed his right arm to a tree, and a sphere of gravity blasted out of his built-in launcher. It slammed into the treetop, and then in a rush the raw gravity pulled, ripping Kanohi off the village clearing and into the air. As he hit the tree he fired from his left arm, grappling to another tree. He ricocheted from tree to tree, patrolling the village even as other Matoran ran about in preparation for the Rahkshi. … Dalu focused her Chargers as a Rahkshi flew overhead, a tight glare in her optics. With some strange power emanated from her silver blades, striking the beast. As the beast turned towards her it lurched, suddenly as heavy as a Kikanalo. The Rahkshi plummeted like a stone, smashing into the ground with a resounding thud. She ran at the beast, but as she drew close it glared it’s eyes at her, and twin beams of burning energy slammed into her. She wheezed in pain, before that wheeze ignited into anger. “I am not so easily cowed!” The Ga-Matoran snarled, balancing on one arm and her legs. With some strain she fired her Chargers again, this time at the ground beneath the Rahkshi. The earth beneath the beast began to crumble, eroding what should take centuries in a matter of seconds. The Rahkshi was buried, and she slumped over, panting. “Take … that … Rahi,” she managed to shout. Using her Chargers was a big drain, she would need to rest or risk passing out— There was a hiss as beams of red hot flame erupted from the rubble, carving a hole in the debris. She stared up as the Rahkshi dragged itself out of the earth, its armor now scratched up, its legs sparking from when it fell from the sky. The mechanical puppet stepped towards her, its movements jerky like a Rock Ussal scuttling towards its prey. Two blasts of heat vision fired at her, but before it could hit a Ta-Matoran lunged in the way. Balta crossed his Repellers in front of Dalu, the weapons absorbing the full blast of the Rahkshi’s energies. And then with a thrust of his shoulders the Repellers hurled the energy back at the Rahkshi, frying it like the best Toa of Fire. The Rahkshi nearly collapsed, sparking as it used its staff to hold itself upright. With a cock of irs head it fired more heat vision, but not at Balta. The blasts struck a nearby tree, dropping it like a stone. Balta sounds around to repeal the falling tree— Two blasts of heat vision slammed into the Ta-Matoran, sending him tumbling. The good news was that thanks to the blast, the tree had missed hitting him. But the bad news with his injuries, he wasn’t able to lift up his Repellers, too aching from the blow. Balta’s head rolled over to take in the Rahkshi, just as a blur swung through the canopy. As another blast of heat vision flew at the Ta-Matoran a hand grabbed his arm, before grappling away in an instant. The heat vision ignited the tree, but no Matoran was hurt. Kanohi and Balta landed in a roll, as the damaged Rahkshi turned back towards them. Kanohi swallowed and fired a ball of gravity at the Rahkshi, and in a rush was hurled into the beast. He slammed into the servant of the Makuta, knocking it to the ground. As the Rahkshi shakily stood up Kanohi grappled away, calling out, “i-is this the best the M-M-Makuta’s son can do? To lose to three powerless Matoran?” If the Rahkshi was smart enough to understand and insult, it was hard to tell, but it immediately began to fire heat vision after Kanohi, blasting after him like a rampage Muaka. As the forest ignited, Balta suddenly felt some of his strength returning, his injuries mending just a little. There was a thud behind him, and he turned to see Dalu collapse again. She had enhanced his ability to heal. As the Rahkshi fired at Kanohi, the vigilante heard Balta call out, “over here.” The Fe-Matoran obliged, grappling besides Balta. The Rahkshi fired another pair of beams of heat vision, only for Balta to repel them. The blast pounded into the Rahkshi, shattering it in a fiery explosion. “We … we … killed a Rahkshi,” Kanohi managed to squeak out, dropping to his knees. “It’s not over yet,” Balta struggled to stand, putting his hands on Kanohi’s shoulder. The vigilante turned to see the Kraata had burst free of the Rahkshi, and was now oozing towards them. With a nod Kanohi drew a small capsule from his pack, and grappled over to the Kraata, slamming the capsule on top of it. The slug hissed and squirmed as he slid the lid underneath, sealing it away. “Try to rest,” Kanohi urged Balta, “watch over Dalu until she has recovered. I need to hurry back to the village, the bulk of the Rahkshi are headed there.” “Understood, Kanohi.” Balta lay down besides his fellow Matoran, as theFe-Matoran turned, hooked a tree and grappled away, launching his way through the jungle of Voya-Nui. … “Come on, Velika,” urged Kazi, uncharacteristically aggravative, “that Rahkshi is attacking the village, we need to form a Kaita.” “No,” Velika said blunt like a hammer. It was in fact unusually bluntly for Velika, no annoying sing-songs riddles of poems, just a blunt answer. Normally this would strike Kazi as odd. But since there was currently three large reptilian beasts the size of a Toa igniting the hunts and frying the Matoran, Kazi was not in the mood to ponder this. In fact all he could manage to say was simply “Why the Karzahni not?” “We don’t have time for this,” said Garan as he fired a blast from his Pulse Bolt Generators, the pulse flying through the air, growing larger and larger as it flew before pounding the Rahkshi with explosive force, “Piruk, Kazi, we will form the Kaita.” “M-me?” “Yes,” nodded Garan, “just concentrate on our unity, it should be much less of a strain than forming a Matoran Nui.” “I … I will try.” The three Matoran drew close to one another, holding hands as the village burned. Then in a flood of light they merged together, their green, brown, and black bodies fusing into one large Matoran. “Incredible, and I thought the strength we got from Nuparu’s upgrades was intense,” the fusion declared, eyeing his arms and his new two-pronged blades, “but this is on a whole mother level.” The fusion turned towards the rampaging Rahkshi and slammed his blades together, unleashing a powerful burst of sound that only grew sharper and louder as it flew. It slammed into a Rahkshi, sending sparks raining from it like an afternoon rain. The other Rahkshi turned, just as the fusion charged the first Rahkshi, slicing its staff in two. “That, is the power of our unity,” the fusion declared, before slicing and hacking his blades at the Rahkshi. The other two charged at the fusion, and the fusion only laughed boisterously, before lunged at them with clean sweeps of his blades. … “A Matoran Kaita,” Kanohi shook his head in amazement. It was … awe-inspiring to see this penultimate act of the Virtue of Unity, to see Matoran become one in drive and purpose. The giant was a little taller than a Toa, and was a flurry of sound and slashing. It was… Suddenly Kanohi spied a flash of red, and grappled to the side, avoiding a blast of heat vision. He did not have time to witness the unity of the Matoran, there were lives to save first. The vigilante grappled around, his wooden masks thumping and flanging as it went. The sensation the sound gave was oddly comforting to the autistic Matoran, grounding. It kept him calm, as calm as he could be in this moment of raw chaos. Plumes of smoke erupted from huts, ash plummeted to earth as if Mount Valami was erupting, buildings collapsed in explosion of splinters and Matoran collapsed, their metal flesh smoldering from being hit with heat vision. It was … it was just like when Mata-Nui fell. His hands trembled at the memory of Ta-Koro burning in the lava, the smell of roasting Matoran, the crushed remains of Onu-Koro, the sheer destruction caused by the first six Rahkshi, the Matoran of those villages sent as refugees to Po-Koro, to serve the will of the Makuta, then the arrival of those false Toa Piraka— And then he heard the jingling of his armor, and Kanohi let out a breath. They … they had defeated one Rahkshi, that was more than the Turaga ever had. The Matoran of Voya-Nui were strong, they … they could handle six Rahkshi. And since these were all the same type of Rahkshi, they couldn’t physically form a Kaita, same as how three Matoran of Fire couldn’t combine together. And that gave the Matoran a bit of an advantage. Kanohi swooped down towards a burning hut, scooping up a Ko-Matoran. His pistons and servos strained against the weight, but he was a Fe-Matoran, he naturally had better endurance than the average Matoran, and that was before he had been rebuilt to be stronger. Why didn’t you tell me that, Vakama? Just tell me the reason I was such a poor Po-Matoran was because I was not a Matoran of Stone at all, but a Matoran of Iron. The vigilante launched away from the fire, the Ko-Matoran in hand. Finally they tumbled to the ground, now away from the blaze. The vigilante stood up as the Ko-Matoran bolted, signing as the Matoran ran. It … his memories bubbled up inside him, the Toa Nuva could not stand against the Rahkshi, how could a village of Matoran? But he did not have the luxury to be lost in fear. Matoran were in trouble, he could not let Voya-Nui fall too. And he … he was a vigilante hero, he had protected the Matoran for centuries before the Toa arrived, protecting them from wild beasts, capturing Kraata, he was a hero. Not a Toa, but still a hero none the less. Kanohi swallowed, and then grappled back into the fray. … Nuparu slashed with his new electro-blade, frying a Rahkshi’s ankles. He was no great warrior, not the kind to become a Toa, but he had already fled the Rahkshi once, he would not do it again. As the Onu-Matoran lunged out of the way of the Rahkshi’s stomping foot, the fusion charged forward, skewering the Rahkshi’s central compartment. Ooze drooled out from the wound, and the foul smelling fluid pooled into the village center. The Rahkshi swayed, before collapsing down at Nuparu— Only for Kanohi to grapple past and carry the inventor to safety. The vigilante rolled on the landing before grappling away, streaking past the Kaita. “Please try not to kill the Kraata. I have had a vision about the Kraata, we need them to get Brutaka on our side.” “Why?” The fusion startled, “how would that convince him?” “I think he can eat them.” “Eat, like those Piraka you talked about?” The fusion stared after the vigilante, his mouth agape under his mask. Then a blast of heat vision hit him in the back, sending him tumbling. Kanohi swerved in midair and grappled back towards the fusion, as a Rahkshi focused his heat vision at the Kaita. The fusion shuddered, as two more Rahkshi flew into view. The three remaining ones were converging here now. Suddenly one of the Rahkshi became a blur, blasting forward at an inhuman speed. It slammed into a tree, shattering the wood with explosive force. As it stood there dazed Dalu stumbled out, stabbing it with her Chargers. She forced the Kraata’s compartment open, exposing the puppeteer. The slug hissing before lunging at her mask, only to be flung back by Balta’s Repellers. The Kraata smacked to the ground, right as Velika ran up to seal the stunned slug away. And then there was a boom. With explosive force the fusion separated, broken up by the barrage of heat vision. Piruk, Garan and Kazi were flung apart and landed with a resounding thud, too exhausted to function. Kanohi turned to the three other Matoran and said, “can you form a Kaita?” “No, not compatible,” answered Velika quickly. Balta and Dalu gave him a look, and he added, “if the Muaka falls, the Kane-Ra will not do better.” “…Okay. Then I’m try to distract them while you get these three to safety.” “I am not just running from these brutes,” Dalu all but snarled, and Kanohi let out a grin. It was good to see a Matoran who still had that much fire. “Fair enough, then we’ll fight them while Nuparu and you two take the fallen to safety.” “Right—” Heat vision swept at the ground, but Kanohi grappled a nearby tree, hooking Dalu and dragging her out of the way. He swung her as he flew past a Rahkshi, and she lunged at the beast, stabbing it in the eyes. The beast staggered about, and she slashed her Chargers against its thighs. Her friends’ fusion had really done a number on these Rahkshi already, now was just clean up. And as the beast crumbled, she stabbed it through the head, letting a noxious ooze drip out. Kanohi meanwhile was darting around the last Rahkshi, grappling back and forth. It’s heat vision pursued him, try to catch up. And then suddenly it pivoted around, aiming for Piruk. Immediately Kanohi broke left and grappled the Rahkshi, slamming into it. The beast stumbled, heat vision going wild, even as Dalu stabbed it in the head. There was a hiss as the slug dissolved, leaving a black stain on the ground below. And then the Rahkshi collapsed with a thud. Kanohi fell to his knees too, panting, while Dalu kicked the beast and shouted, “yeah, that’s how we do things in Voya-Nui!” … “Incredible,” Brutaka laughed like an avalanche, “I feel … incredible.” The titan slammed his fist against the mountain, shattering a crater in its side. He smirked beneath his strange mask, before punching the mountain again, and again, laughing to himself. As boulders fell Kanohi hooked a tree behind Garan and grappled, catching the Onu-Matoran’s wrist and dragging him to safety. The two Matoran tumbled into a heap, as Brutaka laughed. “And you little creatures killed these Rahkshi on your own?” He shook his head as he smashed open another capsule and slurped out the slug like a Rahi lapping water. He began to glow with more energy, the air rippling around him like the tip of Mount Valami. “Pity you only recovered three of these Kraata,” he scowled. “There are many more on Mata-Nui. And it’s said they are created from the essence of the Makuta himself. So the Turaga say.” Though they will lie if they wish. “Oh I know a lot about the Brotherhood of Makuta,” Brutaka laughed, standing up on his long gold and blue legs, “I’ve fought Rahkshi before too. But to eat one? I never even dreamed…” Under his mask Brutaka sneered, “I think I will visit this island of yours after all,” Brutaka decided, and his mask began to glow. Before the two Matoran’s eyes space rippled and ruptured, until a tear in reality formed. And within the rift, Kanohi could see a very familiar beach. “You could teleport that far?” Garan declared, “then why make your brother Axonn sail to Mata-Nui? Why not help evacuate my people’s northern brothers and sisters?” “I didn’t see the point,” Brutaka answered, before stepping through the portal. And behind him the gateway sealed shut, as if it had never been. “Do you really think we can trust him?” Garan glanced at Kanohi, “No,” answered Kanohi with a sigh, “but he will distract the Makuta, and the Toa Inika there will need all the help they can get.” “The Makuta is truly that strong?” “Yes,” Kanohi shivered, and then forced a smile, “still, I thought the Rahkshi were untouchable, and today we destroyed six of them. Nuparu and Velika are already busy salvaging their remains for more tools and weapons, even as your village is mended.” “You know, when the Makuta is defeated, and Mata-Nui is saved, our islands could learn a lot from each other. Trading goods, stories, knowledge, we are running low on food and resources, your richer island could save us. We already defeated monsters that could defeat your Toa Nuva. Imagine what we could do in a few years.” Kanohi’s face relaxed into a faint smile, before saying, “I better return to your village, we need everyone we can to fix the damage it suffered.” “Then hurry,” Garan laughed, “before my people defeat the Makuta without you.” Kanohi nodded, before grappling away through the jungle of Voya-Nui. The vigilante smile faded as he grappled, despite their words it wasn’t that simple of course. Not only was the Makuta a danger, but the false Toa themselves were powerful, though only ‘Toa’ Thok, ‘Toa’ Vezok, and ‘Toa’ Hakann seemed to be able to use their elements. But all of them had strange and incredible powers, allegedly because of the masks the ‘noble’ Makuta gave them when he appointed them the ‘protectors’ of the Matoran. Lies, all lies. The fights the Toa Inika would face in the coming days would not be easy. But the least he could do while the new Toa saved the Matoran and Mata-Nui was to protect the Matoran on Voya-Nui, both refugees and natives alike. He had a duty to all Matoran, he became a vigilante to protect them on an island with no Toa, to give them hope, and well, here he was again. And despite all his fears, his knowledge, there was another truth. Today was a victory. And that would keep him going. So Kanohi continued to grapple from tree to tree, hurtling between branches as he headed back to this island village, in a forest so alike but unalike his home. And this was the way, of the Bionicle.

IC Kanohi - the Coliseum Border with Le-Metru Kanohi grappled back and forth above the canal of liquid Protodermis. With each pass his arm outstretched and he hooked a Matoran, wrenching them free of their drowning and hurtling with them to the shore. They collapsed in a heap, gasping out, their lungs full of molten metal. He pressed on their chests, trying to expel the metallic water clogging their bodies, trying to hear a single breath. And then inevitably came a scream from the canal, as a Matoran struggled to stay above the water. And he would have to choose between saving a Matoran from drowning, or treating a rescued victim. It was madness, what … what was the point of all this suffering? Just because the Matoran honored Mata-Nui? It … it was stupid. Darn stupid. The world was burning, and Mata-Nui just was silent. It was … it didn’t matter. He had to help the Matoran, that matters most of all. Unity again. Spying some fleeing Le-Matoran with disk launchers he swallowed and called out to them, “D-d-do you have any disks with the power to freeze?” ”We aren’t staying here.” ”I … I understand, but if you have such a disk, I need it, if I can freeze parts of the canal, your fellows can drag themselves to safety.” ”Oh, um, okay. Good luck.” They tossed him two disks, both from Le-Metru, one with a level of five and the other with a power of one. He slotted the second into his disk launcher and fired at the edge of the canal, transforming some of the liquid Protodermis into a chunk of ice, the disk in the center. The struggling Le-Matoran struggled over to it, grappled to hang off it. They clung to it, no longer drowning. The cold was still a danger, and they might get exhausted, but it would buy him time to juggle his duties.