Sparticus147

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "As for now, Vulimai, you have a choice. Silence or action. While Zaliyah's transmission is faint and I'm unsure if we can contact them, we can radio to Metru Nui. Maybe delay Aurax's efforts, keep him busy and potentially help Zaliyah indirectly, or negotiate a better deal. They don't know if we've heard Zaliyah's transmission or not, maybe use this as an opportunity to work out the details of the move to Metru-Nui with Aurax over the radio." Vulimai only let out a sigh at Knichou's suggestion, "After a radio broadcast announcing his treachery to the entire city and beyond, I don't think Aurax would be in the negotiating mood. And as for helping Zaliyah, assuming that would be something I would want to help with, what could we possibly do?" OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "...we'll cross that moat when we get to it." Walking over and taking a seat on one of the seats within the cockpit, Vulimai took in a deep breath as she covered her mouth with her hands, palms together, before setting them on her lap. Muttering to herself, anyone Knichou and Nale would faintly hear Vulimai speak, "This is fine. This is fine. This isn't the worst possible outcome..." It was taking all of Vulimai's strength to not simply collapse in upon herself. For some Matoran, their world came crashing down when the League attacked last night, others, when Mata-Nui died, and before that, some experienced the depths of despair when the League invaded Metru-Nui. But Vulimai, no, her world started falling apart long before then. She was a soldier after all, death was a normal part of the job, or so some might think, but being a soldier is either destroying someone else's world, or having your own destroyed. And it most certainly hasn't helped, that Vulimai has went from a mere sergeant, to a captain, to now leader of an entire village in a matter of two weeks. With barely constrained emotion, Vulimai spoke out loud, "This is...Fine. We can work with this...League are busy infighting, that gives us time to prepare. If Aurax wins, as long as it is the League fighting itself, and no Toa from Metru-Koro get involved, then we should be fine for peace. If...Zaliyah, wins, then maybe we will still have a chance. I don't personally know them but they were the head of the ambassadors that came. Maybe, and just maybe, if we're lucky, she isn't too bitter about Sans' insults...We can do this..." OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) Vulimai listened to the broadcast, silent and still, as it broadcasted from the radio. As the message ended and was overcome with static, Vulimai couldn't say anything for several moments...Till fury took her. If she could, she would have dashed her mask and shattered it to pieces in sheer anger as she cried out, "KARZING BRAKAS! What is happening in that city! Honestly, I...I don't even know what to do with this now! If Aurax lives, we can hope and assume his offer still stands, but the remaining League forces most certainly won't forget it! And if this Zaliyah succeeds, we won't have any sort of assurance that their new leader will be so willing to end the war! And...And...Wait a minute...Surrendered? Who negotiated a surrender?" Looking between the two, Vulimai's gaze settled on Nale. OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "I guess this will make my ownership of the mask as close to public knowledge as it gets. No way to hide a fleet of airships appearing out of nowhere. If that's the risk we have to take, then so be it." "Agreed, a part of me can understand why Sans didn't use the mask himself, though a part of me also doubted he knew how." Vulimai muttered the last part to herself before continuing, "But now, it is our best bet. I do not want to tempt misfortune by trying to cross that moat, and this is the only real solution I can think of except for hoping the League themselves have enough ships. Which I highly doubt." Vulimai stepped closer towards the door that lead out of the bridge, as she said one more thing to Knichou, "I will get with my quartermaster and see what remains of the armory, I will also have Matoran scrounging around within what remains of the salvage yard. And I am sure there are a number of Matoran from Le-Metru who have at least the basics on airship piloting, and if not, well, we can tether them like I have seen done before." Vulimai stood at the door for a few moments, wondering if either Toa in the room would have anything else to add. OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Zak-Yak (Underground) Zak-Yak followed along, his eyes squinting near shut as they slowly adjusted to the darkness of the tunnel. Zak-Yak hadn't been to the Undercity since he left the underground with Providence. From their several days of travel upon the surface, Zak-Yak's eyes had adapted remarkably well to the sunlight, with Zak-Yak even occasionally spending several minutes just staring at the sun, even with Providence constantly telling him that it's not healthy for him. But now back in the darkness of the underground, Zak-Yak couldn't help but strain his eyes, as it took several minutes for them to adjust, but even then, the world seemed just a bit dimmer than last he was there. This seemingly encroaching darkness left Zak-Yak unsettled by what should be his home. But Zak-Yak felt comforted by his friends. As they traveled farther down, the air growing colder, the warm, red, little beetles soon scurried away, returning to their nests, but they were promptly replaced by what some might call 'creepy crawlies', their many legs tenderly moving along Zak-Yak's frame. "It's... complicated. Some can still see, such as our companion, but many of us elder mesi have lost that ability." Zak-Yak overheard Marrow's words, as he offered a toothy smile and thought to himself, "Yes we have eyes, eyes to see who would hurt us...Hurt Zak-Yak, who, who?...No one, we're safe promise." OOC: @Burnmad @Nato the Traveler @Unreliable Narrator @Kal the Guardian IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "...As I was saying, what do you have in mind Vulimai?" "Yes...As I was saying. It's simple, we need a fleet to transport the populace. I do not want to risk multiple trips, in the even we leave someone behind. Metru-Koro must move together. We have plenty of scrap that you can use as materials, but something tells me that won't be necessary." OOC: @BULiK @Tarn IC: Apex (Grand Temple Ruins) “You. You have returned.” Apex let out a growl of annoyance at the Administrator's word. Not that the words annoyed Apex, but that the Administrator spoke at all annoyed Apex. "Yes, I have returned and I do not have any business with you, so unless you know of a way into the hive built into this temple, I would prefer your silence." OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Burnmad @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "...Isn't there somewhere else we could move the population? Somewhere further from Metru-Nui with more vegetation and natural defenses?" Vulimai let out a deep sigh as she clutched her brow, "You think I haven't thought of that. From what little scouting we were able to manage till we lost one of the parties to Skakdi, we only know this. To the east is an active and toxic volcano, to the north, is nothing but more desert and where we lost the scouting party to Skakdi, and to the south is a jungle, and the last people who returned there came back with some sort of ailment. It doesn't matter where we go, the Matoran aren't going to be safe anywhere on this island...But we can at least try for the safest option we can afford." "Look, I agree with you on that, I don't trust this Toa Aurax either, not one bit. And unlike other Matoran, I don't hold blind faith in the nobility of Toa, but I do hold faith in Toa Stannis, for when last I saw them, he was with this Aurax and another Toa. Knichou, my Duty is to my charges and their safety, and I do not want to risk it on praying for another option, I've already wasted enough lives on pray. This Aurax has announced peace, that means there is a chance, a chance, for the Matoran to have it." Vulimai momentarily halted in her speech, her words growing more emotional as the memories of war came to her. Toa, arriving on the battlefield to save the day, only for them to leave the next. Prays to Mata-Nui to protect them, as another enemy assault came crashing in. They were old memories, but memories that still cut just as sharply. Composing herself once more, Vulimai added one last thing, "I do not know what past you and this Aurax share, but I do not think it could be enough to make me completely lose hope." OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Vulimai (The Taku, Bridge) "...I know full well about what the Turaga gave Knichou. You don't have to worry about me." "Yes, Toa Knichou informed me that you also knew about the mask as well, that is why I am at least comfortable speaking about the mask, though...my plans are another matter." A moment of uncertainty flashed on Vulimai's face before she turned to Knichou and spoke, stern and commanding, "The Matoran cannot remain here in Metru-Koro. The village lacks any useful resources, even the scrap that was taken and salvaged after the crash has minimal use without someone to properly utilize it. There is no water nor fertile ground, what food we have been able to grow having only been possible through elemental means. Skakdi exist both above and below ground, as I have been recently informed, and any attempt at rebuilding would take too long and leave us open to attack. There is only one option...One option where I see the Matoran surviving for at least another day. We need to return to Metru-Nui." With her last words, Vulimai stared into the eyes of Knichou, and within that gaze, was the revelation that no amount of persuading was going to dissuade Vulimai from this path. OOC: @Tarn @BULiK

IC: Sala (Metru-Nui, Archives) “Uh..Uhm..Uhg...Dume?!” “Mmmm...Yes, it is indeed I, Turaga Dume of...Well, technically speaking, former Turaga Dume of Metru-Nui. No thanks to that greasy eel, Ehlek. I am going to presume that you haven’t come here upon his behalf nor under the sway of the Vahki. Am I wrong?” “Uh..No, no, no in fact, I just escaped from two of the Vahki not too long ago.” “Ah, well that is good to hear. Yes, it is a shame that this city has fallen into that cretin’s hands. I would curse those machines and their creator if it wasn’t for the fact that their creator built them to be defenders and keepers of this city. May Mata-Nui guide you, Nuparu.” As Dume spoke, something the Turaga said got snagged in the stream of thought that ran through Sala’s head, and as it was soon joined by the recent memory of the encounter with the Vahki, a line of questions sprung out and Sala vocalized his first question to the Turaga. “Wait a minute. Earlier when the Vahki went to apprehend me, they said ‘by order of Barraki Ehlek’. And what you just, about Ehlek...What about the other Barraki? Aren’t they here in Metru-Nui? Like Pridak?” As Sala asked his question, Dume couldn’t help but blankly stare for a moment, a deeply quizzical look plastered on the elder’s face, as Dume couldn’t believe that a citizen of Metru-Nui didn’t already know the answer to that question. “The other Barraki were...Killed, thankfully… By order of Ehlek when he claimed control of the Vahki and of the city.” “Wait! The Barraki are dead? Then, what of the Matoran, the Toa, the League’s armies?!” “Ehlek’s kindness in ridding the world of Pridak and the rest of his warlords didn’t extend over to the citizens of the city, as any remaining Toa were quickly captured and imprisoned and the Matoran were put under a strict watch and a rigorous regime by the now self-appointed overseer. And as for the League’s armies, they were promptly removed from the city, their fates unknown to me.” Sala took the information as his mind tried to process it, “The Toa, all of the Toa, captured and imprisoned? But how could all of the Toa have fallen like this. And what is happening to the Matoran, those Vahki mentioned something about production and hours, but what does that mean exactly. And that doesn’t explain why everything is so worn unless…Unless.” “D..Dume...How long has it been since the war ended?” Dume stroked the chin of his mask, as he pondered, deep in thought trying to correlate the days and nights that have passed since then. “If...I am not mistaken...I would saaay...Over thirty hundred years.” “Th..Th..Three...Thousand years! I..I..I’m in the future! But...The sky! It was still intact, as well as the two suns. That must only mean that the crash hasn’t happened, that we weren’t on the other Zakaz. Is that a...Good thing?” Sala wasn’t fully sure what to think of this place. Here, the Matoran still lived in Metru-Nui, but they were oppressed and made to serve under Ehlek. Here, Mata-Nui still lived, but his virtues have been suppressed as well. Did that mean this timeline had...Hope? A chance? A faint glimmer for another life, another time? As Sala thought of hope and redemption, Dume thought as well, “Who was this strange Matoran, one who seemed to lack the common knowledge of the world, of the fate of the war and of Metru-Nui? Who have now found themselves here, seemingly buoyed by Destiny, to meet I.” Caressing his hand on the metal frame of Avagah, Dume spoke once more to Sala, “Tell me, Su-Matoran...Who are you?..And what has brought you here to this portion of the Archives?” Snapping out of thought, Sala quickly replied, “Oh, I..I..I’m Sala. And well...This is my personal archival chamber. I had it built here to record my chronicles.” “Chronicles...You are a chronicler? I must admit, though I may be old and my memory isn’t what it once was, I do not believe that there has been a chronicler since even long before the war. And this chamber? Well it hasn’t been used since half that time.” “No, that..can’t be right. I had this chamber built for me forever ago. I would store everything I recorded here whenever I returned from my outings. I was there when the Barraki made their invasion.” “Well, I apologize for not knowing who you are Sala, though I do know that I do not lie when I say that this chamber has been abandoned for many decades...After the death of the last chronicler.” Sala reeled back, the implication of Dume’s words striking hard within him as his mind thought to rationalize the conflicting evidence. “A..Am I dead here? Or...Did I not exist here. Yet...I had to exist! At one point! I mean, how couldn’t I have, my records are here!” In the world outside of Sala’s mind, Dume spoke once more but Sala couldn’t hear through the distant fog that began to ripple into the chamber around him, spurred by his clouded thoughts. All around Sala, scrolls and tablets began to float off and dissipated into plumes of smoke and dust as the room itself started to fade and shift away. Reeling once more from the existentialism that came from finding out that you are dead in another timeline, Sala was snapped back to reality when a firm, yet not harmful, bop on the top of his Kanohi was felt as Dume went to catch the Su-Matoran’s attention with his Fire Staff. After Sala let out a brief exclamation and looked towards the Turaga, rubbing the top of his head, Dume repeated what he had said once more, “Now that you are listening and hopefully paying attention, I ask again that you come with me. These tunnels are not wholly safe, and it would be best to take you to where it is.” Trudging back over towards the door, Dume gestured with his free hand for Sala to follow. Climbing back inside of Avagah, Dume watched in hushed awe as the ACR rose to its feet with Sala inside, Sala beginning to trail behind the Turaga, giving his old chamber one last look. As the pair walked once more down the darkened tunnels of the Archives, Dume solemnly thought to himself “Maybe...Just maybe.” ~~~ As the two figures walked through the tight, dimly-lit corridors of the Archive, severe disrepair and lack of maintenance marking the way, Sala’s mind still lingered upon the haunting thoughts of his own mortality; of how he most likely died here in this timeline, how he could die in his current one, upon how many timelines there are where he had died, with how many times he had nearly died on Zakaz already. Faintly hearing the sound of breeze, Sala felt a rushing wind flying past him, faint cries upon it, and as Sala lowered his arms, having shielded his face from the detritrius that was kicked up, he noted the sudden disappearance of Dume. Quickly looking around himself, hoping to spy where the Turaga had gone, Sala saw as the world around him took a sudden shift. Cracks and crevices began to rapidly form and splinter all across the stoney walls, silver and golden light beginning to flow through in stark beams. As the lights first peeked through, they grew in size and intensity till gouts of light were coming through and enveloped the entire chamber as Sala felt the sudden rushing of wind beneath him. Plummeting, Sala saw as the walls that once made up the Archives began to shatter apart, before crumbling and disintegrating into the nothingness of the Far Shore. Falling even further down into the churning abyss, Sala fell past strands of silver and golden Protodermis, or did they rise up to meet him. Regardless, the strands warped and floated around him, forming a tangled ethereal web that stretched eternally, traces of light flowing through them like electrical currents. And as Sala fell, he eventually landed and found himself caught amongst the threads, suspended within the sky by these web-like strands that somehow still flowed like liquid metal. Struggling against the strands, Sala eventually freed himself, and balanced himself uneasily upon a few of them. Looking amongst the threads that wrapped all around him, looking for where to go, Sala noticed amongst the currents, the occasional glimmer of a sinister glow, one sickly green and haunting in appearance. Watching it glow, Sala saw as the glimmer grew more intense and rapid in its pulsing as it began to trace along the Protodermis strands...And as it did, the silver and gold soon turned black and shadowy as their form grew twisted and withered and Sala instinctively knew that he needed to get away. Turning and clambering away, Sala climbed up from one strand to another, each one clinging to Avagah, and though they didn’t hold fast on the ACR, they slowed its pace as Sala fled from the growing wave of shadow. And as Sala climbed, each thread weighed down by Sala’s struggle, he was inadvertently pulling himself down rather than up. With one final desperate reach, a hand came to meet his own, extending out of a blinding well of light. Desperately reaching up with all of his strength, Sala was just able to get hold as the hand pulled him up. ~~~ With a sharp gasp, Sala returned to the world around him, his senses once more becoming aware of his surroundings as he found himself lying on his backside, being pulled up by a tall figure. “Hey there buddy, you alright there, you took a bit of a tumble? Thank goodness you didn’t fall on anyone, hehe.” “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Um...What happened, why was I on the ground?” “Goodness, hit your head on the ground when you fell, didn’t ya.” The Toa figure said, as he tapped his first two fingers against the chassis of Avagah, continuing, “Well, it’s simple, you were walking through the street of Koro-Metru, somewhat dumbly no offense, and you just happened to walk into a street sign, that one right there in fact.” The Toa then pointed to a sign that was now halfway bent towards the pair, with an Onu-Matoran looking rather crossed that his sign was broken. “Oh...I’m sorry there. Uhm, you said Koro-Metru? Also, wait a minute, where’s Dume?” “I’m right here.” Sala jumped as the Turaga of fire made himself known. “Well, assuming you haven’t been listening to the past five minutes, once again, I’ll just quickly summarize it all. This is Koro-Metru, the last free Metru within the city. It is here that all the Matoran have gathered to escape the grasp of Ehlek’s oppression. And well, here you have its sole and only remaining Toa protector, Toa Juno.” Ice shot through Sala’s entire system as the name Juno was mentioned. Looking at the Toa, although obvious changes had happened, Sala could not mistake that sand-brown Mahiki, those shimmering green eyes. It was the same person, the same Toa, the same Matoran...The same sacrifice that gave Sala the Kraata that is now bound to his own neck. Sala couldn’t move, his whole body was locked, trapped, restrained, his mind racing with horrible visions of that fire-lit night. The sharp shadows, the intense heat, the snuffed-out cries. As Sala’s thoughts grew evermore poisonous, the mists of the Far Shore slowly flowed around him, the tendrils of silver and gold protodermis reaching up from the fog and starting to wrap around his feet and slowly up his legs, the strands swiftly withering and turning black as the green sickly glow came with it. As the strands now pulled, Sala momentarily felt himself to sink down into the mist, till another force took hold of him, this one restraining him too, but unlike the shock of seeing the face of Juno, this force was far more substantial, real, as it enshrouded his body in a familiar feeling that he couldn’t register at the moment. As a tug of war was held between the near-invisible force that enshrouded Sala’s body, and the shadowy tendrils that now sought to draw him into the depths of the Far Shore, Sala was brought back to reality and freed as a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Hey there, ya alright? You’re acting like you saw a ghost or something?” Sala’s attention once more centered upon Juno, who was looking at the Matoran with much concern. But that wasn’t the only thing Sala noticed, as the invisible force that held him and kept him from sinking lifted itself, and Sala felt the Kraata upon his spine twitch and settle once more. “Yo..Yo..You don’t eve...Oh Nui, I think I’m going to be sick.” “Oh goodness, we should get you out of tha-” Juno went to assist Sala in getting him out of Avagah, but as Juno’s hand touched the frame, intent on prying it open as gently as possible, Sala swung his arm out and shouted out against Juno’s actions. “NO! Don’t touch me! No..no...no...This..This...This is too much..too much..I gotta, I gotta…” Sala couldn’t say anything more as he stumbled back, panic flooding his body as he frantically looked around himself. And all around him, Matoran stared, confusion, fear, and worry on their faces, Juno was still reaching out but was unsure what else to do, and Dume simply stared at the proceeding in his stoic and thoughtful manner; but slowly rising, circling around Sala once more came the mist and the threads and the wind that howled. As the mists swirled around him and amongst the crowd, the Matoran’s faces soon shifted into looks of anguish, half-melted and scorched from molten Protodermis and searing plasma, Juno’s form changed to mirror those injuries he suffered before his demise, and Dume was cast within sharp shadows as his form was sliced in two by the blades of a Rhotuka, launched by an emerald green mass of shadow. Turning around, Sala fled, from the harrowing cries, from the grotesque image, from the mists and threads. No one could stop him and no one did, as Dume stopped Juno before the Toa could go running after Sala, simply shaking his head and uttering a few words only the Juno heard. To a far and distant portion of Koro-Metru, Sala hid away; from the horror, from the anguish, from his regrets. As he tucked himself away, his arms around his knees and his face buried in the chestpiece of Avagah, Sala shuddered as he attempted to hold himself together, the mists having followed him, now circling him like hungry Kavinikas, waiting to tear into his fragile mind. But something held, Sala. As the strands of shadow Protodermis slithered their way forwards towards Sala, a static barrier encapsulated him, giving the Su-Matoran an odd comforting feeling, like that of someone holding him tightly, securely, the illusion of vague words of comfort filling the back of his mind. Sala recognized this feeling this time, as it was the effect of his Kraata. But, he wasn’t causing it to trigger himself, it was...Going off on its own. Did it sense Sala’s fear, his distress, was it trying to protect him? But...This feeling, it felt too intentional, too sincere, like, it wasn’t an act purely born out of instinct. But Sala didn’t care at the moment, as any sign of comfort was enough for him, the static ward guarding him from the mists and shadows that hungrily bit and licked at the field of force. OOC: @Eyru @Unreliable Narrator @Vezok's Friend Second Part In Sala's Far Shore Adventures. IC: Captain Vulimai (The Taku) Following after Knichou, alongside Nale, Vulimai once again boarded the Taku and followed its captain to the bridge, where no one seemed to be at the moment. "What do you need?" Vulimai was moments from speaking before another Toa popped their head into the bridge, Vulimai recognizing them as the medic from before. "Knichou, I know this might not be the best time, but...Taku didn't make it out of the battle without any scratches. As soon as you get the chance, I need you to see the injured." "Okay. We can do that as soon as Vulimai is done saying what she needs to say." Vulimai looked with uncertainty between Triage and Knichou, unsure whether this new Toa should be privy to the information she was about to speak. Gesturing for Knichou to lean down, Vulimai whispered to them, gesturing to Triage, "Should I speak of the Kanohi in front of this one. Do you trust them?" OOC: @Tarn @BULiK IC: Apex (Grand Temple Ruins) Viltia wasn't the only one startled, as Apex instinctually readied for an attacked as the Toa of the Green did as well. But as a second past, recognition flashing between the two, Viltia spoke first, “Sorry about that. I thought you might be a Nui-Rama. How have you been?” Apex registered what Viltia said, but it still took the Aspects a few moments to fully relax as they rose back up from their crouched position, "It has been...Good. Why is it that I find you here, Toa of Green?" As Apex spoke, the Kraata worm, that had been making itself comfortable slithering along Apex' formed, relaxed itself from its coiled position from Apex' head and curled once more in a little loop. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Eyru @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) "Good, then lead the way." Vulimai said, as she gestured for Knichou to lead. OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) Vulimai waited and watched, and was left in silent awe as Knichou used her element to enshroud and emboss the iron slab with the form of the fallen Toa, ensuring that his visage and memory would never be forgotten, the copper Kanohi of victory marking their sacrifice in the line of Duty. It was an honorable gesture, one that Vulimai hoped to have made into a monument to the fallen, if Knichou would allow such. And...A part of Vulimai was also happy. Happy that this treatment wasn't wasted upon Turaga Sans, wherever his body may lie now. A part of Vulimai hoped his body was lost, that the citizens didn't still hold any attachment to their Turaga after this disaster...But Vulimai knew better, and she knew that some would still hold faith in their Turaga's actions, no matter how misguided they were. She just hoped that none would wish a monument in his honor, a request Vulimai wouldn't be able to refuse. But as the fires died down, and Matoran returned to their Duties, Vulimai and the Toa would be needed to return to their Duties as well. Stepping up next to Knichou, Vulimai let out a cough to catch the Toa of Iron's attention before speaking. "Toa Knichou, I require your assistance upon a matter. If you will, please follow me back to my hut so that we may discuss it in private, lest you have an alternative place more secure." Vulimai's words were commanding and urgent, but they were not harsh. Vulimai knew loss and saw how Knichou held onto the other Toa by his side, but Vulimai needed Knichou and only hoped that the Toa would not be too upset with Vulimai to deny their help. OOC: @BULiK @Tarn

IC: Apex (Fau Swamp) Through the swamp Apex and Morangad trudged, following a similar path they once walked before, till at last, they returned to the Grand Temple Ruins. Apex surveyed the structure, though no notable change was evident, obvious considering how soon they have returned. Breaking the clearing, Apex approached the stairs of the temple before entering the main corridor that lead into the central chamber. What Apex sought was clear, but unless Morangad asked, Apex did not yet feel inclined to share it. But as Apex entered the main chamber, Apex was surprised to find the familiar form of Viltia, and the vast bloom they made within the pool, bringing much more life to the structure. "He..llo?" OOC: @Burnmad @Eyru @Kal the Guardian

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) Vulimai exited the hut soon after Taja and Whisper, and ended up following the pair as a thin trail of smoke began to rise up not too far towards where the Taku was landed. Following just behind the two, Vulimai arrived at the funeral pyre of Datrox, where many of the other Matoran of the village now crowded, paying their respects to the fallen Toa. Looking amongst the faces of the Matoran, the same somber mood that held them after the bombing remained, but within their eyes, life burned, if not dimly like the embers that rose from Datrox' body. After the bombing, any hope and faith that remained had left the people of Metru-Koro, with all life and light being lost. It was a morose that held even the guards which Vulimai attempted to comfort, many still holding that same dead look when she dismissed them. But here, with this display, something about it tugged at the heartlights of the Matoran, as each one took part in giving their respects to one they didn't even know, with simply the act stirring sentiments of life and loss in the crowd, as offering of words of faith and passing were spoken beneath their breath, words of Unity, Duty, and Destiny...Words of faith that died upon the Matoran's arrival to this land. Vulimai allowed a weak smile, the pyre pulling up thoughts of Juno within Vulimai's mind...But she did not allow herself to dwell on such thoughts, no matter how much she desperately desired to do so. Juno was gone, and Vulimai had her duty. Swiping a tear away from beneath her Kaukau, Vulimai spied Knichou and approached them, silently waited for them to take notice, allowing them their brief moment of respite before they were called to uphold their Duty. OOC: @Eyru @Tarn @BULiK @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) Surprised appeared on Vulimai's face as Taja revealed her element, the surprise on Vulimai's face was long lasting though as she spoke to the duo, "I see, well, feel free to help throughout the settlement however you can, but keep in mind what I said concerning the power you told me. You may do whatever preparations are needed to begin giving it, but I demand that I am there for when you are ready to start giving it." With that, Vulimai allowed the Toa and the Aspect to leave, assuming they did not have anything else to ask or share. OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) Raising up her hand and pinching her brow, Vulimai let out a deep sigh, her mind lingering on the challenge her next course of actions were surely going to entail. "Well, if that is all, then I have a Duty to intend too. Though, Taja, I believe I have asked you this before but I didn't receive an answer from you at the time, your element, what is it? It could be quite useful in the rebuilding effort." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) "Aurax, I'm sure is a Toa in form only, not in title. But...I will admit that the Toa Code is something that I have seen broken many a time upon the battlefield, but war will do that to anyone. When in war, you do not not shoot to kill." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) "From what I have been told, it sounds like he is intent on ending the war. Which certainly makes my decision as leader a lot easier." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) Hearing Whisper's confirmation that there was, as far as Vulimai knew and perhaps even the Toa or the Aspect, no additional side-effects or requirements, Vulimai contemplated the offer for a few more moments before giving a final answer. "If this power is as beneficial as you say it is, then once some time has passed and the Matoran settle down, then I may accept your proposal. But Toa Taja, Metru-Koro has recently received important news that you must know. Pridak is dead, killed and replaced by a Toa known as Aurax, and though I do not personally know nor trust this Toa, I am sure that Toa Stannis was involved in this assassination." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro, Vulimai's Hut) Guiding the pair to her hut, Vulimai ushered the two end as she took her seat upon her mattress, offering Taja the only other chair within the space, Whisper was going to have to settle for sitting on the floor. With the trio settled, Vulimai gestured for Taja to share what she desired to speak with the now current-leader of Metru-Koro. Vulimai listened to Taja and Whisper on the secrets of this power that the pair seemingly found, with Vulimai contemplating on the merit of this right, Whisper's clarification thankfully preventing any form of misunderstanding. After several seconds of silent thought, Vulimai at last spoke. "I...See. This sounds like a potentially great boon, but even though you have listed the cost for this power, it feels just to good. Is there anything else of importance you know concerning this power. And to answer your question Whisper, we haven't yet needed to go hunting beyond into the wastes that surround Metru-Koro as rations was amongst the items taken during our exodus of Metru-Nui. In addition, we have also been able to create surprisingly prosperous greenhouses, though that may just be due to the benefit of a Skakdi of the Green who once worked there." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Eyru

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) "I...See. Well, we can either go to the New Archives or we could return to my own personal hut." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) "Alrighty then...Well Taja, it is glad we have you back, a lot of work needs to be done to repair the settlement after the attack." OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) "I..Am Vulimai, Captain and current leader of Metru-Koro. Pardon me but...What exactly are you?" OOC: @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) Vulimai spent her time after her speech patrolling through the streets of Metru-Koro, checking in on any citizens who may need help and offering orders to anyone who needed directions. It was tiring work, as Vulimai didn't give herself a moment of rest. She was leader now, and it was her Duty now to ensure the settlements security. Nearing the southern portion of the village, doing another patrol after directing two guards on where to take the remaining portions of rubble, Vulimai spied sight of two individuals? One seemed to be Toa, a Toa Vulimai actually recognized as Taja. The other...Well to call it an individual was something Vulimai wasn't sure was right. The thing, was more akin to some mass of tentacles, wings, and shadow and gave Vulimai chills at the sight. But Taja didn't seem alarm by it, and so Vulimai approached the pair wearily but not openly hostile. "Toa Taja, I see you have returned. And...You have brought...A companion?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Eyru

IC: Vulimai (Metru-Koro) It was past mid-day, with the sun having already gone past its peak and nearing the head of Mata-Nui to disappear once more, Vulimai at last left her hut, her resolve just strong enough to allow her to keep on going. Bronk, who had fallen asleep outside of the hut, promptly awoke upon his captain's exit of her home. Stepping out and surveying the wreckage once more, Vulimai took in a deep breath, and though deep sorrow still hung heavy upon her heartlight, Vulimai was still the captain and had a Duty to uphold to her charges. With a word and a gesture, Bronk rose from his spot and went on to enact his captain's orders. Passing through the streets once more, Vulimai witnessed the disparity and hopelessness that lined the faces of the Matoran. Many were now simply seated outside the remains of what once were there homes; some simply stared off out into the distance, their eyes glazed and lifeless, others sat in the comfort of their fellow Matoran, trying to process the events of light night, and others simply hide and prayed to a dead god and mourned the fallen. The sights wore heavy upon Vulimai, but her resolve only hardened even if her will withered. At last reaching her destination, Vulimai arrived at the New Archives, the surface level structure belying the size of the underground chambers. There Vulimai waited, as soon arriving came Bronk, alongside the remaining members of the Matoran guard. There before her, the guards lined up before Vulimai in their even, neat, disciplined lines, the display contrasting the harsh destruction that loomed behind them. To Vulimai's left stood Bronk, and soon came also Twesh, positioning himself to Bronk's left. Looking over towards Vulimai's right, Twesh was about to say something but was promptly stopped by Bronk, already knowing what the Le-Matoran was going to say. Surveying the ranks, Vulimai saw that many amongst the ranks held the same empty dead look that the citizens on the streets held, though, portions of the guard still held some form of resolve that Vulimai could see within their gaze and attentive stance. Good, Vulimai still needed some sturdy souls. Bronk essentially reading the mind of his captain, proceeded to call out a member within the ranks, one whose eyes still held strength. Stepping forth was a female Ta-Matoran, who hesitantly took a step out of line and stood before their captain. "G..G..Guard Matoran Sara, r..r..reporting for duty Captain Vulimai." "At ease Guard Matoran, tell me, what is the status of Metru-Koro after the attack?" Sara stuttered for a few moments, as she tried to estimate a sufficient answer for her Captain, "We h..h..haven't had the proper time to c..correlate ourselves but I can offer an e..e..estimate. Th..Th..Thankfully, no civilians died during the attack, as the smoke signal from G..G..Gree and Paya, both of whom have returned." Vulimai nodded as Sara spoke, glad to hear that those two had made it back alive, "In a..a..ddition, the conflict between the airships kept the L..League away long enough for the guards to rally and the citizens to escape." Sara paused, as the thought of the destruction from last night still freshly loomed in her mind, all the senseless loss and devastation. "F..F..From what I have s..seen...Over half the village was damaged, with a third completely destroyed. And...And...Th..The Guard also suffered losses, with nearly a fifth our number suffering from injuries if not...if not...if..if..." Vulimai reached out her hand as she clasped it on Sara's shoulders, steadying her as she reclaimed her composure. "Th..Thank you captain. B..But...That's not all." Vulimai looked towards Sara with momentary confusion before allowing her to continue, "A..A..After the attack, th..there was another one, not by the League though. Th..They came from underground. They were pale, sickly, some have claimed th..they were Sk..Sk..Skakdi but...I'm not so sure. The Guards attempting to fight them off b..but...Another dozen were harmed and some were...Captured...An..And...The New Archives, it was also hit, with over t..two dozen citizens being t..t..taken as well." Vulimai was taken aback by the news, as it stung that not only her own guards were harmed and loss, but her charges, her people, still suffered. As Vulimai thought, she noticed that the guard before her was near her limit, and so Vulimai dismissed her, ensuring them that they did everything they could and that their information was appreciated. After a brief, yet seemingly endless moment of silence, Vulimai at last spoke to her guards. The words that Vulimai spoke not being commanding nor inspiring, like they were the day before in preparation for the attacked. But rather, they were comforting and hopeful. "My fellows guards, my fellow Matoran...sigh...I commend you all for all that you have done, and I am glad that I was able to serve alongside you all. But...I give you this offer now for I recognize the look in your eyes, from my experiences in the field of battle. Many of you joined the guard in order to find purpose, to find Duty, and that protecting your fellow Matoran was the way to go. But I see now that many of you were not fit for the position, so I offer you honorific leave to part from the guard, if you so wish." At those words, murmurs broke amongst the Guard Matoran, with many once again focusing upon the present. But as some returned to attention, a few still remained apathetic, and a smaller few simply left, silently accepting the Captain's offer. "But know and do not fear that if you choose to leave that you are leaving your fellows without protection, for I and those who shall stay will remain vigilant. In addition, for those of you who have yet heard...The war is over. Pridak is dead. Slain by a Toa known as Aurax, accompanied and appointed as the new leader of the city by Toa Stannis." Gasp were heard amongst the crowd, for even those who heard Orieus' earlier announcement did not know of the influence of the legendary Toa Stannis, and though Vulimai stretched the truth in Stannis appointing Aurax as the new leader, she knew for certain that the wizen Toa was involved. "In addition to that news...I will confirm to you all, that yes, Turaga Sans has indeed fallen in protection to this settlement," To speak those words stung Vulimai's senses 'Curse that Brakas for escaping the aftermath of his consequences and leaving me with his mistakes' and as she thought to herself, Vulimai continued to speak, "But do not fear, for I, Captain Vulimai, shall take the position of leader till a suitable substitute may be found. May the memory of Sans remain within our heartlights, alongside all those who have fallen as well...As well as...As well as my second-in-command...Juno." The last word was said at a near whisper, but its weight still carried and loss struck the guards, who over the past two weeks had grown to love the joking Po-Matoran as much as they respected their Captain. In silent respect, the guards bowed their heads and held their heartlights, with Vulimai holding the greatest heart ache from the loss, the words nearly breaking her composure, Bronk remaining stoic by her side as Twesh began to fitfully fiddle with his fingers, his breathing growing shallow and ragged as Bronk took the Le-Matoran away to comfort them, leaving Vulimai to stand alone. As she always did, to deliver her final message. "My friends...I cannot thank you for your service, and I promise to you that the deaths here, that all the deaths! Will not be in vain. I promise to dutifully serve you, the people, as I always have. Now, as one last order from your captain, to those of you who are resigning...You are dismissed. Now please a life for as many as you can." And with that, the Guard Matoran dispersed, as Vulimai stood by herself, standing outside of the entrance to the New Archive, looking as the sun set behind the head of her dead god...One that she knew would not help them. Not now. Not ever.

IC: Apex (The Fau Swamp) Apex laid there in silence, tense anticipation and oppressive acceptance of the worst consuming her till Morangad spoke. "I should like to be your friend, Apex." And like that, the shroud of shadow that materialized both around and inside of Apex dissipated, as Apex rose her head to meet Morangad, surprise within her eyes, till it turned to the faintest hints of expressed joy till determination set in. Rising to her feet, Apex rose once more, her stance no longer burdened by the weight she felt prior, as she was now ready to seek what she desire. Turning towards Morangad as she walked a few paces in her now set path, Apex called out as she waited for her friend to join her, "Then come Morangad, my friend, our goal still stands and where we head off too is where our journey shall continue." OOC: @Burnmad @Unreliable Narrator Apex is planning on seeking the Nui-Rama nest within the Grand Temple Ruins. IC: Drukarus & Gore Fury (Fort Nektann, Mess Hall) Drukarus returned to his meal, his attentionally seemingly no longer upon Grime, but to any more astute would notice that the former warlord's attention still lingered upon the Matoran, any Grime would have noticed it when he and Drukarus' gaze meant when the Matoran looked towards the former warlord, though whether it was the warlord or the dark presence he carried with himself, Drukarus did not know. Drukarus listened closely to the words which Grime spoke to Stannis and Korruhn as well as he could, through the rapture of the Skakdi in the hall, and even if the words were masked and lost, Drukarus could still make out portions. What those portions were, that would be only for Drukarus to know and to potentially reveal when he felt it suited. But even as Stannis dashed out of the hall, another thought held the Ba-Skakdi, with only Stannis' leave giving Drukarus the opportunity he sought without risk of being overheard by the sage. Rising from his spot, Drukarus moved to claim the seat that Stannis once sat in, to the immediate left of Barius, and as Drukarus made a display to make what he said to be masked under casual chatter rather than urgent curiousity. "So tell me...Barius...What is your intentions now with the prophet...Stannis? And why was it you allowed him and his companion to enter this fort?" ~~~ As Stannis and Korruhn asked questions of mystic import, Barius, Drukarus and Parnassus observed the masses, Gore went ahead and partook of the feast he made while galivanting and conversing with the other Skaks, his natural charm and the fact that he was the cook granting him great praise and repour with the Skakdi within the mess hall. But the passing of Stannis through the mass and out of the hall did not escape the jolly Su-Skakdi's sight, and out of concern for the sage, Gore followed behind them, dragging along the near-emptied pot of stew and a rotisserie Fusi with a sizeable-bite already taken out of it. OOC: @Burnmad @Unreliable Narrator @EmperorWhenua @Conway IC: Zak-Yak (The Underground) "Correct. I am two become one, who is still two.” Zak-Yak heard Hahvok's words, but they did not immediately click as the mind of Zak-Yak tried to understand, till one of the voices spoke out. As Zak-Yak stared towards Hahvok with confusion and curiosity, a tired and weary look took the Mesi as some form of rationalized understanding came. "Zak-Yak...We...I think I understand. Like...More than one voice speaks, voices different from each other. I have voices too. One kind but scared, the other spiteful and vengeful. Yes?" OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Burnmad @Nato the Traveler @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Sala (The Far Shore?) Passing through the tear, Sala was instantly met with a heartlight stopping chill, one colder than even the chill he felt back within at the Air Suva ruins. It was an empty cold, one lacking even the assurance of a physical object to grasp, to brace against the infinite void borne frost. But as quickly as the cold came, a great burning heat followed it as it raced up through Sala’s extremities and nervous circuitry. It seared his systems and forced a coldsnap sweat to break out across his body as his nerves strained and struggled against it...Till at last, Sala awoke, the pain and agony he felt through his transit now only a vague memory, long distant and near forgotten. Bolting straight back up from where he awoke on the ground, Sala pressed his hand against his heartlight as it slowed its beating, finding himself on a seemingly empty city street. No wait, it wasn’t any old city street, it was...It was Metru-Nui! Metru-Nui as Sala remembered it, but before the crash. It was a miracle, one that Sala could only momentarily marvel at before realizing something, something that shot panicked concern through the Matoran’s form. Where was Avagah? Racing up onto his feet and looking about his immediate surroundings, Sala let out a deep sigh of relief when he saw that Avagah was simply slumped over against a nearby wall, its chest cavity open, waiting for Sala to reembark. Hopping back into the ACR and closing its main hatch, Sala once more rose within the ACR, now curious where exactly in Metru-Nui he was. Travelling along the street he awoke upon, Sala surveyed the surrounding cityscape, the towering structures lining the refined streets that paved his path forwards, with the occasional chute pipe rushing overhead. But as Sala wandered and traveled, he was left stumped and confused. Where was he? There weren’t any great stone statues of bygone heroes or boreholes leading into ancient tunnels filled with half-forgotten knowledge, there wasn’t the deafening quiet and freezing cold or metal clangs and sweltering heat, nor even a single pool or tributary of protodermis or tangled mass of wires and cables. It was almost as if...Sala found himself in a version of the city, where all the life and personality that made it was gone. Speaking of which, where were the other Matoran? Those who gave the city such life. Why were they not on the streets, going about their daily lives, living in their routine? Sala wondered this and more as he eventually found himself standing at an intersection , and scratching the side of his Kanohi as he pondered on where to go, an electronic brrr of noise sounded out from behind him, the sound of it being harsh and artificial. Turning around, Sala saw before him two Keerakh-class Vahki, both of which were steadily approaching him. As the pair neared, one of the Keerakhs spoke to its companion once more in that indecephable electronic whine before addressing Sala directly in its still artificial sounding voice. “Halt citizen. By order of Barraki Ehlek, identify yourself, and inform us, why you are outside of mandated citizen production hours?” Sala’s heartlight skipped a beat as the Barraki’s name was said, “BARRAKI?! No no no no no, this can’t be right. How could the Barraki have control over the Vahki, over Metr...Oh..oh no. Nuju mentioned this, how the Far Shore was a convergence point of timelines, and I had to just end up in the one where the Barraki won! WHY?!” As Sala was momentarily stunned in his own thoughts, the Keerahk that spoke earlier stepped closer to Sala before looking at the face of Avagah. “Initiating citizen identification scan...Processing...Scan complete...Citizen identity. NOT FOUND!” In a rapid motion, the Keerahk leaped back as it readied its staves alongside its companion shouting out a command to Sala, “Halt! And surrender yourself for immediate citizen processing, by order of Barraki Ehlek!” But before Sala could even react, let alone respond to the command, the other Keerahk let loose a blast from its twin staves, and as the beam struck Avagah...Nothing happened. Seizing the opportunity, Sala swiftly swiveled on his heels before immediately bolting the opposite direction, the two Vhaki momentarily confused on why the staff wasn’t taking effect before they too leapt forwards, swiveling mid-air into their quadrupedal configuration and giving chase. As Sala ran, with the Vahki in hot pursuit, them occasionally repeating their earlier command, Sala realized something. He hadn’t until now been given a chance to fully see what Avagah was capable of. Back in the Fau Swamp, Sala and Sorilax would simply sneak past or circumnavigate most dangers that the swamp presented, and when that failed, a simple display of strength of the two was enough to discourage most other Rahi. But now, Sala was able to fully appreciate and experience the mechanical marvel that was Avagah, as the ACR’s systems whirred and hummed, with pistons slamming down before rising back up and motors spinning to their limits, with the electrical signals that came from Sala’s mind quickly being made into solid actions. Within Avagah, Sala didn’t have to worry about growing exhausted and suffering from fatigue, but unfortunately, the Vahki pursuing him were also immune to such a problem. At this rate, Sala knew that he couldn’t just outrun the Vahki and soon more of the mechanical enforcers would descend upon him. What Sala needed now was a plan, some easy way to escape and lose the Vhaki, and as Sala thought of where he could possibly go, his thoughts turned to the Archives. And as Sala thought of the Archives, a shift rippled through reality, one that neither Sala nor the Vahki noticed...But the effects of it promptly began. All around Sala, the structures and streets began to warp and wobble, soon splitting into ethereal visages of themselves. In addition, the sky above Sala, what was once day, imperceptibly yet near instantly grew to be swallowed by a churning tapestry of stars and constellations, the only hints of the previous tapestry being the twin suns that eternally held true above Metru-Nui, now planted against a background they did not belong too. Fleeing through the now fleeting image of Metru-Nui, Sala stopped and nearly fell back onto his rear end as he swung his arms in order to avoid falling over an edge that suddenly appeared before him, with it falling into a massive churning void that materialized beneath him. And before Sala could keep on going, he saw as all around him the city that once was began to disassemble and float off away from each other, creating several floating masses of varying sizes that once formed the city streets and buildings. Looking back behind himself, Sala saw as the Vahki also seemed to hesitate in their pursuit as they looked at the sudden and unusual shift in Metru-Nui’s topography. Yet, this sudden shift and perturbment didn’t halt the Vahki for long, as they immediately leapt back into the air and shifted into a form more aerodynamically suitable as they began to levitate after Sala, continuing their pursuit. Not even given a moment to breathe, Sala continued forth, using all the strength he could muster to leap from one floating piece of road work to the other, and although Sala was making progress through the floating mess suspended in a mist of stars, it was all to apparent that it wasn’t going to be enough to outpace the aerial superiority of the Vahki. And as the Vahki neared close, ready to land upon Sala and the ACR he was in before at last apprehending him, the mists that surrounded them shifted, till all together it began to swirl and race as a great howling gale materialized all around the plane. But the gale was more than just a shearing wind, it was one filled with wails, moans, and screams, the faces of the desperate, lost, and forgotten, pleading to those lost and strewn across time and space. Instantly, the Vahki were ripped from their flight paths and sent flying far behind Sala as spectral hands clawed and tore at the mechanical constructs, the wind’s grasp digging deep and viciously, though the words which with the shades were speaking made their actions seem to be less out of wrath, but rather out of desperation to be free from their own torment. But for Sala, he was just able to keep his footing solid as he crouched low, digging into the quickly weathering street beneath himself as the winds still tore at the frame that was Avagah. At that moment, Sala knew that if he didn’t do something soon, these baleful winds were going to strip Avagah from himself and then tear into his own frame, rending muscle to circuits. But what could he do, what did he have on hand that could stop such a vicious wind...Wait...WIND! Reaching behind himself with his one free hand, the joints of Avagah fighting to not be torn from their sockets, Avagah’s hand grasped around an emerald green hilt and swung forth. Bringing forth to bare his own gale, the winds were sliced through by the air hatchet that Sala claimed from the Air Suva, bringing the Su-Matoran a momentary respite from the terrible assault. But still, the sounds of the windborne spirits continued and Sala knew that he needed shelter. Now! Frantically looking about, Sala’s sanctuary came into sight, as breaching through the churning chaos and floating masses of ground came rising towards Sala waa a Metruan skyscraper, the large structure being a hopeful shelter against the horrors of this realm. But it couldn’t come closer any sooner, as the winds seemed to rally into a singular sapient jetstream and directed its attention to Sala specifically and readied to blow the Su-Matoran into oblivion. Readying himself, Sala knew he was going to have to jump it, and so taking a single step back and leaning forwards, Sala readied himself...And bolted forth, the gaseous stream of death swiftly moving into action just behind him. One powerful step after the other, with one great stride came another, and as Sala ran forth to the edge of the floating island he was on, he soon neared the edge, the slipstream coming at his heels, its cries growing into a singular deafening plea. “SAAAVE USSS! FREEEE USSS! JOOOIN USSS!” And with one last step, Sala took the plunge. Bracing himself, Sala hit the window of the skyscraper as the glass shattered upon impact, and with just enough control over himself, he braced himself upon impact as he whirled around, axe in hand, ready to defend himself...Only to find a dimly lit tunnel greeting him instead. Returning the hatchet to where he had been carrying it, Sala briefly looked around himself and instantly realized where he was now, the Archives. As Sala attempted to understand what had happened, his mind racing a million kios a second, Sala began to whisper/mutter out his own thoughts to himself, “Wait? What? How did I? What? This..This makes no sense! I was ju..jus..just on the streets of Metru-Who-Knows-Where and now I’m here in the Archives? And well, looking at this place, I’m most certainly am in one of the lower levels, the less maintained ones. Great. But that doesn’t explain how I got here!..Well, everything I just experienced I can’t explain. Was that the Far Shore? What were those things? Thing? Could I even call it a thing? Siiiiigh, guess there is no point in asking all this if there isn’t anyone to answer any of it. Better get moving.” Turning around, Sala began to stumble through the passage before him, his hand brushing along the wall as not to miss any other passages within the glow of the faded lightstone. But as Sala passed through the halls and corridors, an odd feeling began to nag at the back of Sala’s mind as he made his way forwards till he had to stop and vocalize the feeling. “Wait a minute, I think I remember this place?” And almost as if to test the Su-Matoran’s memory, the outline of a door soon came into sight. Stepping forwards with an equally weary yet hurried step, Sala reached the door and read the heavily worn script that was upon it, before being flooded with confusion at what he had just read. “No, tha..that can’t be right? How would this section be so worn? Why haven’t the lightstones been replaced? This should be a well-maintained section, how could it have become like this?” Sala fretfully thought to himself on whether or not he had read the runes right, and whether it was the dim lighting, heavy erosion, or his recent traumatic encounter making him think he read what he had read. But not allowing himself to devolve any further into pointless postulating, Sala went into action as he opened the door. As the door swung forth, a loud screech coming from the rusted hinges, and Sala was left stunned as he looked inside to the uncannily familiar sight. It...It was his personal archival chamber, the one where he kept all his scrolls and tablets of his journeys, and look, there was even the miniature Amaja circle that he had ordered to be made in the back corner. But what didn’t make sense was how old it all looked, the scrolls were yellow with age, their ends frayed, the tablets were worn and near indecipherable, and across everything was a dense layer of dust that choked the air. Stepping forth into the chamber, Sala couldn’t keep himself from leaving the safe confines of Avagah as he stepped out of the ACR, taking in the sight of his seemingly long abandoned home, the fruits of labor, now rotten from disuse. Picking up one of the scrolls, Sala gingerly attempted to unravel it, but was only met with the sickening sound of the scroll tearing as the reams of paper had long ago fused together, with the scroll he held falling to shreds. Blankly staring at the shreds as they floated down onto the stone floor, Sala’s stomach churned at the sight of his work, now ruined and lost, a hot flash of frustration ran through the Su-Matoran’s mind as the corners of his optics grew laden with burning tears. But before Sala could do anything more, an old, weary, tired voice came out, yet even in his incredibly venerable age, the speaker still held a commanding tone, fitting for someone of his position. “If Ehlek thinks he and his Vahki are going to take this old Turaga without a fight, then they are surely mistaken.” Turning around, Sala was left to only numbly fumble with his mouth as he stared towards the Turaga before him, the last thing he heard about them being their assassination. “Well? Speak! Or are you another poor citizen who has been put under the Vahki’s control?” “Uh..Uhm..Uhg...Dume?!” OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Vezok's Friend @Eyru The first part of many for Sala's Far Shore Adventures.