Nato G

I know some folks like to whine about the "Inika build", but personally I prefer articulation over gear functions. So Jaller gets my vote.

Absolutely agreed. He was Nuju's translator for way longer than he was a Toa, and most people who knew him as a Matoran never even saw either of his Toa forms. The fan continuation story Legacy Weapons actually does include a scene in its final chapter where a statue of Matoro is unveiled. The author went with a statue of his Mahri form, but also placed Matoro's original Akaku at the base of the statue, which I think is a nice middle ground.

Unfortunately most of the Bionicle books don't work well in isolation, and that's with context. I don't think any book would work well as a one-off for the uninitiated. There's a reason that the first three movies are awkward abridged versions of each year's story, cherry-picking events from across multiple books and leaving out other stuff.

I feel like there's room for debate there. Even the worst of the serials and side stories have redeemable qualities, expanding the scope of the story, revisiting forgotten characters, exploring unseen locations, or introducing plot points that will be important later. For example, Federation of Fear is delightful dumb fun, throwing together a bunch of villains from previous years for a pointless adventure (the entire Bionicle storyline could function just fine without Miserix existing) but that story also introduces Tren Krom, who's vitally important to our understanding of the GSR and the Great Beings, and arguably single-handedly responsible for the heroes being able to win the final battle in 2010. Without Federation to set him up earlier, Tren Krom's role later in the story would have come out of nowhere. The dimension-hopping stuff gives us some fun what-ifs, especially Toa Empire and The Kingdom. Even weirder plotlines like the Shadow Takanuvas serve a purpose, demonstrating how dangerous and far-reaching the ambition of the Makuta could be, and showing that Toa of Light aren't the instant win button that many characters assumed them to be. I think the issue isn't so much that the serials and podcasts existed, just that they - and the rest of the story - were so spread out across different locations and mediums that it made Bionicle's story somewhat inaccessible and hard to keep up with. I think the web content tends to cop a lot of the blame for that issue, because it came out on a different website, only released sporadically, and sometimes had weird overlap that was hard to keep track of. But when you read everything in chronological order it all fits together pretty naturally.

I feel like the realistic answer is that if I were sent to the Bionicle Universe I would probably just die. Most of the story's world is a lawless post-apocalyptic dystopia filled with horrible monsters and overpowered villains. There are very few places to live where my life wouldn't consist of significant hardship and constant fights for survival. To that end, if I had to be something I'd probably want to be a Makuta. At least then I'd have the power to avoid or overcome most of the awful coming my way.

The way I see it, any Matoran could become a Toa. It's just a matter of the need being there and the right circumstances aligning for new heroes to rise.

Nuju also gets my vote. The dual-moulded tools are awesome, and I'm a sucker for asymmetric mask/head designs.

The map we got in the encyclopedia is indicative only, and doesn't accurately represent the actual size, position, or presence of all the landmasses in the Bionicle universe. There are a bunch of locations that are mentioned in-story, but aren't present on the map, and probably even more islands out there between the main continents.

Inferno has always bothered me because it feels like Greg is just being forced to check boxes and cram in every set and combiner that didn't appear in any of the four earlier 2006 novels. Which results in this super awkward rushed ending that's heavy on exposition and cameos. Irnakk shows up for one quick scene with the Piraka, while Botar shows up for two seconds to capture Brutaka. The Toa get attacked by the Protodax, who are immediately chased off by Umbra, who gets effortlessly defeated in a quick fight scene. Then in the finale we get the Vezok/Reidak fusion, followed by Vezon, Fenrakk, and Kardas (who use all of their powers at least once, with Vezon literally explaining how each ability works as they use them). And the ending where the Ignika randomly flings itself into the ocean feels super awkward and forced. After that much buildup, there had to be a more organic way to facilitate that setup than having the macguffin yeet itself for reasons that were never really explained or justified.

Hakann is also my favourite, albeit for a different reason. So many of the villains in Bionicle had these grandiose ambitions for world domination, but Hakann's motivations were a lot simpler: "Somewhere, there are Toa fighting and dying right now, and when they're gone, no one will even remember their names. How many Matoran do you think recall the names of the Toa who fought in the war against the Dark Hunters? But they remember Makuta and Nidhiki and Roodaka. Good gets forgotten, evil never does." There's something weirdly relatable about just wanting to be remembered. And unfortunately, real-world history just proves his point about villains being more memorable than heroes. That quote really resonated with me when I first read it, and it's stayed with me a lot longer than most dialogue from Bionicle.

I know I'm in the minority here, but I've always deeply disliked Time Trap. There's so much in that book that's poorly done or doesn't make sense: bringing back the Karzahni plant just to immediately kill it off again, one lone Visorak still running around, the random Krakua vision that has still never been explained, and a whole bunch of supposedly ultra-powerful villains acting like inept morons. Time Trap is the book that made me stop taking Makuta seriously as a villain. With all of the powers he's supposed to possess, his actions throughout the novel are inexplicably idiotic. It's like he's holding back for no reason, even in life-or-death fights, and it can't even be justified as being "part of the plan" like it is most times he loses.

As much as it pains me to say it, I'd drop the Barraki. I love those sets, and the whole backstory of the League of Six Kingdoms. But it frustrates me to no end that the story did absolutely nothing with that plot after 2007. The idea that these six other races who'd been all but erased from history were the true "chosen people", not the Matoran, and that the Great Spirit himself hand-picked six ruthless warlords and allowed them to use military might to enforce peace throughout the universe... it changes everything we thought we knew about the history of the Bionicle world. The return of the Barraki should have completely upended the entire religious and political foundation of Matoran civlisation. It would have been an amazing opportunity to have the heroes question everything they'd been told, and wonder whether Mata Nui was truly worth saving (a question the story flirted with at other times). Instead, the Barraki went back to jail and became minor nuisances in the serials, without their truth ever being told. In place of the Barraki, I'd have had the Piraka pursue the Inika into Mahri Nui and become mutated themselves. Having a villain team transform and return the same way the heroes did would have been an interesting angle to explore. As it is, after all of the build-up and characterisation they had, the Piraka got turned into snakes off-screen and imprisoned, leaving their stories frustratingly unresolved.

There were a lot of elements that made Bionicle stand out as unique. To me, the biggest one is that both the sets and story encouraged creativity to a degree that we rarely see in kids toy lines. The universe is so vast and rich that fans could could easily come up with their own heroes and villains within the world that could effortlessly exist alongside the main story. Even some of the more controversial aspects - like introducing multiple Makuta, or the multiverse - just made it easier for people to tell their own stories without fear of it not being "canon compliant".

I'd argue the most dangerous villains are the Great Beings themselves. They're geniuses, and they could do so much good... but they're all ego, and no wisdom. They don't care who they hurt, they don't think about the consequences, and they leave their experiments and failures roaming free to continue causing damage. The entire Bionicle storyline is a cycle of flawed creators making flawed creations in their image, with each iteration becoming more distorted and unstable, and it all begins with the Great Beings.

I don't think I've ever seen this particular statement before, but I got a real laugh out of reading it. This part in particular aged like milk: There's some fantastic irony in the fact that they killed Bionicle so they could grow the buildable figure category, but ended up changing things so drastically that it killed the entire buildable figures system instead. Just goes to show that not all innovations are improvements. I bet they regret "embracing the uncertainty" now.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Alright," she nodded, unsure of what more to say. "I'll uh... leave you to it." @Smudge8

To my eye, it looks like the parts covering the upper chest are partial Gahlok shields, while the segments around the waist are these. I'm not really sure of the rest, unfortunately.

Table 1 - all three are certifiably insane. Table 2 - they're all permadead. Table 3 - I suspect the joke here is that all three are "Dark Hunters". (Though you used a picture of Destroyer Umarak rather than Hunter Umarak, so I could be wrong on that one). EDIT: all three were forcibly mutated into more monstrous forms. Table 4 - My initial guess was that Xia was what connected these three (Pridak and Antroz both oversaw the island at different times). But Zaktan only visited there briefly. Then I checked Antroz's BS01 page and realised he was in charge of the Makuta in Karda Nui, making all three of these guys the leaders of their respective groups. Table 5 - all three are inventor/tinkerer types. Table 6 - These three are all ancient, experienced leaders. Table 7 - These guys are all leaders of large antagonist factions. Table 8 - And these three are all traitors.

I'm with Master Inika on this. This is a weird forced connection that doesn't add anything to the story except questions, complications, and plot holes. Not to mention that this explanation only works if you actively ignore a lot of pre-established details. Setting aside all of the many story issues, the biggest problem with this "theory" is that it cannot possibly be true from a real-world perspective. G2 was created more than a decade after the inception of G1, by a new story team. Therefore, any concepts that were created for G2 wouldn't have been part of the concepts for G1. I especially agree with this part. The people of Bara Magna were so greedy and ignorant that they blew up their own planet in the pursuit of a resource they didn't even understand. They were so isolationist and distrustful that they let their society stagnate for 100,000 years instead of cooperating. They absolutely wouldn't let something like these crystals sit around gathering dust. After all, if everyone had an abundance of magical crystals that could create food and water out of nothing, there'd be no need for the Glatorian system in the first place.

I went with Table 4. I feel like there'd be a lot of interesting conversations to be had with the biker Makuta, a guy made of bugs, and the dude who was literally chosen by the Great Spirit to rule the universe.

And that's a wrap on Book 1 of the Embers saga. Thank you everyone who's read and commented so far. Rest assured, there's plenty more to come. To commemorate this milestone I wrote a song about Icthilos (spoilers ahead, so make sure you're caught up on the story before listening). With the holidays coming up, I'm not going to be able to commit to my usual weekly upload schedule, so I'm going to be taking a break for a couple of months. Book 2 will come out sometime early next year.

Chapter 30 – First Strike From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. How does a war begin? It’s easy to look at a history book and see whatever act of aggression has been credited with commencing a conflict… but I know now it’s more complex than that. Wars aren’t spontaneous. Like a tsunami rising up and crashing down, they build and break, long before the first battle begins. Wars are born of resentments left unsettled, injustices left unchecked, transgressions unforgiven, crossed lines unforgotten. Do the skirmishes that occurred today mark the beginning of war? Did the war begin months ago, when Makuta Vhel seized our city? Is the true war yet to begin? Or can it still be avoided? Such things are not for me to decide. I can only chronicle whatever is to come. * * * Ilton “Where the Karz have you been?” It was Keidal’s angry shout that drew Ilton’s attention to the door where Savnu was making her way inside, supported by Icthilos. They’d both been absent for quite some time, and it looked like they’d been walking for a while. “I needed some air,” Savnu replied as Ilton approached, in a tone he recognised as her characteristic ‘I’m lying and I’m not going to elaborate on what really happened’ voice. Now wasn’t the time or place to make a scene, so Ilton instead moved to support Savnu. “Thank you for bringing my sister home,” he said, giving Icthilos a stern look. Whatever he and Savnu had been doing together, it had almost certainly been some combination of reckless and dangerous. He noticed then that Trina had joined them… and she wasn’t asking Icthilos where he’d been. It was hard not to be disappointed, but harder still to feel surprised. Even united in their common cause on Xia, they’d still kept secrets from each other, still acted without keeping each other informed. Despite Ilton’s hopes to the contrary, nothing had changed here. He and Keidal brought Savnu back to the makeshift medbay and returned her to her bed, giving stern instructions to the healers to make sure she stayed there this time. Then they made their way back to Icthilos and Trina, who were deep in the midst of a conversation that they broke off as soon as Ilton approached them. “No lies this time,” Ilton snapped, “Where were you two?” “I was in Ko-Metru, looking through old prophecies for anything that might be able to help us,” Icthilos answered, his stoic expression giving away nothing. “Orane followed me there. Savnu followed him.” “Where is he now?” Ilton asked. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?” He hadn’t wanted to believe it when he’d been told that Orane had turned against them, let alone Bihriis and Widrek as well. But he’d heard it from too many people, seen the injuries Pira and Savnu had suffered at the hands of their fellow Toa. There was no denying it… but equally, there was no understanding it. “Relax, he was just possessing a Vahki again. His real body is probably in the Coliseum, or somewhere else secure. For all I know, his spirit could be spying on us right now.” “I hope he is,” Ilton said, addressing the empty air. “If you’re listening, Brother, know that I forgive you. You will always have a place at our side.” “Speak for yourself,” Keidal spat, staring at Ilton like he was insane, before storming away. “I should go as well,” Icthilos said; Ilton noticed then that he now had a Kanohi Komau in his hands, likely collected from their stockpile of spare masks, “I need to have a word with our prisoner.” “What are you planning to do with that?” Ilton asked, pointing to the mask. “Not take no for an answer.” “Icthilos-” Trina started, but whatever else she was about to say was stopped short by Icthilos’ upraised hand. “Spare me the lecture, Trina. You know the stakes. Like you said before, the less you know, the better.” Her gaze lowered to the floor as she nodded glumly. “What stakes?” Ilton rounded on Trina as Icthilos departed. “What are you better off not knowing about?” “It’s complicated.” “Then uncomplicate it,” Ilton demanded, “You, me, Icthilos, I thought we were on the same page. What could have possibly happened in just two days to change that?” “Everything! Everything has changed,” Trina’s voice cracked, “An evil we thought extinct now rules our city. Our Brothers and Sisters stand against us. We can’t-” “All the more reason for the rest of us to stand together,” Ilton interjected, “There’s no place for secrets now.” “Yes, there is.” “Why?” “Because there’s a secret in this city that would shatter us if it were ever to be told. Keeping it keeps us together.” “Is that what you think, or just what Icthilos told you?” “It’s what I know.” “So you know this secret, then?” “I do. I wish I didn’t. You would too, if you knew.” “Don’t speak for me. Tell me, and I’ll decide how I feel about it.” “I won’t. I can’t. I only know of nine, maybe ten Toa who learned this truth, and six of them stand with the enemy. It’s not a risk I can take.” It took a moment for Ilton to finish the mental math. The six were obviously Maliss, Tuxar, Dhozoh, Bihriis, Orane, and Widrek. But the other four… Icthilos had to be one, Trina made two… but who were the others? “You and Icthilos know. Who else?” He asked. “If the other three know, then Yayle probably did too,” Trina said, “But since no one’s seen him, we can’t ask him. And Icthilos just told me that Orane told Savnu.” “Fine. If you won’t tell me, she will.” “She might.” “She will.” There was no question about it, as far as he was concerned. He’d let Savnu’s secrets and scheming slide too many times in the past. But not this time, not with their team coming apart at the seams and the city on the brink of war. She would see reason, he was sure. He never got the chance to find out if he was right. A panicked Po-Toa – Behjen, instantly recognisable by his red-and-brown colourscheme and mechanical arm – suddenly burst in through the front door, looking back over his shoulder as he ran. “Incoming! The Makuta!” And then a blistering beam of violet violence burst through the building behind him, carving first across the floor, then rising up to cleave through the far wall and across the ceiling. Ilton was sent flying one way, and Trina another, as concussive waves reverberated from the blast sites. Those Toa and Turaga unfortunate enough to be caught in the beam’s path were killed instantly, reduced to pieces so small and misshapen that there was no way to discern what had been who. As the beam abated and Ilton found his footing, he saw that Behjen himself was still alive, his Hau shield activated just in time, though it hadn’t saved him from becoming partially buried in the waist-deep furrow across the floor. He saw no sign of Trina now… intact or otherwise. The entire Moto-Hub shuddered, rubble and sparks raining down from the ragged wound carved across the structure. The air was heavy with dust and despair, the only thing louder than the rumbling rock being the screams of the scared and scarred. And then it was drowned out by a colossal thunderclap overhead, as a section of the weakened ceiling collapsed under a brutal barrage of lashing lightning. Some of the bolts blasted clean through the ceiling to crater the floor below, too sudden for any Vo-Toa in the vicinity to even attempt to redirect. Ilton scrambled to Behjen’s side, combining powers with him to try to shove away the mass of stone and metal falling from above, propelling the tumbling chunks towards the sides of the building in an effort to spare those still caught out in the open. And as the ceiling fully fell away, Ilton at last caught his first glimpse of their foe. A jagged shadow of black and silver, flying high overhead with a staff in its hands. A green glow emanated from the head of the weapon, and it was this tool from which the Makuta seemed to be firing his attacks. “We welcomed you. We offered acceptance… lenience… freedom from the Duty that has brought you so much suffering and despair. But you dared to reject my generosity?” A new sound echoed through the building, the sloshing of chute systems sputtering back to life. In the corners of the building furthest from the initial devastation, Ilton could see a scattered few Toa and Turaga scrambling towards the chute stations, flinging themselves blindly into the tubes towards destinations unknown. Other Toa were firing beams of elemental energy up towards the Makuta in a desperate attempt to form a Toa Seal, but nothing was getting close, whirled up into a gravity well the Makuta had summoned below him. And then the Makuta vanished, teleporting down to the centre of the building and unleashing a withering wave of sonic energy that shredded the structure to its foundations, causing the walls to fall and the rest of the ceiling to come crashing down. Cutting through the screaming sound was an even louder noise, the voice of Makuta Vhel as he passed judgement down on them all, “My tolerance is at an end, and so too is your legend.” Ilton and Behjen combined their powers once more, redirecting enough of the rubble to avoid being buried, though there was little they could do for everyone else. Ears ringing from the sonic blast, eyes all but blinded by the dust, Ilton stumbled away from Behjen, across the uneven debris, searching desperately for any sign of other survivors. What he saw instead was the silhouette of Makuta Vhel stalking through the swirling dust, his staff casting a sickly green light across the rubble. He waved the weapon towards a struggling Toa pinned in the rubble, loosing a disintegration blast that left the Toa’s remains indistinguishable from the rest of the dust already kicked up by the explosions. Ilton had no words of defiance or anger to offer. The time for talk was past. He extended his hand towards the distant figure of the Makuta, reaching out with his powers to fulfil the fear that had led Vhel’s species to persecute Fe-Toa across the universe. Baleful red eyes turned Ilton’s way, and widened in surprise as they spotted him. Ilton closed his hand, and in response Vhel’s armour crumpled inwards like a crushed can as it succumbed to the strength of elemental Iron. Ilton pulled his clenched fist back towards him, rupturing and peeling the Makuta’s armour apart in mirror with his motions. A howl of profound agony rung across the rubble at the Makuta’s form unfolded, his green-black antidermis essence spilling out into the air like an oil slick. Ilton saw fear in those red eyes now. And then the Makuta was gone, his ragged remains teleporting away, leaving behind a pathetic plume of his smokey soul that sputtered for a few seconds before dissipating entirely. Ilton felt a metal hand settle on his shoulder. “We need to leave,” Behjen said softly. “There could still be survivors under all this,” Ilton coughed, his voice croaky from breathing dust, “We can’t abandon them.” “We have to,” Behjen pointed upwards, where Vahki were beginning to circle, “We can’t dig and fight, and this place will be swarming with Rahkshi as well in an hour or two.” Letting out a shuddering sign, Ilton nodded. With tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, he joined Behjen in sprinting off into the lengthening shadows of the afternoon. Epilogue – Exodus From the ravings of The Recorder. Xia is dead, the shining city of steel and smog reduced to a shattered shell. What wasn’t obliterated in battle has been stripped and scavenged, drained and desecrated. Every item of interest, every weapon of worth, every resource and recruit. There are no more corporations. No more warbands. No more Dark Hunters. Only an alliance of those that are left. The Last League. We can’t stay here any longer. The seas are growing shallow, and the followers of the First Flesh draw near. The order has been given. Preparations are being made for our exodus. In a few hours, we set sail for Metru Nui, to face our Toa foes once more.

Chapter 29 – Down To Earth From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. In my research, I often find myself wondering what the true limits are to a Toa’s power. It’s easy to believe that the elements of our world are clear-cut and firmly defined, but that’s far from the truth. Over the years, I’ve read of rare Toa capable of performing feats that are seemingly beyond what their element should allow. Toa of Stone who can control crystals, Toa of Earth who manipulate sand, Toa of Fire who were able to freeze water, Toa of Electricity skilled in summoning illusions, and many other tales even stranger still. The Fa-Toa Pahlil, from my own homeland, spent much of her life convincingly posing as a Po-Toa, manipulating rocks by controlling the trace metals within them. Setting aside my own personal anecdote, the question remains: are these stories fantasy or fact? Is it only a rare few Toa destined to perform such displays of power, or do all Toa have such untapped abilities within them? Is it a matter of skill and experience, or random chance? Time and turmoil have changed our Toa, war and woe pushing them to limits they’d never before endured. What are they capable of, now that they’ve stopped holding back? * * * Pira “I don’t like this,” she muttered, spotting yet another Keerakh flitting out of sight over a nearby rooftop. “How many more spots do we have left to check?” They were getting uncomfortably close to the heart of the Metru, and they were still seeing the wraith-like white Vahki scuttling around in the shadows. Given how fast and fleeting their appearances were, it was impossible to tell if it was the same few individuals appearing in multiple places, or if there were dozens of the enforcers deployed throughout the Metru. “Only two,” Larone said. “But the fact that we’re still seeing Vahki should be cause for hope. It means they haven’t found Chavara yet.” “That’s assuming this Av-Matoran of yours is even still at one of the safe houses. If your people saw the Keerakh, maybe they went somewhere else to try to be unpredictable?” Ithnen suggested, “Is that how it works?” “I have no idea how it works,” Larone grumbled. “Someone once told me about a pair of Toa who tricked the Keerakh into leading them to one of the Great Disks,” Ithnen said. “The Vahki somehow knew where the Toa were trying to get to… despite the fact that even the Toa themselves didn’t know where to look… and the Vahki didn’t actually know what the Toa were looking for.” “That explained nothing,” Pira grumbled. “If anything I think it made me even more confused about how this predictive thing works.” “Yeah, I realised halfway through saying it that it wasn’t going to be as helpful as I thought.” “Here,” Larone suddenly said, bringing the transport to a stop. They were outside what looked to have once been a Mask Maker’s forge, now derelict and deserted. The windows were completely caked in dust, save for one, which looked to have very recently had some of the dust wiped away to form the shape of the Matoran symbol for Courage. Evidently that was the sign that had caught Larone’s eye. “How have the Vahki not found this place yet?” Pira wondered aloud as she clambered out of the transport, eyes sweeping her surroundings. “If they’re everywhere else why aren’t they here?” One of her hands subconsciously reached for the staff she normally kept slung across her back, but of course it was gone now, lost in her previous bout with Widrek. “Maybe they are?” Vhalem suggested, “Maybe they’ve predicted the route, and are just waiting for someone to make a break from one of the buildings? It might explain why we’ve seen them at nearly every stop along the way.” “It also might explain why Larone’s people haven’t moved to another safe house,” Ithnen said, “They spotted the Vahki watching and decided to hunker down.” “It would also mean we’ve just advertised to any Vahki watching that this is the right place,” Pira pointed out. “Then let’s not waste time,” Vhalem moved to knock on the door, “Hello? We’re here with Larone.” Something moved inside the building, obscured by the grimy windows, and then the door burst open and two Matoran ran out. One was a Po-Matoran with large clawed hands, while the other looked to be a Ta-Matoran clad in grey and yellow. From the way the Po-Matoran was placing himself in front of the other, blocking her body as best he could, this could only be the Av-Matoran Chavara. The instant the trio were out in the open, Pira caught a glimpse of a silvery flicker flashing from atop a nearby roof. A blast of air sent the incoming Kanoka careening off course, while Vhalem used gravity to deflect another disk fired from another direction, and Ithnen summoned a barrier of earth to block a third and fourth. Pira deflected a fifth a moment later with another elemental blast. Cries of fear and surprise rang out from Matoran passing by in the street, who ran for cover or hunkered in place. And then the two rebel Matoran were on board the transport, and Larone was turning it around. Ithnen managed to clamber aboard as well, while Pira grabbed a handhold on the side to cling onto as the vehicle lurched into motion. She glanced back towards Vhalem, already reaching out her other hand to help him only to find that he hadn’t followed. He was instead holding his ground, weapon at the ready. He crushed one Vahki apart with gravity, loosed an arrow into the head of a second… only for the remaining three to run right past him. The transport rounded a corner and Pira lost sight of Vhalem, but not the Keerakh, which had dropped to all fours for more speed. More Kanoka lashed towards the transport, and Pira once again swatted them away with waves of wailing wind. She directed a more concentrated blast towards the Vahki themselves, managing to trip up the one at the front, only for the other two to swerve around or leap over it as it scrambled to right itself. Before she could loose another blast Pira was suddenly slammed against the transport as it came to a jarring halt, its front legs bracing while its back swung out to slam into the side of a nearby warehouse. Pira’s arm was wrenched painfully as she tumbled off the side of the vehicle, falling awkwardly between the side of the transport and the warehouse wall. For those panicked moments she spent scrambling to right herself, she thought she was done for. But just as with Vhalem, the Vahki took no interest in her, instead leaping at the transport and attempting to tear its doors open. Pira didn’t give them a chance to break through, lashing out with her powers and flinging the machines away once more. As they started to pick themselves up off the ground, Pira took a moment to peer past the transport to figure out what had brought it to a halt. What she saw was a cracked crater in the street, caused by something breaking its way up from below. A something that revealed itself to be a burly figure clad in black and silver, his clawed hands tearing up through the dirt and rock. It was Widrek, with more Keerakh climbing up after him. As he climbed out, Pira noticed that he had her staff slung across his back. For the briefest of moments, Pira wondered if he’d taken it as a reminder, out of remorse. But then his gaze settled on her and he barked an order, “Kill them all!” The earth suddenly shifted beneath his feet, collapsing away to plunge him and his new Vahki right back into whatever Archives tunnel they’d just climbed up out of. Ithnen bounded out of the transport, joining Pira in the street while Larone tried to turn the vehicle around to find a new route. Torn between their old orders to specifically pursue the Matoran rebels, and their new orders to kill everyone, the three remaining Vahki spread out, one approaching the transport and the others sizing up a Toa each. Pira summoned another blast of air, trying to fling her foe into the one targeting the transport, but this time the Vahki were ready for it, digging their staffs into the ground. Pira kept up the blustery breeze, resolving to at least force the Vahki to stay in place if she couldn’t push them away. Ithnen, meanwhile, darted deftly towards her attacker, relying on her smaller size and greater agility – as well as the probability-bending powers of her mask – to evade the stun blasts being loosed towards her. She quickly closed the distance, ducking a swing of the Vahki’s staff and popping up behind the machine to sink one of her own blades into its head. Before it had even finished falling she was turning her attention to the other two, starting to redirect the dislodged dirt on the ground towards the two Vahki struggling in Pira’s breeze. The earth rose up, then shuddered to a stop as Widrek clambered back out of the hole once more, counteracting Ithnen’s powers with his own. “I see you came prepared this time,” Widrek growled, his words barely audible over the wind. The transport finished turning, and started advancing back down the street towards the nearest intersection. Pira caught a brief glance of Larone in the pilot’s seat, flashing a grateful smile towards the two Toa. Once the transport was past her, Pira let her breeze abate and snatched up one of the staves of the Keerakh Ithnen had destroyed, brandishing it towards Widrek. She could feel her elemental energy reserves dwindling; she hadn’t had much of a chance to recharge after the morning’s events, and this bout was taking its toll. The only response the Onu-Toa offered was a nod towards his Vahki, which began to charge towards the two Toa. This time it was gravity that halted their advance as Vhalem finally caught up with the group and brought his own powers to bear. “You started without me,” he joked, falling into line beside his companions. “Better late than never, Brother,” Ithnen replied. Pira didn’t join in on the banter. Her focus was on Widrek, who had been driven to his knees by the force of increased gravity pressing down on his body. His teeth were gritted, his face contorted, but not by pain. Instead his expression was one of exertion and focus. Pira could feel the ground rumbling underfoot. “What’s he doing?” She asked, glancing at Ithnen. As she spoke, she fumbled with the staff in her hand, searching for a trigger or mechanism to make it fire but finding none. The Vahki had to fire these things somehow… “I don’t know,” Ithnen replied, frowning. “I don’t understand. There’s not enough earth here for him to-” “Yes, there is,” Widrek grinned. Behind the three Toa the transport was flung on its side as the ground exploded in front of it. But instead of a burst of solid dirt, it was lava that came spilling from the crater in the pavement. Sizzling spatters of slag rained down over the street, sizzling against brick and armour and flesh. Vhalem recoiled with a cry and swatted blindly at his back, losing his focus on his powers in the process. Pira too felt the sting of the searing spray, while Ithnen once again twisted probability to avoid being struck. “You have heart, little one,” Widrek sneered at Ithnen, “But I’ve been a Toa longer than you’ve been alive. I know things even the oldest and wisest of Turaga couldn’t teach you.” “Get them out!” Pira barked to Vhalem, before battering Widrek with another blast of air. It was a split-second decision, one motivated as much by her selfish desire to get even with Widrek as it was by some semblance of strategy. On the three of them, Vhalem was the best suited to getting Larone and the Matoran out of the flipped transport, or levitating the whole transport out of the path of the lava. Pira and Ithnen would be more useful trying to break Widrek’s focus and keep him and the Vahki occupied. As Pira’s airblast sent Widrek stumbling, Ithnen manipulated the earth again, widening the hole Widrek had made in the street and sending him tumbling into the tunnel once more. This time his hands caught the edge, and he immediately began pulling himself back out. The Vahki that were still intact were now scrambling to their feet, and the two Toa assailed them with another volley of elements blasts, managing to disable a few of them. “We’ve got more incoming!” At Vhalem’s shout, Pira glanced back towards him. Larone and the two Matoran were safely out of the transport, none of them appearing too seriously injured, and the four of them were in the process of backing away from the bubbling puddle of lava that was swiftly beginning to spread across the street and swallow the transport. But it wasn’t the lava that Vhalem was pointing out. He was gesturing towards the sky overhead, where the crimson figures of Ta-Metru’s native Vahki were descending towards the street. Pira and Ithnen ceased their attacks on the Keerakh and readied themselves to face their new foes, only for the Nuurakh to ignore them completely and instead attack the Keerakh, descending upon the fallen machines and rending them asunder with their clawed staffs. “No! What are you doing?” Widrek roared, seizing one of the red Vahki and effortlessly wrenching its head from its body in a move that chilled Pira to her core. The memory of him trying to do the very same thing to her was all too fresh. “They’re maintaining order,” came the hoarse voice of another Toa in half-black armour who’d abruptly appeared on the scene, stepping out of the shadow of a nearby building as casually as if he were walking through a doorway, “An order that you have disrupted.” “Maliss, I-” Widrek stammered, sounding genuinely afraid for the first time since Pira had met him. “You thought I wouldn’t notice you blowing holes in my Metru?” Maliss snarled, “I know you’re used to doing whatever you please, but this isn’t a lawless battlefield.” “She’s an Av-Matoran!” Widrek protested, pointing past Pira towards Chavara, “A threat, living unnoticed in your Metru.” “I was well aware of her presence, you fool,” Maliss snapped, “You think your fancy Kanohi is the only way to see through an illusion?” “If you knew, why not kill me?” It was Chavara herself who asked the question. “I’m a Fe-Toa, little one. I know all too well the pain of being persecuted simply for existing. You weren’t a threat, so I allowed you to live your life,” what little sympathy was discernible in his voice was swiftly replaced by a far more threatening tone, “You can choose to continue not to be a threat.” “I think that choice has already been made for me.” “Very well,” Maliss sighed. For the first time, he turned his attention to the rest of the group, his gaze lingering only briefly on the Toa and Matoran, before focusing on Larone. “On the subject of choices, I see you’ve chosen to take a more active role.” “I wouldn’t say I had much of a choice, either,” Larone grumbled. He and the others were being forced to move closer to the two fallen Toa, as the lava continued to languidly spread across the street. A nearby awning had burst into flame, and the bricks of neighbouring buildings were beginning to crack and crumble. “So be it,” Maliss shrugged, waving his hand and summoning a low wall of metal across the road to stem the spread of the lava. “Leave, all of you, while I still allow it.” “No!” Widrek roared, ripping the staff from his back and flinging it like a spear. Pira wasn’t sure who it was actually aimed at. Herself? Chavara? Regardless of who the intended target was, it didn’t make it anywhere close, clattering to the ground in a cloud of whirling dust. Vhalem, Pira, and even Maliss all had a hand raised, each having used their own powers on the projectile. Even Ithnen had a look of focus on her face that usually accompanied Kanohi usage. “Leave,” Maliss repeated, redirecting his upraised hand towards Widrek and wrenching control of the Onu-Toa’s armour to hold him in place, “You didn’t start this, so you won’t bear the consequences for it. But consider this my final act of tolerance and goodwill. When next we meet, you’ll be begging for my forgiveness… or begging for your lives.” He reached out to place his hand on Widrek’s shoulder, and then the two Toa were gone, vanishing into shadow. The Nuurakh remained where they were, picking at the remains of the Keerakh or moving to send gawking onlookers back to work, paying no heed to the presence of the Toa and Matoran rebels. “You heard the lunatic,” Vhalem said, “Let’s go.” As the others started to set off down the street, Pira leaned down to pick up her staff. It was a little bent out of shape, either from being dropped in the Archives or being struck with so many powers now, but it could be repaired easily enough. The same couldn’t be said of Widrek. She’d been afraid of him before… now she was afraid for him.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Failing that, we have to at least be strong enough to defend what we have from those who want to take it from us." @Smudge8

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "I'm not sure where we'd get lava, but yes to the catapults," she nodded. "I know some Skakdi would argue that anything other than punching your enemy in the face is cowardly, but in my experience, reality doesn't care about honour. Fort Garsi certainly had no qualms about using snipers and traps on us. So the next time we pick a fight with someone, I'd prefer to be lobbing rocks and bombs at them from far away." @Smudge8