Nato G

I don't necessarily agree with that interpretation, but I can definitely see how someone could reach that conclusion. It's a testament to Bionicle's rich weirdness and depth that we're still having these sorts of philosophical conversations about it so long after it's gone.

I feel similarly. Aside from Axonn and Brutaka, basically none of the Order members actually exist as sets, and the faction doesn't really play a role in any of the novels. Their shenanigans were mainly confined to the serials, which - from what I understand - were always more of Greg's personal playground, where he could cut loose without as much oversight. In principle, this is a cool idea. And it works pretty well when the greater force in play is the ephemeral, unknowledge whims of Destiny. Not so much when the greater force is an edgy band of secretive, sadistic murderhobos who can effortlessly one-shot the villains the main heroes struggle against. The Lovecraftian stuff works when the greater forces remain largely unfathomable. But Bionicle was always more about deconstructing and demythologising its figureheads and faiths. With basically every single legendary figure in the story - Artakha and Karzahni, Makuta Mata Nui, the Great Beings - the curtain is eventually pulled back to reveal a mortal, flawed being. And compared to them, the Order were never really all that mysterious to start with. I think my issues with the Order also tie in with the fact the story never dwelled on the character's reactions to big, world-changing revelations. Things were never really given the weight or exploration they deserved. That an amoral spy organisation of super-beings were committing atrocities in the Great Spirit's name, conducting mass kidnappings and assassinations, incarcerating people for millennia in inhumane conditions without trail, and at one point manipulating a Toa team into committing genocide - all under the leadership of the very first Toa - really should have gotten more pushback/discussion from the other heroes. Instead everyone just kind of takes it in stride and moves on.

Frankly, I put the Order in the same "villains who got away" category as the rest of the characters I mentioned earlier. Their whole existence and role in the story just... never sat well with me. They commit some of the most brutal murders and atrocities seen in the story, but somehow get a free pass because they put the Great Spirit's name on their business cards. While I certainly have no problems with neutral factions or exploring moral grey areas, the Order still feel very out-of-place in Bionicle. They're more like a fully evil faction that manages to avoid conflict with the actual protagonists by virtue of there being a bigger threat that they're both opposed to. They feel like the wrong kind of morally grey for a story that's about noble heroes with a strict code of ethics. This is the other facet of the Order that bothers me. The Toa are the heroes of our story, yet there's this whole faction of ridiculously overpowered super beings who are ostensibly on the same side and show up once in a while to bail the Toa out of trouble and take agency out of their hands. Why aren't they the main characters? Who don't they just save the universe since they're so much more powerful than the Toa? At times it felt like a bit of a crutch from a storytelling perspective; instead of having the Toa reckon with the Code or have to make hard choices, the Order conveniently just pop up and handle the morally murky stuff for them. It's a big part of why I didn't include the Order in the first two books, and heavily reduced their power and influence when I finally did introduce them. So that my heroes would have to make the hard choices and daring saves for themselves.

It's been fun to take a deeper dive into how each Metru might change with other species repurposing it for their own uses. Ga-Metru made the most sense as the place for the Odinans to consolidate themselves; controlling the food and water supply gave them the leverage to hold onto some degree of power. I definitely see the parallels with those franchises. Honestly, I was more inspired by Bionicle itself, with almost every named villain after a certain point - the Piraka, the Barraki, Roodaka, Brutaka, etc. - escaping at the end of their year and continuing to cause problems. All I did here was apply that same policy to an entire occupying force instead of a handful of individuals. I felt it was important to still kind of match the energy of the original portrayal. It's a bit of a balancing act, finding a compromise between honouring her roots, and twisting her to suit the role she needed to fill in the story. Striking that balance is a big part of why I was reluctant to include too many canon characters in Embers.

Chapter 18 – The Choice From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. I used to have such respect for the Toa. Their care and their code made them heroes, virtuous idols whose ideals the Matoran could aspire to. And that was all well and good during times of peace. But there’s no denying that we’re still in a time of war, even now. A war where the Toa’s unwillingness to fight their enemy is putting lives at risk. Many believe that Tuxar and the Odinans should have been captured or killed after the Makuta’s defeat. Instead, the Toa relaxed and the Matoran celebrated, and our enemies consolidated themselves in Ga-Metru. And even now, the Toa refuse to cross into the region and root out the enemy, despite the untold hundreds of Matoran who remain trapped under oppressive rule. More and more, I fear the demarcation line is protecting the enemy from us, instead of the other way around. * * * Icthilos The silent Teleportation Rahkshi led the two Toa deeper down into the tunnel network, through a narrow, winding path that clearly hadn’t been an original part of the Archives. The new passage looked to have been melted through the rock, a clear sign of Rahkshi handiwork. An acrid burning stench soon filled the air as the two Toa were guided down what was clearly a newly-created side passage, as evidenced by the fresh scorch marks and still-sizzling shards scattered on the floor. Savnu was unbothered as she walked across the scalding stone, absorbing the heat from it as she passed to ease Icthilos’ progress. The melted tunnel soon opened up into one of the wider corridors of the archives. One end of the tunnel led off into the distant darkness, while the other was partially blocked by fresh rubble. It was by the blockage that three Rahkshi stood, seemingly waiting for the two Toa. Icthilos knew these three for certain. The purple-and-black one was Perception, the red-and-orange was Precision, and the blue-and-yellow one was Patience. The three ruling Shadow Kraata of Metru Nui. “Thank you for leading them here. You may depart,” Perception nodded to the Teleportation Rahkshi, who promptly vanished. “You clearly seem to trust that one,” Icthilos noted. “I’m guessing it’s old, powerful. Pretty close to becoming like you three?” “Our advancement is random and unpredictable,” Perception answered, “Only the Makuta knew for certain which kraata could ascend to full sapience. But yes, we are hopeful that one has the potential to join our ranks.” “Enough pleasantries,” Perception cut in, “You come seeking the fallen Vo-Toa?” “I reckon she’s been here recently,” Savnu pointed towards the rubble. “Yes,” Perception’s faceplates clacked together with a metallic clang as they spoke the word. “She and the rogue Rahkshi slew two of our own, and fled up this tunnel. Our scouts followed until sunlight stopped them.” “So she’s on the surface?” “Yes,” Perception said, “In Ga-Metru.” “Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Savnu grumbled. “One you had best find a way to resolve,” Precision replied, “Before we do.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Icthilos asked. “My sibling intends to gather a group of Weather Control Rahkshi to block the sunlight, allowing our forces to enter Ga-Metru and retrieve the fugitives themselves,” Perception answered. “I won’t prevent them, but I would prefer to avoid the bloodshed that might follow such an intrusion.” “I take it you weren’t a fan of getting the Council involved?” Icthilos asked Precision. “Your delays have cost time and lives,” Precision snarled. “Instead of dealing with the problem you made a bargain to spare their lives.” “Will you still honour that bargain?” Savnu asked. Icthilos noted one of her hands inching towards the blades sheathed at her side, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by the Mind Reader in the room. “Regardless of who finds her first, the Toa’s life will be spared,” Perception said firmly, speaking more to Precision than to the Toa. “But our people will defend themselves,” Precision added. “It would be better to wait,” the third Rahkshi, Patience, spoke for the first time. Their blue-and-yellow colouration identified them as a Rahkshi of Slow, and their way of speaking was exactly that. Each syllable was spoken sedately, each word chosen with great consideration. “Let these Toa retrieve their lost companion. If they fail, then send your forces.” “If they fail, more Rahkshi will be at risk,” Precision snapped; this was clearly a conversation that had already been had. “They have until I arrive to sort this out themselves.” With that, the Laser Vision Rahkshi stepped away from the group and headed up the same scorched tunnel the Toa had arrived through. “Let’s get going, then,” Savnu said, holding her arm out to Icthilos. “Good luck, Toa,” Perception said. Icthilos took Savnu’s arm and she activated her Kakama, whisking them away down the tunnel. * * * Sidra It had taken only a few minutes of searching and asking around for Sidra to discover that Ilton had left the Coliseum by airship while she’d been downstairs, responding to some incident in Le-Metru. Given the importance of Neryx’s news, there was no sense waiting around for Ilton to return. Which meant that Sidra needed to speak to someone else on the Council to organise a meeting. Unfortunately, there was only one other Council member in the building who she knew would give her the time of day. Someone she’d been avoiding for weeks, until yesterday. “What’s wrong?” Neryx asked, recognising Sidra’s terse expression. “Stay behind me,” was all Sidra said, as she stepped up to knock on the door of Lariska’s office. Sidra heard the steely scrape of a dagger being drawn as the door cracked open. “Skirmisher,” Lariska grinned, opening the door the rest of the way, “To what do I owe- ah.” Without a further word, the leader of the Dark Hunters stepped back and gestured for the two Odinans to entered, closing the door behind them. The room was a far cry from the official office space Sidra had been expecting, with target dummies lined up against one side wall, and a rack of knives and daggers hanging from the other. In the centre of the room was a battered wooden table, its surface scored by scratch marks from what looked to be many, many times Lariska had stabbed a knife into it out of frustration or boredom. “Looks like I won’t be needing this,” Lariska muttered, sheathing her blade as she sat down behind the desk, swinging her legs up to rest atop it. “This had better be good.” “The opposite,” Sidra nodded to Neryx. “I have information for the Council,” Neryx said, “Tuxar and Greillash are planning an attack.” “And I assume you’ll be wanting something in return?” Lariska asked boredly. “Amnesty. For myself, and anyone else who willingly switches sides.” “Sounds like an easy way to get spies into the city.” “We know you have a Kanohi Rode,” Neryx pointed out. “Not to mention a bunch of beings with psionic abilities,” Sidra added. “Fine,” Lariska conceded, “Anything else?” “Fair representation,” Neryx said. “We want a seat on the Council.” Sidra glanced at Neryx. “You didn’t mention-” “The Council works because we have an odd number of members, ensuring there can never be a tied vote,” Lariska replied, “We’d have to remove someone, or add another faction alongside yours.” “If the Unbroken are complicit in this attack, then Tustesh won’t be needing his seat,” Sidra suggested. “It’d just be a matter of deciding on who should represent them.” “Oh, Skirmisher,” Lariska chuckled, shaking her head. Sidra realised then that Neryx was looking at her. “Me?” Sidra sputtered, “You can’t be- I’m not cut out for-” “Of course you are. You had our interests at heart more than Greillash or Talok ever did.” “They’ll never trust me.” “They will, if-” “Save it for later,” Lariska interjected, gesturing to Neryx, “You wait outside. I need to have a word with Skirmisher, in private.” Neryx hesitated for a moment, until Sidra gave her a reassuring nod. “When we spoke last, you said you were afraid I was coming after you,” Lariska said. She lowered her legs and sat forward in the chair. “Why?” “Because I left you all. Because the Shadowed One always eliminated those who betrayed-” “You didn’t betray us, though,” Lariska cut her off. “You completed your assigned mission, and then you left to help the Toa win the war. Your actions helped save all of us: Matoran, League, and Dark Hunter.” “I-” “I understand why you left,” Lariska tutted, “I always told you your emotions are a liability in our line of work, but I can respect a warrior who stands by her principles. You kept your word, and in our world our word is everything.” “You’re not going to punish me?” “I’m not like him,” Lariska said, looking at her own mechanical arm as if she was seeing it for the first time, “Fear is a useful tool, but it doesn’t have to be the only one we use. Your slight was a small one, and you’ve already suffered enough for it.” “So where does that leave us?” “It leaves you with a choice, though I suspect you’ve already made it. Are you Skirmisher, or Sidra?” Sidra had been surprised at every step of the conversation, but the question caught her more off-guard than everything that had preceded it. It was a question she’d asked herself more than a few times since returning to her homeland after her time with the Dark Hunters. For weeks at a time she’d fully immersed herself in her daily life, forgetting the mission and her new master. But little reminders would always arise eventually. “Why not both?” Sidra asked. “Skirmisher works for me,” Lariska answered, “Sidra works in the best interests of her own people. For now, those two things align, but that might change someday, so I need you to decide now.” There was no hesitation in the answer. “Sidra.” “I thought as much,” Lariska sprung to her feet. “Come on. You have a Council meeting to attend.”

If Embers was a book I'd be sorely tempted to put this on the back as the endorsement quote.

In my efforts to distance myself from canon I've somehow looped back around and embraced it.

But if the relationship drama was effortlessly resolved, how could I keep milking it to torment my audience?

Chapter 17 – The Cult Of Krom From the ravings of The Recorder. Our eyes were fixed to the future when we fled to Metru Nui. We hoped, foolishly, that those we fled from would not follow. But now they have come. All in Le-Metru can see their ships waiting in the bay, though those of us who have faced these beings in the past know this is only a fraction of their fleet. The vessels belong to the Frostelus, but they aren’t the only beings to be found aboard them. The followers of the First Flesh are made up of outcasts and abominations of all kinds, hailing from the most far-flung, forsaken corners of the universe. If their collective have a name for themselves, it is unknown to us. But we call them the Cult Of Krom. * * * Sidra “So where are we-” Neryx never got to finish the question. The instant the elevator door closed Sidra whirled around and pulled her into an embrace. She hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even been sure if she wanted it. But in that brief, beautiful moment she was holding Neryx in her arms again, their conflicted history and her own warring emotions forgotten. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, breaking away. “This isn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, least of all you.” “I’m the one who should be apologising,” Neryx wrung her hands, shirking away into the nearest corner of the elevator. “I hurt you.” “No,” Sidra shook her head. “I lied to you, I kept things from you, and I let you get close knowing I was going to let you down. I deserve everything you did to me.” Every being in Sidra’s life would have chastised her in that moment. Ilton would have warned her that forgiveness had to be earned, Lariska would be lecturing her on how she could never be safe with someone who’d tried to take her life, and even a voice Sidra recognised as her own was telling her she was being too quick to trust Neryx again. None of it changed how she felt. Though its inhabitants were nigh-immortal, life in this universe was far too short to squander. “But I don’t deserve you.” “I hate that you kept all of this from me,” Neryx clutched one of Sidra’s hands in her own, holding onto it as if it were a treasured keepsake, “But I don’t hate you. I understand why you did it. I’m sorry it took me this long.” The elevator shuddered to a stop, and the two women quickly pulled away from each other as the doors creaked open. A passing Skakdi glanced their way momentarily, appearing surprised at the sight of two Odinans in the building, but continued on his way without a word. “So, what next?” Neryx asked. “We talk to Ilton. He can get us in front of the Council.” “I meant… about us?” “I think-” Sidra sighed. There were so many things she wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time or the place for it. “-I’m sorry. There are lives at risk. That conversation needs to wait.” * * * Ilton Desecrator was waiting for the Toa on the beaches of Le-Metru when their airship landed. At his side, as always, was Muhlene, and behind him stood his two four-armed bodyguards, Urkungon and Sahnor (though he’d learned their names, Ilton was still unsure which one was which). Also with them was a white-and-brown Po-Skakdi he recognised as Narkhek, who’d led the Skakdi contingent of the Last League. Evidently Narkhek still held some position of power, even under Desecrator’s current rule. Dozens more Skakdi waited further down the beach, armed and angry, with more arriving with each passing moment. Clearly Desecrator had been quick to put out the call to arms. “Thank you for your quick arrival,” Desecrator said, not bothering with a more formal greeting. “It seems like you’ve got ample manpower to deal with a few Frostelus,” Ilton said, “Why did you ask for us? For Lhiyla and Bihriis specifically?” “You’ve faced Skakdi in the past. You know how we fight,” Narkhek said. “Defence and caution are not strategies we often use, but they are necessary here.” “It’s not mere Frostelus we will face on those ships,” Muhlene said. “You think this is the same enemy you’ve spoken of at past Council meetings?” Ilton asked, “The beings who worship Tren Krom?” “We do,” Desecrator nodded. “Their forces consist of Frostelus, Hordika mutants, former prisoners of the Pit… and Zyglak. Some of the cultists we’ve encountered in the past possessed powerful disintegration powers and psionic abilities, which they claimed were gifts from their god.” “Which is why you wanted a Ce-Toa and Masks Of Shielding,” Ilton realised. “You know this enemy better than we do. What do you recommend?” “I fear this is just the vanguard for a far larger fleet, here to test our mettle and learn of our defences,” Desecrator explained, “That’s why they’ve held position instead of pressing on to the shore. They want us to counterattack and show them what we’re capable of.” “In close combat, the ‘gifted’ ones will likely try to read our thoughts and learn more about the city’s defences,” Narkhek added, “We were hoping your Ce-Toa could direct our Ce-Skakdi in shielding us from mental intrusion.” “I can do that,” Bihriis said. “What about the rest of us?” Ilton asked. “Many of those beings can survive in the water, so there’s no point in trying to sink their ships,” Desecrator said. “We’ve got a group of Ga-Skakdi ready to send them back out through the Sea Gate. We’ll need your help to re-seal it.” “Will that matter if they have the disintegration abilities you just mentioned?” Pahlil asked. “Sealing the gate certainly didn’t stop your lot from blasting their way through.” “It’s not about them. It’s about who they follow,” Desecrator pointed out towards the docks, its ancient protodermis pillars encrusted with coral and seaweed. “Look there. The water level has dropped almost a bio in the time since we first saw the iceberg ships.” “I don’t get it,” Ilton admitted. “You would have noticed it when you first returned to this dome, just as we did when we entered it. The water level outside the Metru Nui dome is lower than it is inside. This universe lies at an angle, and the seas are gradually draining away.” Ilton nodded. He recalled the difference in water level when the Toa had first returned through the Sea Gate, though he hadn’t thought it significant until now. But he understood the significance this time. During the original Great Cataclysm the universe had been below the ocean level of the world beyond. This time, it seemed, it was partially above the waterline, and the seas inside were leaking out through a breach somewhere to the south. And if that was true, then… “I once heard that Tren Krom is imprisoned on an island,” Ilton said, “Fused to it. But if the water level is dropping, then that island-” “His prison is his empire,” Desecrator said, their mingled voices strangely subdued. “We didn’t understand it when we first heard those words. Now we do.” “So if the water drains away an ancient monster we really don’t want to meet is going to come up and say hi?” Pahlil grimaced. “Just when we thought the apocalypse was over.” “You’ve heard what we’re up against,” Ilton turned to the group of Toa. “It’s your choice whether or not to be part of this fight.” He knew how they would all answer, of course. But it felt good to be able to ask. Between Teridax’s rule, the battle for Xia, and the retaking of Metru Nui, it felt like forever since Toa had truly had a choice in where and when to fight. “We’re with you,” Pahlil was the only one to speak, but the determined nods from the other three were answer enough. Ilton turned back to Desecrator. “Where do you need us?” * * * Icthilos As Icthilos had hoped, he and Savnu met with no opposition as they descended into the tunnels. There seemed to be very few Rahkshi around in this area of the Archives, and the few that Icthilos did see stayed far from the illumination of the lightstone lamp Icthilos held aloft. It was the same one Trina had given him, restored by Ilton’s Kanohi Kiril after it had been damaged during his last encounter with Trina. The sight of it hadn’t done anything to sway Trina last time, but he still harboured hopes that he could get through to her, somehow. As the two Toa rounded another corner, they found a lone Rahkshi waiting for them. Though the creatures more or less looked alike, Icthilos suspected that this was one he knew. It was a Rahkshi of Teleportation, blue and green in colour, with a staff that was broken off at one end. It was the same Rahkshi that had been waiting inside the Coliseum the night the Toa had infiltrated it. The Rahkshi made no sound, simply making a beckoning gesture with its hand.

If Mata Nui could see the future, literally every single problem that ever happened in the story could have been avoided.

I’m always wary of stories like this where we only get one side of the debate. It’s human nature to try to portray oneself as positively as possible, and the fact that you refer to these people as "very bad folks" and openly admit to deleting your side of the convo leaves no room for nuance in your account of events, and makes it very hard for anyone to evaluate this exchange objectively. Having tracked down the video in question and skimmed through the comments, I can see a few users who are acting as you describe, talking down to other commenters for disagreeing with the video’s content, calling them ‘kid’, etc. so I’m inclined to believe your account of the comments you received. But without seeing your side of the debate, we only have your word on what was said and who escalated first. All of that said… it takes two to argue on the internet. You saw a video that was all about mocking questionable story decisions, in your own words decided it was “a pretty bad video”, scrolled to a comment section that was filled with dozens of people agreeing with the video, and chose to make a comment disagreeing with everything it said. Whether intentionally or not, you were challenging the other people in that space. I want to be clear that I’m not defending the comments those people made, or the language they used, but posting a comment like that, in a space like that, and acting hurt when you receive backlash is like deliberately stomping on a snake and complaining that it whipped around and bit you. Part of internet survival, regardless of fandom or topic, is recognising an echo chamber when you walk into one, and knowing when not to engage. Now please correct me if I’m misunderstanding here, but these two comments taken together make it sound like you consider not only the comments you received, but criticism content like the video itself to be behaviour the community should be “better” than and “fight against”. People have strong feelings about many aspects of Bionicle. Ask a group of fans what the best team or best era is, and battle lines will be drawn. There are plenty of aspects of Bionicle that some people dislike, and Greg’s rampant random canonisations are among the most contentious and controversial. There’s nothing inherently wrong with criticising these things. There’s room for healthy discourse and debate. There are some subjects that people are never going to see eye to eye on, and that’s normal. If what you’re looking for is a Bionicle fandom that never disagree on anything… that’s not a community, it’s just another kind of echo chamber.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa Nice save, T'harrak thought, clenching her teeth to hold back from actually giving voice to the sarcastic remark. She narrowed her eyes at Sohmak, trying to discern what thoughts were hidden behind that oversized smile. Could he actually stand her? Or was he just tolerating her because he needed her? As long as they were both benefitting from their arrangement, did the answer even matter? "Good to hear," she finally replied, forcing her face to form a smile of her own. "I think we've all had enough walloping already." @Techn0geist

The sheer panic I just felt as I rushed to the chapter to check that I hadn't somehow completely missed such a terrible mistake...

Chapter 16 – Shifting Tides Incident Report Disturbance detected in Le-Metru. Civilian vessels under attack by unknown assailants. Multiple casualties reported. Unknown number still missing, feared lost at sea. Vahki units dispatched to engage attackers have been disabled. Toa response requested. Remaining Vahki units have been repurposed for search and rescue operations. * * * Ilton Hailing from a relatively primitive homeland, Ilton had long been sceptical of vehicular travel. Especially air travel. But now, he appreciated the convenience of it. Only minutes had passed since word of the attack in Le-Metru had reached the Coliseum, and he was already well on his way. Travelling on foot would have taken hours, but with an airship the Toa could respond to the threat almost immediately. He had almost a full team with him now, with Pahlil, Behjen, Bihriis, and Lhiyla having all been at the Coliseum for various reasons when the call had come in. Curiously, the latter three had been requested specifically by Desecrator in their message. “Hopefully this goes better than the last time we were in a fight out on the ocean,” Pahlil said, nudging Ilton’s shoulder. “You can’t say stuff like that when you were the one who tossed me in the water.” “I said I was sorry.” “I don’t think you actually did.” “Oh. I-” “Anyone else seeing this?” It was Bihriis who spoke, from her spot by the window. The Ce-Toa had been more soft-spoken and reserved since the Makuta’s defeat. There was a divide between her and the others that no amount of goodwill or comradery seemed able to bridge. She had questions, and no one was willing or able to answer them. And clearly her fear outweighed her curiosity, as she hadn’t simply read anyone’s mind or breached the blocks in her own to get the information she wanted. Ilton himself didn’t even have the full picture of what had happened. All he knew was what Savnu had told him, that Icthilos had coerced Bihriis into blocking some of her own memories. He had no idea what might happen if they were restored. In the minds of many, Bihriis was a ticking time bomb who could turn against them at any moment. Ilton had higher hopes. He joined her by the window, gazing out across the cityscape in search of whatever she was referring to. They were already over the heart of Le-Metru, the arena that had been built over the Moto-Hub flitting by below. But Bihriis’ eyes were cast towards the horizon, and when Ilton looked that way he saw plumes of smoke rising from the wreckage of several vessels out on the bay. And he saw something else, too, something he struggled to make sense of for several long moments. A half-dozen massive, misshapen blobs of white dotted the bay, larger than the stricken ships, but flat and featureless. “What are those things?” Pahlil asked, joining them at the window. “Icebergs,” Ilton said, grim memories of one of his most gruelling battles resurfacing for the first time in centuries. “Iceberg ships.” Centuries ago, he and Icthilos had combined the full force of both of their teams to repel a fleet of such ships from invading the shores of the Northern Continent. There was no forgetting or mistaking the sight of them, nor the memory of the creatures that occupied them. Frostelus. * * * Sidra Her companions and mission were forgotten in an instant as Sidra rushed over to Neryx, stopping just short of embracing her as she suddenly recalled where they were. “What are you doing here?” She demanded, shrouding herself once more in armour of anger. “We need to talk.” “You’ve used that line already.” “I mean it. You were right.” “You’ve also used that one.” “I- you came? The other night? I wasn’t sure if-” “I heard it,” Sidra’s voice softened, “All of it.” “It might help if you let her finish a sentence,” Savnu interrupted, appearing at Sidra’s side. Icthilos was a few steps behind. “She risked imprisonment by coming here. Whatever she has to say must be important.” Seeing that more senior Toa were now involving themselves, the guards who’d been watching Neryx slipped away to resume their regular duties. “Right, sorry,” Sidra simpered. “It’s Greillash. And Tuxar. They told us this morning what their plan is,” Neryx said. “I don’t want any part in it. A lot of us don’t.” “You’re not alone?” Sidra felt elation well within her. “A few dozen more are hiding out nearby, waiting for my word that it’s safe,” Neryx smiled. “What you said yesterday… it got through to people. They just needed a push, and Greillash gave it.” “What is Greillash planning?” Icthilos asked. “Poison. Tuxar’s been brewing up toxic plants for weeks, building up a stockpile. Greillash plans to poison the next water shipment, along with every other fresh water source in the city.” “Aside from Ga-Metru itself?” Savnu asked. “Exactly. Anyone who doesn’t die will be completely dependent on Ga-Metru.” “This is Tuxar’s plan, isn’t it?” Sidra asked. She knew Greillash. He was proud of his position as general, prizing prowess in physical combat above all else. He was a commander who led from the front, the first to charge into every battle. Hiding behind walls while his enemies died to poison wasn’t a strategy he would ever devise. But the fact that he’d agreed to it spoke to how desperate he’d become. “Yes,” Neryx nodded. “Does it matter whose plan it is?” Savnu snapped. “The Council needs to know.” “It matters to us,” Sidra said. “I’ll take her.” “Are you sure your judgement is-” Icthilos started to ask. “Don’t go there,” Sidra warned. “I can handle Neryx.” “That scar would say otherwise.” Out the corner of her eye, Sidra saw Neryx slump in response to the comment. Her expression was one of shame, and Sidra felt something twist inside her at the sight of it. “You worry about your friend, I’ll worry about mine,” Sidra said, her voice softening, “Good luck.” “Same to you,” Savnu said, pulling Icthilos alongside her as she headed for the door. “Friend?” Neryx asked quietly. “Not here,” Sidra said quietly, looking Neryx over to make sure she was unarmed, before leading her towards the elevator. “Come on.” * * * Trina Trina and Gorast emerged into daylight for the first time in weeks. The Vo-Toa raised a hand to shield her aching eyes, blinking through pained tears to try to figure out where the tunnel had led out. The soft lapping of water greeted her ears, and Trina soon recognised the shapes and colours of greenhouses. “Where are we?” Gorast asked. “The worst place we possibly could be,” Trina breathed, “Or maybe the best.” It would all depend on how the denizens of Ga-Metru reacted to finding a rogue Toa in their midst.

Why does there need to be a compromise? You're entitled to whatever theories and headcanons you want, but there's no obligation for anyone else to accept them.