Nato G

This just seems so strange to me. Until now, Lego has always seemed to understand that the live-action approach wasn't a good fit for their products. The Galidor show didn't perform very well, and plans to put a human child in Mask of Light were very quickly shot down. Lego's various animated shows have generally been successful, The Lego Movie was fantastic, and while the movies that followed it weren't quite as well-received, this year's Piece by Piece shows that a film made using the Lego style can still be successful. I can't fathom why they'd abandon the one thing that makes them unique to make a generic live-action movie, much less three of them. Especially if the rumours are true and one of those will be a Ninjago film, given that the previous Lego Ninjago film didn't do super well compared to the other Lego movies.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Most things aren't," she lamented. "Sometimes I wish everything was that easy." @Smudge8

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "I get it. It's been a... difficult couple of days." @Smudge8

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "He... suggested I talk to you," T'harrak admitted. "But I was meaning to anyway, and I should've done it sooner. He could tell I was putting it off, and made it an order." @Smudge8

Chapter 28 – Choices From the records of Turaga Rost. Every day while the Matoran toil, the Odinans delve through the chronicles of old, searching for understanding. We know Mata Nui was trapped within the Mask Of Life, and we know the Ignika was cast into the void beyond our universe, but the nature of this void eludes us. How do we reach it? How can we traverse it? Will the Ignika find its way back to us of its own accord, or is there something we can do to aid it? Without answers to these questions, our hopes and our efforts are all for naught. * * * Icthilos “I know you’re here…” he muttered to himself as he rifled through the stacks of snow-sodden pages, “…you have to be here. Where are you?” He’d delved through two more Knowledge Towers and was now exploring a third, though he didn’t have high hopes for this one. The windows had been left open when this building was abandoned, and it looked like snow had blown inside and melted at least once between then and his arrival. Still, he had to try. He needed to be sure. He rifled through pulped pages and skimmed unfinished tablets, finding little but incomplete predictions and piecemeal prophecies. He was about to give up and move on to the next tower when he saw it: a small metal box marked with the symbol of the Red Star, tucked out of the way on a bottom shelf. He leaned down and pried it open, immediately recognising the distinctive scrawl of the scholar whose research he sought. He flipped the box upside down and emptied it out, picking through the pages at the bottom; the notes closest to the top of the researcher’s desk would likely have been the first to go into the box when they’d been packed away. And there it was, pinned beneath a stone tablet that looked to be a Toa’s journal. The scrap of parchment he sought was covered in the barely-legible scribblings of a determined researcher whose telescope had been cast skywards even as Teridax proclaimed his dominion over the universe, whose eyes had remained fixated on a particular point in the sky even as the war against Teridax raged across Metru Nui and the wider universe. The words were simple, almost unremarkable, a mundane observation made on a mad day. Unknown yellow-white light observed rising from Southward direction. Was drawn towards Red Star, converged with it, then disappeared. So many of the Ko-Matoran scholars had spoken of strange sights and shifting lights during and after Teridax’s takeover. Icthilos had heard plenty of their stories when he’d arrived on the island and settled in Ko-Metru. None of them had meant much to him then, and most still didn’t now. But this… this suddenly made sense, just as he’d feared. If the Mask Of Life truly had been flung out into the void, it would have come from the South, the direction of Karda Nui… and if Teridax had come under attack by Vhel while he’d been exiling the Kanohi, he might not have been unable to send it as far away as he’d planned… leaving it to be drawn towards the closest body of gravity in the void above. The answer had been right here all along, in the very Metru Vhel had ordered its people to abandon. It was within sight, but out of reach… but perhaps not out of Vhel’s reach. There was a very real possibility that a Makuta could survive a voyage into the void beyond the skies. Icthilos had no intention of giving him the opportunity. He took the paper firmly in his hands, intent on ripping it apart, but found himself faltering as it began to tear. What he held in his hands was more than mere information. It was the future, the fate of countless beings. The sound of scrabbling on the stairs tore his attention away from the page. “Stop!” A frost-encrusted Keerakh blundered into the room, and though the voice came out tinny and artificial it was still one Icthilos recognised: Orane. “Oh, this’ll be good,” with his free hand, Icthilos drew his flail, ready to swing at the first provocation, “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” “Just stop,” the Vahki lowered its arms to its sides, “I only want to talk, please.” “Alright, spit it out.” Icthilos didn’t intend to entertain the conversation for long; he could already hear more steps on the stairs, as something else shuffled its way up the tower. “I was spying on you and Trina earlier. I heard what you said. About Destiny. About having the right to make our own choices.” Icthilos narrowed his eyes at the machine. There was no expression to read on its face, no inflection in the voice to gauge emotion from. But considering Orane’s willingness to throw Reconstitution disks and collapse tunnels on people earlier in the day, Icthilos was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he’d come here simply to kill him, he wouldn’t have bothered with a conversation. “I was wrong to give up,” Orane said. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it does mean something.” “Why follow me out here, then?” Icthilos asked. “You could’ve come straight to the Moto-Hub to say all of this.” “Because I heard what you said to Trina. You know something, about… I don’t know what. Something important. I’m guessing that’s it,” the Vahki’s staff raised up to point at the paper in Icthilos’ hand, “And you want to destroy it.” “Can you blame me?” Icthilos snapped, “What we have here isn’t perfect, but it’s a life. The Matoran can survive here, even thrive. But between your lot and our creators, I’m not convinced any of us will be allowed any life at all if we actually completed the mission we were made for.” “Maybe you’re right, but you could just as easily be wrong,” Orane argued, “You can’t make that choice for all of us… and for all of them, out there, waiting for us to come save them.” “Their world doesn’t matter. Ours does, and this city is all that’s left of it.” “You don’t have the right to decide that for everyone.” “Don’t I? Funny how you’re all happy for me to take all of the hate and blame and responsibility when it suits you,” Icthilos snarled. “And you of all people don’t get to lecture me on rights and choice. This morning you were willing to slay your own Sister.” “I… wasn’t in my right mind.” “You sure weren’t,” came the unexpected voice of Savnu, as she finally reached the top of the stairs. “You’re supposed to be resting,” Icthilos growled. “I know,” she panted breathlessly, clutching her chest and leaning against the wall, “And if I’d known there were going to be stairs, I would’ve stayed in bed.” “What are you doing here? With him?” “He possessed a speaker near my bed, to talk to me. He told me he was sorry. He told me… things I’m not sure I completely believe.” “And, what? You came here to help him stop me?” “Yes,” Orane said. “Nah,” Savnu smiled. She waved her hand towards Icthilos, and a flicker of flame flitted to the page, evaporating it into ash before anyone could react. “No!” Orane started to move, a Kanoka teleporting into the Vahki’s mouthparts and its staffs raising to fire. For a moment, though, Orane hesitated, head flicking back and forth between the two Toa, and that moment of uncertainty cost him his chance to attack either of them. The Vahki was simultaneously engulfed in ice and flame, before its skull was shattered to fragments by a single decisive swing of Icthilos’ flail. “Why?” Icthilos asked, shaking scraps of metal from his weapon. “Yesterday you were convinced there wasn’t even a Makuta. If you didn’t believe Orane, then why-” “I believe you. And the fact that you’re here means you believe it,” Savnu said. “So I came to help.” “Thank you,” Icthilos put away his weapon and moved to help Savnu, letting her lean on his shoulder as they started working their way back downstairs. “Should we expect company down there?” “I doubt it. I thawed out that Vahki for him, and I don’t think he would have told anyone else we were coming here.” “What will he do now, do you think?” Icthilos asked, “For a moment there, I thought he might have been willing to return to our side.” “But I just pushed him further away than ever,” Savnu nodded grimly, “I know. I hope it was for the right reasons.” “As do I,” Icthilos sighed. They reached the ground floor, and started trekking back across the snow towards the border with Le-Metru. As they walked, Icthilos glanced down at the ashen dust still smeared on his hand, strangely grateful that someone else had taken the choice out of his hands. “What of the things Orane told you?” He asked absently, brushing his hand against his leg to scrape away the ash, “Our origins, our purpose? You didn’t feel motivated to switch sides?” “100,000 years is a long time, Icthilos. Too long. Whoever made us, and whatever they made us for, doesn’t matter to me,” Savnu said. “I take responsibility for what I’ve done, and everything I’ve done has been for the Matoran, for the future of our people. Abandoning all of that over ancient history is just taking the easy way out. Maybe my faith is false… but it’s still mine.” Despite the cold, Icthilos felt a strange sense of warmth well within him. It wasn’t coming from Savnu, but it was certainly because of her. Though he’d kept his judgement to himself – at least until his outburst yesterday – he’d often dismissed Savnu as thoughtless and rash, acting only on rebellious impulse. But he saw the truth of her now. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about the consequences. She just didn’t care what others thought of her. Like Icthilos, she was willing to take the anger and blame if it meant the best outcome for the Matoran. “I’ve underestimated you,” he admitted. “I wish Ilton had been here to hear you say that,” she smiled for a moment, but it quickly faded to a frown, “Actually, no. I’m not sure he’d feel the same as we do about… all of this.” “It wouldn’t be easy for him,” Icthilos agreed. “Same for Orane and the others. Whatever they think, whatever they’re going through… it can’t be easy for them, either.” “What comes next isn’t going to be any easier for us.”

We already had a thread for discussing these releases. Duckbricks also asked in his statement that we not discuss the leaked files further, so that he and Christian Faber don't get in any further trouble, so it would probably be best to drop the topic, or perhaps get the moderators to lock the relevant threads.

It's not pessimistic or heartless to state a fact. G1 ended fourteen years ago. G2 ended eight years ago. Pretty much the entire Bionicle/CCBS catalogue of parts has been destroyed. Most of the story and design team no longer work for Lego. By every definition of the word, the theme is defunct. Of course not. This community is full of wonderful creators who make MOCs and music, stories and theories, artwork and videos, custom parts, and so much more. As long as there are fans who remember and cherish the theme, Bionicle will never be completely gone. If you want to keep the theme alive, be part of that. Use your talents to contribute to continuing Bionicle's legacy. Lego isn't going to do it for us.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Sohmak's done his fair share of wall-punching as well, and he only got here yesterday," T'harrak pointed out. "But it's probably a good idea to limit future punching to things outside of our fortress." @Smudge8

I love that they're just ignoring the existence of G2, though.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Well, we've got a new boss now," she replied. "Seems like they've got some good plans for this place." @Smudge8

I completely understand the reasoning behind removing dilapidated, decades-old statues from a long-defunct theme... but the timing (the same day as all of the Faber/Duckbrick reveals being taken down) is unfortunate, to say the least. Both things happened for perfectly understandable reasons, but when two of the biggest hits this community has taken since G2's cancellation happen in the space of the same 24-hour period, it's hard not to feel like it's deliberate.

Chapter 27 – Last Light From the journal of Turaga Marik. The more I think about it, the more I feel that our people have lost their way. We cling to a code that we bend and break as we see fit. We venerate vague virtues, and allow the light we believe in so deeply to blind us to the truths of our reality. The Great Spirit punished me for my transgressions, stripped me of my power for taking a life. And yet it took me until now to learn the lesson. The others still haven’t learned. But they will. In time. * * * Pira After her talk with Trina, Pira had headed out into one of the empty buildings outside to try to tap into the Nuva Symbols. She kept them in a pack on her back, not wanting anyone heading in or out of the Moto-Hub to see them, but even without being in physical contact with them she could feel their power. It felt like the pack was full of heatstones, radiating comforting warmth. For two hours she experimented with different ways of channelling or drawing upon her powers. Simple channelling exercises, attacks against the walls of the empty buildings around her, even jumping off a low roof to try to loosely recreate the circumstances of Vhalem’s fall. But no matter what she tried, she didn’t feel the exhilarating rush of energy she’d experienced in her desperate attempt to save Vhalem in the Archives. She could sense the reserves of untapped energy just waiting to be unleashed, but they remained frustratingly out of reach. Sighing, she leaned on the windowsill, looking out into the street. She’d seen a few figures coming and going while she’d been outside, scouts returning from their explorations, Toa who’d stayed the night elsewhere coming back to check up on their companions, Marik, Icthilos, Savnu, and a few others wandering off at different times. This time, she saw Larone passing by, heading back towards the Moto-Hub. “Hey!” She called out, waving to him, “I thought you weren’t coming back until nightfall?” “The situation has changed,” he said, hurrying over to her. The brief act of exertion left him breathless and wheezing, but he forced himself to continue speaking, “I need your help.” “Mine?” “And anyone else you can convince to help you without wasting time with talk.” “What’s wrong?” “The rogue Onu-Toa, Widrek, he’s hunting someone deeply important. Someone who could be the difference between life and death for all of us.” “Who?” The last free Av-Matoran in Metru Nui.” * * * Vhalem “Pira, slow down. Are you sure about this?” Vhalem pleaded. Pira had barely finished giving her rushed explanation of Larone’s request, and she already looked like she wanted to sprint back out the doors. “If you don’t want to help me, I’ll find someone else.” “Shouldn’t we talk to Trina about this?” Vhalem wasn’t normally one to go around seeking permission for every little thing he wanted to do. Training under Savnu had that effect on people. But he didn’t want to rush into another fight. He didn’t want Pira to rush into another fight. And even though he knew he couldn’t talk Pira out of this, he hoped that Trina could. Hopes that were dashed almost instantly, as Pira skipped straight to the logical conclusion. “You know she won’t let us.” “She’s right,” Ithnen spoke up. She’d still been with Vhalem when Pira had shown up, and Pira hadn’t acknowledged or tried to shoo her off before bursting into her explanation. “After what happened to you two this morning, she’s not going to let you go after Widrek again.” “I’m not going to let him hurt anyone else,” Pira insisted. “He’s going to hurt you,” Vhalem protested, “We couldn’t beat him before, and we’re barely recovered from this morning. What makes you think this is going to be any different?” “Because this time, you’ll have an Onu-Toa of your own with you,” Ithnen said, nudging his shoulder, “I’m not sitting on the sidelines while you and the airhead fight for your lives again.” “Karzahni. Okay, fine. I’m in,” Vhalem grumbled. He didn’t want to rush headlong into another fight, but he wasn’t about to let the two of them go alone. “What about Erdo or Tivni?” “As far as I know, Erdo hasn’t come back from Ga-Metru yet,” Ithnen said, “And I think Tivni got paired up with Pahlil for another scouting run, to try to pick up the trail of that purple Rahkshi.” “Just the three of us, then,” Pira said, glancing at Ithnen, “Time to find out what you’re made of.” “I’m sure we’ll all find out, once Widrek’s done pulling us apart,” Vhalem grumbled, rising to his feet and readying his bow-blade. “Let’s go.” The three of them slipped back outside and down the street, where Turaga Larone awaited beside a small Vahki transport, similar in size to the one that had taken the Toa team into Onu-Metru earlier that morning. “Only three of you?” Larone asked. “You asked for speed,” Pira said. “But Vhalem and I have a score to settle with Widrek, and Ithnen can give us a fighting chance against him. It’ll have to be enough.” Vhalem didn’t say anything as he boarded the transport. Impulsive, reckless plans were a running theme among the company he’d been keeping of late, but even by those standards this felt like too much, too fast. Trina and Icthilos seemed set on calculating a very careful next move, and here he was potentially ruining their plans, putting everyone else at risk in the process. But even beyond his Duty to defend the Matoran, he saw the strategic sense in saving what was quite possibly the last living Av-Matoran in existence. Not to mention the possibility of capturing Widrek… or killing him, if it came down to it. Hopefully it wouldn’t. “How has this Av-Matoran managed to stay safe for so long?” Ithnen asked, as she shuffled into the transport beside Vhalem. “I thought they were all rounded up?” Pira joined them a second later, while Larone clambered into the front and set the transport moving through the streets. “I don’t know the full story,” Larone explained, as the transport began to trundle down the street in the direction of the border with Ta-Metru. “It seems that, sometime long ago, an unknown number of Av-Matoran were hidden throughout the universe, their memories of their true nature erased. When the other Av-Matoran came here from Karda Nui they were able to identify their kin hidden among the other tribes. But even after finding out her true nature, Charvara felt more comfortable remaining in the guise of a Ta-Matoran, and thus avoided being identified with the rest when the Odinans came calling. It wasn’t until she reached out to a resistance contact to ask for aid that we found out what she really was.” “So what changed?” Ithnen asked. “Widrek’s mask,” Vhalem was the one to offer an answer, “A Rode can see through illusions and disguises as easily as a spoken deception.” “Indeed,” Larone said. “He spotted her in a crowd, at a distance. Just dumb luck.” “Bad luck,” Pira muttered. “I know how that feels.” “My people rushed her to one of our safe houses, and sent word to me,” Larone continued. “But last I heard he’s still searching for her.” “Just him?” “I’m told he activated some Vahki to help with the hunt.” “Nothing we can’t handle, right?” Ithnen nodded to Vhalem. “What about the other Hagah?” Vhalem asked, ignoring her for the moment, “Widrek’s not doing this alone, is he?” “My sources say that Tuxar, Dhozoh, and Maliss are currently at the Coliseum, most likely planning their next move after this morning’s events. From what I can tell, Widrek is keeping this quiet and trying to sort it out himself.” “Why?” Ithnen asked. “I thought he was the sensible one… before he switched sides, at least.” “Widrek used to be at the top, when he was with us,” Pira pointed out, “Everyone looked up to him. Now he’s so unimportant they didn’t even let him in on their big meeting. I think he’s trying to win himself some favour.” Vhalem nodded his agreement. Pira was certainly no stranger to trying to prove her worth; he saw no reason not to trust her judgement on that topic. “So where are we going, exactly?” He asked Larone. “We have a series of rendezvous points and safehouses in Ta-Metru. If my people are on the run, they’ll move from one to the next, working their way out. We’ll work our way in, and meet them somewhere in the middle.” They soon left Le-Metru behind and entered the outskirts of Ta-Metru. Even here at its outermost edge there was a haze of heat and smoky smell to the air, and it only intensified as the transport moved further into the Metru. Structures of stone and steel rose high on all sides, adding to the choking sense of claustrophobia that came with being stuck in a city-sized kiln. Transports much like their own trundled around the area, transporting materials and fuel to or from the furnaces, while here and there Matoran used carts or baskets to carry around tools and Kanohi. Larone brought the transport to a stop outside the blackened shell of a long-abandoned building, and leaned forward to look through its empty windows into the seared interior. “Not here,” he said. As the transport started moving forward once more, Vhalem caught a glimpse of movement out the corner of his eye, a flicker of white flitting between buildings off to one side. He glanced back at his companions; Ithnen was looking out the other side of the transport, and Pira’s eyes were firmly forward, with neither of them appearing to have noticed anything. Vhalem pulled his bow-blade from his back and held it at the ready, plucking absently at the string. The transport inched its way past a foundry building, from which echoed the sharp clanging of metal. Scalding smoke and sizzling cinders spewed from its chimney, spilling a fine film of ash over the surrounding area. For a fleeting moment, Vhalem thought he saw another wraith-like figure hunched on the rooftop, its silver-white shape barely discernible through the dark smoke. It disappeared in the space of his next eyeblink. Brief though it had been, he was certain now that he’d seen something. Once could have been a trick of his mind, but twice was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Still… he hadn’t seen any Mesmers in white armour while he’d been at the Coliseum, and though there was likely enough smog cover for a Rahkshi to get around, it didn’t fit with the habits the creatures had shown so far. “You said Widrek activated some Vahki to help with the search,” Vhalem spoke up, now inspecting the rooftops and alleyways passing them by, “Do you know what kind?” “What? Why?” Larone brought the transport to a stop once more, this time leaning out to inspect an inconspicuous grate in a nearby alleyway. “Did anyone else see that?” Ithnen suddenly asked, pointing to something off in the distance. She lowered her hand, frowning, “It’s gone. I thought-” “I saw it,” Pira said softly. “I’ve been seeing things as well,” Vhalem said, casting his eyes upwards as he heard something scrabbling across a rooftop above them. “Larone? The Vahki?” “I don’t know. I was just told Vahki. I’d assume Nuurakh, with this being Ta-Metru.” “But all Vahki types are manufactured here, right?” Vhalem pressed, wracking his brains for what little he’d been told of the mechanical menaces. “The parts are made here. They’re usually taken to Po-Metru for assembly.” “Usually,” Vhalem repeated, “Not always? So there could be other Vahki here?” “What’s your point?” “The white Vahki. What’s their deal?” “Keerakh. They were the strategic ones… stealthy, ambush hunters… I heard they had some kind of prescience or predictive programming.” “That’s what I was worried about,” Vhalem grimaced, “We need to pick up the pace.” “Oh,” Ithnen breathed, drawing her throwing blades as she found her way to the same conclusion as Vhalem had. “What are you talking about?” Larone asked, speeding up the transport nonetheless. “If those things out there are Keerakh, the fact that we’re seeing them here means they’ve already predicted what route your people are going to take out of this Metru. The next time this Av-Matoran sticks her head out, Widrek will be waiting for her.”

Unfortunately, it appears Lego has asked for most of this content to be removed.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Ask Zanakra," she muttered, speaking the name as if it were a curse. @Smudge8

There's a thread here on BZP where the set designer talks about the original intention for Tarix. The blades were supposed to be a "stingray shield", and were actually designed to be held together in one hand. Somewhere along the way someone didn't get the memo and made the blades separate weapons, but the pieces can still fit together in the one hand as intended, as there's a slight, deliberate curve in the way the lower parts of the weapons are designed.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "I don't know what they're usually like..." she grumbled. "But it didn't have to be that way. If we'd taken the time to scout and search instead of walking right into a trap... maybe some it could've been avoided." @Smudge8

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa T'harrak went quiet for a few moments, contemplating the question. She'd seen death before, plenty of times; such was the harsh reality of a life on Zakaz. And it felt disingenuous to claim she hadn't killed before; even if she hadn't personally pulled the trigger most of the time, she understood all too well that the ammo and traps she'd helped manufacture in the past had taken lives. But still... "My first time on that kind of scale," she finally said, her tone bitter. "And all for nothing." @Smudge8

He's put out a video for the Glatorian era as well:

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "That... means a lot," T'harrak let out a relieved sigh. "Hopefully we won't have to go through anything like that again." @Smudge8

Chapter 26 – Destiny’s Design From the notes of Chronicler Crisda. It’s easy to stand by and say that lying is bad. And to be sure, it often is. But when a Toa tells a frightened Matoran that everything is going to be okay, when a Turaga tells his people that everything is under control, when one friend tells another that they’ll always look out for each other… these lies provide comfort, and prevent panic. Unity requires us to protect each other, and sometimes lies offer the greatest protection. All of us have, at one time or another, falsified facts to conceal a terrible truth. So that leaves me with the question: are all lies truly immoral? * * * Vhalem “Glad to see you’re still with us, Brother,” Ithnen sat down beside Vhalem, throwing an arm over his shoulder, “I heard you and the grumpy girl made friends with a Rahkshi?” “Pira’s not so bad. And I wouldn’t exactly say we made friends with it.” “It certainly sounds like you made friends with someone. You took an airhead you barely know on two tours of Onu-Metru before your actual Onu-Toa friend?” “Well, when you say it like that it almost sounds like I’m trying to replace you,” he chuckled, “Good thing you know me better.” “How bad is it out there?” “Very. We’re going to have to fight for this city. I don’t see any way around it.” “We’re ready. Me, Erdo, Tivni. If you or Mother give the word, we’re with you. We can do this.” “I know. I appreciate it.” “How is Mother, by the way?” “I just got out from checking up on her. She’s on the mend, they’re saying she should be back in fighting condition by tomorrow.” “Good. The thought of losing either one of you…” Ithnen shook her head, “…after everything we went through, everyone we lost, we didn’t come this far to lose.” “No, we didn’t,” he took one of her hands in his own, “I hate to ask this, but I need to know: how far are you willing to go?” “What do you mean?” “Widrek nearly killed Pira. Bihriis nearly killed Savnu. Both of them nearly killed me. So if it comes down to it, if there’s no other choice, if it’s us or them…” “You are my Brother, Vhalem. You’re my Team,” Ithnen said. “If it comes down to a choice between our friends or theirs, it’s no choice at all.” * * * Trina “There you are,” Icthilos said, running over to Trina. “Any news on the Rahkshi?” “Nothing useful. Pahlil only managed to follow it for a few blocks before it lost her. I imagine it’s hard to sneak up on someone who can read your mind.” “Another unanswered question,” Trina sighed, having long since lost count of all the things she didn’t know, “If you’re not busy, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” “I was about to say the same.” With the possibility of Orane spying on them from the safety of spirit form, (hopefully he hadn’t been around to listen in on Pira’s conversation with Trina) they grabbed some Suletus from storage, then made their way upstairs, to the same balcony where they’d spoken the previous night. No one else was around, as they’d hoped, preoccupied as they were with their reunions and conversations. “Do you want to go first, or should I?” He asked. “You’ve got your earnest face on, so I suspect yours is going to be a longer conversation,” Trina said, “Mine’s quick, but crazy.” “Let’s hear it, then.” “The Archives mission wasn’t a complete bust. Pira managed to bring back some Toa Disks, which Ilton is going to forge into new Kanohi for us. And she found something else. The Nuva Symbols.” She sensed a flurry of emotions and thoughts from Icthilos, half-formed ideas whirling wildly before he forced himself to refocus on the conversation at hand. “The Disks are good. Can we actually do anything with the symbols?” “Pira thinks she might have tapped into the Air one by accident already. I told her to hang on to them for now, and see if she can get them to work.” “You trust her with that kind of power?” “I trust her to try.” “Who else knows?” “Her. Me. Now you. Possibly the Mind Reading Rahkshi, and anyone Pira decides to tell.” “Keep it quiet for now, if you can. Some Toa might consider it sacrilegious to mess with relics from the Nuva.” “What about you?” “I know we have more important concerns.” “Like what? “Like what happened to me in the Archives.” Trina tried her best not to react. She’d been ready to question him about it herself; she was glad he’d chosen to open up without being asked, for once. “Makuta Vhel. He ambushed me. He’s the one who gave me the staff. He said that after he defeated us he’d make me use it to fix everything, as penance.” “But that’s not all he told you, is it?” Trina could read his face just as clearly as his thoughts. “He told you the Truth, didn’t he? The thing he told Widrek, the thing that drove everyone crazy?” “He did.” “Should I be worried?” “No.” “Are you going to tell me what it is?” “Saying it doesn’t do it justice. I’d need to show you… the way he showed me,” he reached up to tap his mask, “If you’re willing?” “It’s not going to… turn me evil or whatever, right?” “It’s just information. It can’t do anything. And I trust you to make the right choice once you know.” She nodded, withdrawing the limited mental defence the Sulteu provided and opening her mind. Icthilos leaned forward, resting his hands on her shoulders and pressing his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, and she closed hers. Images and information spilled into Trina’s mind. It began with Icthilos’ conversation with Makuta Vhel, and then became the story of another world, wracked by disunity and disaster. In the space of seconds, Trina witnessed eons of war and woe, the shattering of a planet and the creation of a universe, the making of the Makuta, the awakening of the universe, and the litany of misdeeds and mistakes that followed- She shoved Icthilos away from her with a wordless cry, flinging the mask from her face. “That- what was… what the Karz?” “I know. It’s a lot to take in.” “There’s no Destiny. No plan, no purpose,” Trina sputtered, “It’s all just… random chance?” “No, Trina,” Icthilos picked up Trina’s other Kanohi and pushed it into her hands, “That kind of thinking is what turned Widrek and the others against us. They think it doesn’t matter, that everything we did is for nothing.” “It is, though,” Trina snapped, pushing the mask onto her face. The rush of energy that came with it only invigorated her rage, and she shoved at Icthilos again, “You saw the same thing I did. We’ve lost our way.” “No, we made our own way,” Icthilos said. “We became more than we were meant to be, more than those who made us.” Trina stopped, weighing his words. “We don’t know what we’re doing.” “Don’t we? Whether it was by malfunction or coincidence or Destiny’s design, our species gained the ability to think, and choose. We made mistakes along the way, sure, but every Toa in this building made a conscious choice to defend and serve those weaker than themselves. Our makers, whoever or whatever they were… they couldn’t manage that.” He was right. In the vision she’d seen, the Great Beings had chosen to unleash killing machines upon their own people instead of seeking a peaceful resolution to the war. They’d abandoned them to their fate, created a 100,000 year contingency plan to repair the damage, instead of preventing it from happening in the first place. And there was something else, a detail so small yet so great in significance that it took her several moments to find the words for it. “Energised Protodermis,” she said. “Back then it destroyed and transformed, just like it does now.” “Exactly,” Icthilos nodded. “But it was before our creators even knew what it was. Before they made Mata Nui to decide our Destinies for us.” “Which means Destiny was never theirs to decide. Maybe they found a way to manipulate it to some extent, but clearly they didn’t create or control it.” “But what does that mean, for us?” “Maybe there’s no such thing as Destiny at all. Or maybe it’s everything.” “What do you mean?” “Our Destinies transform us. From Matoran, to Toa, to Turaga. Who’s to say that it isn’t Destiny what gave our race and all others the gift of sapience?” “That’s what you think?” “It’s what I choose to believe,” Icthilos said, “What I am, what I’ve done, it doesn’t feel like an accident or a mistake.” “It feels like… it means something,” Trina nodded. “We saved lives. We helped people. It mattered.” “But not everyone here feels the same way.” With eight simple words, Icthilos brought the brunt of reality bearing back down on Trina. She understood why Widrek and Maliss and the others had changed so profoundly, maddened by despair and defiance, futility and fear. “We can’t tell anyone,” She blurted out, the words escaping her before she’d even fully processed the severity of her suggestion, “We’d lose others. Even those that stayed would be… shaken.” “It’s more than that. Maliss told me that Vhel’s followers are actively trying to find the Great Spirit and return him to power. If they succeed… if the Great Spirit completes his mission and the Great Beings restore their world…” “…we wouldn’t be needed anymore,” Trina felt sick, “They were willing to kill their own people to try to save their world. They’d cast all of us aside without a second thought.” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She knew where this was going, what he was trying to say without speaking the words aloud. This wasn’t simply about saving the city. Potentially, this was about saving their entire species. “I don’t know what they know, but I might have a lead. Something they missed. I need to-” “The less I know, the better. Go.” “Thank you.” “Don’t.” Trina shook her head, “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. I don’t know if there is a right thing to do. I know we have the power to choose but I don’t know if we have the right to choose for everybody.” “Then I think it would be best for everyone if no one else ever knows.”

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "Oh... uh, you're welcome." That was not the reaction T'harrak had been expecting. Had she gotten herself worked up over nothing? "I just wanted to ask how you're going? After yesterday... I just... I'm sorry you almost got left behind." Once the words started tumbling out, there was no stopping them. "I didn't want to abandon you, or Ahuum, or anyone else, but I panicked... I didn't think anyone would even listen to me. It all just happened so fast." @Smudge8

IC: T’harrak – Fort Razorfish;Vaa “Yeah, that’s not happening,” she muttered as Sohmak disappeared down the stairs, his laughter lingering long after he’d left. She’d already had more first-hand experience in a fight than she’d ever wanted. She was in no rush to go through that again, especially not for the sake of someone else’s entertainment. Sarke certainly seemed to work as stress relief for some Skakdi, but getting beaten to a pulp wasn’t going to do anything to improve T’harrak’s own mental state. Her preferred method of letting off steam was lighting fires or blowing things up, somewhere far away from everyone else. Destroying inanimate objects was healthier than hurting other people, wasn’t it? Sighing wistfully, she bundled up her belongings and headed downstairs. A part of her just wanted to slink off straight back to her workshop and sleep off her stress. But she couldn’t just keep ignoring Jojax, and she’d just told Sohmak she’d talk to her. Going back on her word wouldn’t be of any benefit to the future of their working relationship. Returning her belongings to her workshop, she set off into the Fort in search of Jojax. After coming up empty in the mess and the barracks, she tried the meagre medical area, swiftly spotting Jojax speaking with another Skakdi. “Hey Jojax,” she cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt. Could we, uh… have a word? Somewhere away from everyone else?” @Smudge8

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "An'... 'pologies for gettin' off on the wrong foot with you two. If I knew the mess we was fallin' into I may've held my tongue. May've. Guess we'll never know." "It's fine. For what it's worth, I don't put much stock in first impressions," she said. "Out here, everyone always wants to prove that they're the biggest, the strongest, whatever... it's when people are comfortable enough to let me see the real them that I start paying attention. You've been quicker to do that than most." "Night's wearin' on, suppose we wind down work in a few and set up a watch?" "Sounds like a good idea," she nodded. "I'll add putting together proper work and watch schedules to my to-do list as well." It was already growing to be a long list. Longer than she'd anticipated when she'd first agreed to Sohmak's plan. She had more than a dozen points to cover written down in her notes, and dozens more possibilities bouncing around in her head. Hopefully she'd be keeping her head long enough to put them into action. The lingering worry that Fort Garsi might come looking for revenge refused to be banished from her mind. "Zanakra's boss digs! Where they at?" "Inside," she said, Sohmak's shout pulling her back to reality. "Downstairs. The big door decorated with fishbones." @Techn0geist OOC: From what I can tell, Zanakra's room was ever actually described, so I just made that up. I'm happy to edit if necessary.

I'm not sure where you pulled this info from, but to my knowledge, only Naho is canon. I've seen some of the other names used for fanon builds of the Mangai, but not necessarily for the elements you've listed here. I've also seen some of the other names from the map used for the Mangai instead. (Eg. the person who first suggested Naho as the Ga-Toa's name also suggested Tiro for the Po-Toa). Officially, none of the Mangai aside from Tuyet, Nidhiki, Lhikan, and Naho have been given names. It's also never been officially confirmed whether any of the other locations on Mata Nui were named after members of the Mangai. It's just as likely that they may have been named after friends of the Turaga Metru, or legendary figures from the Matoran Universe. (Eg. Mount Ihu is named after Nuju's mentor, and the Tren Krom break is named after an eldritch abomination). In the real world, it's because 2004 was a prequel and they hadn't invented the character when they made the map of Mata Nui years earlier. In-story, it's because they made him a celebrity instead. Vakama and Nuju made up a story about a legendary lava surfer named Lhii as a way of commemorating him without giving away prequel plot points.

IC: T'harrak - Fort Razorfish;Vaa "I hope so," she said, nodding. "I'll uh... get to drawing up a proper plan to run by you for the whole... everything. And I'll talk to Jojax next time I see her." @Techn0geist