Eyru

IC: Reliable Narrator | Irnakk's Tooth Cravious swept the volcanic landscape with his vision powers. The mountain was composed of black rock, the evidence of eruptions in ages past. A thin film of dust and ash covered everything; even though he had only been standing here for a few minutes, Cravious felt grimy already. The overcast sky was made darker by the pall of black smoke that drifted endlessly from the volcano, casting the mountain in a perpetual twilight that was lit only by trickling streams of glowing lava. Thankfully, the Skakdi's X-Ray powers would make it easier for him to see in the dim light. He scanned the mountain thoroughly, with all the patience in the world. Now and then, a jet of volcanic gases would burst from a vent here or there, startling him if he wasn't prepared for it. Centuries of lava flow had decorated the volcano's slopes with ridges and hollows and all sorts of strange rock formations. Any one of them could easily be mistaken for a shrine or a secret place, but a careful investigation of each potential location yielded nothing. Hours passed before Cravious finally spotted something. Looking through the rock, he spotted a small shrine of sorts perched over a slowly-flowing river of lava. However, there didn't appear to be any way to access it from the surface: his X-Ray vision found the outline of a tunnel but it was quickly lost in a squiggle of other tunnels that wrapped around each other in the depths of the volcano. If he wanted to get there, he would need to enter the Tooth. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~

IC: Taja | Desert "It is," she agreed, speaking almost before she realized what she was saying. "I won't argue that killing can sometimes be necessary. Hunting, self-defense... those are times when it's okay. When one life can be saved by taking another's. "But for sport?" she frowned. "Or just because you can? We believe it's wrong. Life is too precious to be taken for no reason. At least, that's what we believe." OOC: @Nato the Traveler IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius emerged from the half-ruined building into the afternoon sunshine. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he felt lighter. Like the burden of responsibility had finally fallen from his shoulders. Who cared what happened to the League soldiers? If the people of the village decided to let them go, then he would not stand in their way. And if they chose to seek shelter under Aurax's throne, then he would let them go. The war was over. It was hard, but he had to let it go. These younger beings were still old enough to make their own choices. But he would still protect his people, the Matoran, as he had always done. The remnants of their civilization could not be lost. And that meant getting them out of this forsaken place. He looked around as he walked towards the edge of town. Metru-Koro was a fool's dream—a barely-there settlement with nothing to its name but sand and barren rock. He had been under the impression that it was only a refugee camp, and that Turaga Sans would shepherd the people away from Metru Nui. Seek refuge elsewhere on the island. Evidently, Sans had changed his mind or been outvoted. But now was as good a time as any to make a new beginning. First, he needed to find a safe place. He thought about it as he opened the door to his ship. He recalled Sans saying something about another settlement to the north. Po-Koro? That sounded right. He would go investigate and see if it was in any better shape. "Welcome back, captain," the AI said as the airship rumbled to life. "Shut it," he replied. The airship rose soundlessly from the ground as it turned its nose to the north. Within minutes, Metru-Koro looked like a pile of children's blocks on the sands far below.

IC: Taja | Desert Taja opened her mouth to reply, then closed it. Every explanation that came to mind hinged on Whisper knowing something about life in her old universe, or Matoran society, or their legends and stories and customs. How could she boil it all down into facts that her companion could understand? But each footstep reminded her that they had nothing but time, so she took a long moment to sort her thoughts, then tried her best. "My people believe that it is... better not to kill. Even our warriors, the Toa—" she gestured to herself. "—follow a code that forbids killing your enemies except as a last resort. Otherwise, death should be avoided at all costs. "To follow from that," she continued. "People who adhere to this code are good, and people who don't are evil. Good people don't take lives unless it's absolutely necessary. Evil people will do anything to achieve their goals, even if that means hurting or killing others. And it's better to be good than to be evil." She glanced at Whisper, hoping the Aspect was following along. She wasn't sure how much sense this was making. OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Desert "I think so," Taja replied. "My people don't like killing. Not if they can help it. We've always seen ourselves as, well, the good guys. Even in this new land, most of us would hesitate to break that rule. But if you can offer power without such a price... well, I hope they'll take it." OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | The Desert That was the difference between Aspects and other beings, Taja supposed. Her body, as unfamiliar and awkward as it sometimes felt, was still her. Whisper, on the other hand, had dwelt in her form for years, and it was still nothing more than a container to house her actual essence. She guessed that was why the Aspect craved life so badly. To live in one body for so long and still feel like it wasn't actually you... it had to be alienating. Of course she would want something more. As the pair travelled further into the desert, Taja was unaware of small changes taking place in her own body. Miniscule vents slowly formed here and there in her armour, to allow for better ventilation of the desert heat. Her optical sensors gradually dimmed, reducing the glare of the sands. The power Whisper had given her was so subtle as to be almost unnoticeable, but it was there all the same. OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp The Fau Swamp survived contact with the Skakdi by being deadlier than they were. While other verdant areas to the north were scoured of life and reduced to sand, the swamp chose instead to evolve. Swallowing the oil and fumes from their ACRs and drinking deep of the poison that coated their blades, the marshes slowly became toxic themselves. Weird bacteria and viruses thrived in the stagnant waters, carrying diseases that could turn organs to glass and cause flesh to rot from the bone. The trees drank from these waters and grew twisted and strange in turn. Their leaves became barbed and slick with venom. Their bark, once soft and smooth, had often been harvested and boiled in water to make a medicinal tea that soothed the stomach. But it slowly became hard and brittle, and the tea made with it was so bitter that drinkers would spit it out, their mouths black with ashy residue and their stomachs still sore. The Rahi of the swamp learned to survive in this environment, or they died. There was no in-between. The friendly birds and bushy-tailed foxes were devoured by larger and more dangerous animals. Vultures with vast wings and sharp talons. Tree-dwelling cats with long teeth that leaped down on their quarry from above, screaming as they fell. Insects the size of Matoran whose multifaceted eyes were devoid of mercy, whose chittering mandibles devoured their prey while it was still alive. Slinking reptiles with venom-dripping fangs—one bite could incapacitate even a Kane-Ra, leaving them twitching helplessly on the ground. In this way, the swamp changed and survived. The Warskaks learned to avoid the jungle unless absolutely necessary: the wheels of their ACRs got stuck in the muck, and their bullets were useless against Rahi with rock-like hides. Only when a warrior sought the gift of the Aspects would they dare traverse the marshes in search of Desecration Rock. Otherwise, they stayed north. The swamp became the apex predator on the island, bowing only to the might of the Tahtorahk, which even its waters could not poison and its creatures could not defy. And so the Fau Swamp grew comfortable, and complacent. And when the villagers of Le-Metru Nuva dared to make their home in its trees, it found itself unable to oust them. They navigated the fatal waters and avoided the aggressive Rahi; they identified which trees were safe to climb, and which trees grew branches lined with miniscule spikes. They learned to live in the jungle, finding a foothold where they could survive, and they soon became a part of it. The swamp grudgingly accepted them, for it could not kill them. Its predators learned to avoid the fledgling village, lest they be struck by a projectile that could freeze them in place or shrink them to the size of a Hoto bug. The trees grew around their platforms, grateful that the villagers kept their branches free from leaf-eating pests and bark-burrowing beetles. But the swamp, although deadly, was not the only force on the island to worry about. The villager of Le-Metru Nuva knew this, but they did not know how dangerous these other powers could be. As Viltia swung her hammer with a practiced arm, she was unaware that, a desert away, an Aspect of Makuta was standing over a mutated body. As Spark and Match argued over an opened backpack, they were unaware of the Aspect reaching up to the sky, reaching for a star that they could swallow. As Beruv pumped the bellows of the furnace, heating a chunk of ore until it began to sweat silver droplets, he was unaware of a star high above the island winking out like it had never been. The bellows inhaled, and Axxon drew a breath. Several kio away, a Muaka emitted a startled rowr as it became suddenly weak. Its heartlight dimmed, and its eyes closed. Its claws loosened their grip, and it toppled from the branch where it had been sitting. Its lifeless body fell to the jungle floor far below, where it would became a feast for scavengers and insects. In this way, the swamp would absorb the dead creature into itself to foster new life. Even in this toxic place, the circle of life continued. The cycle could not be denied. The swamp settled back into its rhythm as scavengers descended upon the carcass. A desert away, Axxon opened his eyes.

IC: Taja | Desert Outskirts Taja nodded. She was envious of that freedom. She still didn't feel fully comfortable in her Toa body—as evidenced by her tripping over things and stumbling around the swamp like a three-legged Kane-Ra. And then there was the issue of her Shadow powers. Although she was beginning to understand and control them, she missed the enhanced hearing she'd had as a Matoran, and as well as the powers over sound she'd briefly wielded as a Toa. Those abilities had felt so much more natural to use, like an extension of herself. In contrast, these new powers required her to think in different ways, to bend her mind to understand how shadows interacted with their environment. It was getting easier, but she was still far from where she wanted to be. "Do Aspects change their forms often?" she asked, stepping around a sunken patch of sand. "Or do they usually stay in the same body... forever?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Outskirt Fascinating. The story of her body reflected Whisper's admiration for life, and her desire to have it for herself. Taja looked down at her own hands, so recently changed to those of a Toa, and then again to a Toa of Shadow. What would she change if she could control what she looked like? Would she still choose the shape of a Toa? Would she return to a Matoran's body, to something comfortable and familiar? Or would she try something totally different, something as alien to her current form as Whisper's was? The idea of having a choice was alien in and of itself. In her old life, the idea that anyone could decide who they wanted to be was as foreign as these new stars. The Great Spirit decided your destiny, and if that included transformation, so be it. Otherwise, it was one's duty to live and work as a Matoran, and fulfil your duties as befit your status. Here, in this new world, the possibilities seemed endless by comparison. The variety of choices and possibilities was terrifying, like standing on the edge of a precipice—but it was also exhilarating. With the rules and laws of her old life left behind, Taja felt like she truly could be anyone. If she was to be a hero, a Toa, it would be because she chose to, and not because it was prescribed for her. They continued walking, passing slowly out of the thinning jungle. Before them, the gradient of the ground changed from green to brown as grass gave way to rock and sand. They had reached the edge of the swamp. Now the desert laid before them. "If you achieve your wish... would you stay in this form? Or choose something else?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Outskirts "Why did you choose your form?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Outskirts "Yes," she said softly. "It has." If there was one thing Taja could agree on, it was that things had changed. Two weeks ago, she had been a Matoran academic living in the most advanced city in the universe. Since then, she had found a Great Disk, become a Toa, witnessed the end of the world, changed her element, and set off across a hostile land on a quest for knowledge. Saying much has changed was accurate, but it seemed to fall short of expressing just how different things were. Maybe it would be better to say everything had changed. "So," she said at last. "Are all of your kind so... different from each other? The Aspect we met in the ruins was as similar to you as a Tarakava is to me." OOC: @Nato the Traveler

Update: the GMs have decided that the silver lake is a viable source of defiled Energized Protodermis, and can be used for Taboos. Keep in mind that using defiled EP to create a kraata or a Rahkshi means their power is chosen at random. If you want to create a specific type of kraata, you will need to use purified EP.

IC: ??? | Fortress Ruins Darkness. Then light. Axxon opened his eyes. The world was a smear of colour. His eyes struggled to focus. His chest heaved like this was his first breath in a long time. His fingers scrabbled at the dirt. He pushed against the ground. He sat up, breathing hard, and looked around, blinking away his bleariness. His surroundings slowly swam into focus. The blackened ground. The rippling lake. The overcast sky. It was only then that he noticed the pain was gone. The agony that had defied description. The suffering that had pervaded every cell of his body. It was gone, and the absence was like the silence that follows noise. So quiet as to be loud. The relief washed over him like a wave, and his eyes welled up with tears. The curse of the Great Disks was broken. But how? He remembered standing guard over the Forgemaster as he brought the disks into being. Each blow of the hammer had reverberated through his very soul. The disks, he recalled, were beyond anything he had ever seen. He could sense their power from across the room. Nothing could stand against them. So how was he alive? How was he free from the torment of an endless death? His memory was slowly returning—he remembered the thieves at the Forge of the Heartflame. The duel with the Toa of Water. The journey through time itself, and the ensuing battle on the shores of this silver lake. He remembered plunging beneath the waves, and the torture of the ensuing transformation. His body changed, piston and flesh warping into something alien. He had emerged changed, yet the same. Still Axxon, yet something more. And then the Disks... He retched, but there was nothing in his stomach. Even the memory was nauseating. It had felt like he was dying a thousand deaths at once. He had felt the pain of a blade in his stomach; of being consumed by fire; of drowning in saltwater; of being cut in two; of acid eating at his flesh; of insects burrowing under his skin; of a thirst that could not be satisfied; of desperate suffocation; of the frigid vacuum of space; of succumbing to a burning poison in his veins, and a hundred hundred other deaths. One would think the sheer immensity of pain would quickly overwhelm him and send his body into shock, but it was not so. The curse of the Great Disks could not be escaped so easily. Each new death brought with it a new capacity for the perception of pain. There was no cessation, no moment to catch his breath: the agonies overlapped each other with cruel precision. Burning into breaking into bleeding. An infinity of pain that would never cease. He pulled himself from the horrific memory. Strength was quickly returning to his body, and he managed to stagger to his feet. His axe lay on the ground, different than he remembered. As he reached for it, he caught sight of his own hand and realized it was different too. His whole body felt different after his swim in the silver lake. Some foul perversion of protodermis had done this. But, absent the pain, he felt stronger than ever. And that begged the question once more: how? He hefted his axe and turned around, then jumped back in surprise, almost falling back to the ground. A statue stood before him, carved in a curious stance. One hand was raised to the sky, its jagged fingers clawing for something far out of reach. The other reached towards the place he had lain only moments ago, as if imparting a blessing. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was no statue: it was armour. A suit of black armour, so dark that it seemed to absorb the light that fell upon it, making its exact shape difficult to discern. Its cracks and grooves were threaded with mosses and lichens. A glance through the open face of the helmet revealed that the armour was indeed empty. It had not been worn by a being of flesh and blood in some time. In fact, he was surprised it still held together. The closer he looked, the more cracks he saw. It seemed held together by sheer force of will, like even a breath of wind would blow it away. As if on cue, bits of the metal began to flake off and blow away. Little clouds of dust drifted down from its surface. The armour creaked, then suddenly toppled to the ground as its joints gave way. The impact was too much for the ancient metal. It dissolved, the metal mixing with the black sand. In a moment, the old suit of armour was little more than a heap of dust. Axxon blinked in confusion, and then the final memory came rushing back like a bucketful of icy water poured over his head. The Aspect. The promise. The reaching hand. The odd, choking, strangely familiar voice. And the name... Tuakana. At the sound of their name, a presence manifested in the back of his mind. Like a dark storm cloud twisting in an unseen wind. He saw, or thought he saw, a face in the roiling shadows. It had neither eyes nor mouth, but it seemed to smile at him. He felt the smile more than he saw it. The darkness pressed at the back of his eyes, and he felt it slip into his own skin like it was putting on a jacket. He felt himself drifting back into his own brain as the darkness assumed control. It wrapped itself around his bones, and he felt his own lips open without his permission, and his voice spoke but he did not recognize the words. "I am here," his mouth said. Then it grinned, and he felt the cool wind on his teeth. "I am here."

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Any other being might be surprised by their boss asking if they had a spare brain of their species lying around. "Bring me a spare Matoran skull" has a rather macabre ring to it. But the Vahki showed neither surprise nor offense. It just bowed its head slightly in acknowledgment, gears whirring. "As you wish, Barraki Aurax." With that, it left the room. The doors slid silently shut, leaving Aurax and Saybo to their machinations. OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Outskirts "I see," the Toa replied. She wondered what the Aspect would find. The secret they had uncovered in the ruined jungle temple was a dark and unsettling knowledge, something she never could have predicted they would discover. What other arcane mysteries were hidden across the island? Taja found herself half-wishing to stay by Whisper's side. She knew her duty was to her people, but the call of adventure was tugging at her like it never had before. "The Islets," she said. "How long has it since you've been there? Been... home?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Taja considered Whisper's reply for awhile. The idea of having someone else living inside your body—moving your hands and feet, blinking with your eyes, speaking with your mouth... the thought was truly horrifying. She couldn't imagine ever letting anyone do that to her, and she couldn't see anyone else consenting either. It seemed Whisper's only viable goal was to find a way to make her current body live. To change her very being from antidermis into flesh and blood. That was impossible, according to the Aspect, but who knew? There were other temples and ruins, apparently. Other secrets still waiting in the corners of the island. Perhaps one would help the aspect on her journey towards life. The texture of the swamp slowly changed as they walked. The ground grew drier underfoot. The whirring of insects and the shrieking of Rahi grew fainter as the two travelers moved out of the lush marsh. The trees became shorter and thinner. The plant life was smaller and hardier, growing out of soil that was becoming less dirt and more sand. The air itself was less humid, and for the first time in days, Taja could breathe deeply without tasting dirt and water on her tongue. They were close to the desert. Closer to home. "So, what's our next step, then?" she asked. "After we help fortify my village and share the power we found... where will you go?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

Topic closed due to topic revival. (just kidding)

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius bit back a retort to Ostrox's cynical quips. He didn't need to stand here and listen to this. If the others had decided to let the Leaguers go, then he would recognize their decision. And the sooner they left, the better. "Go, then," he said to Nale and Iradra. "I'll stay here and help rebuild. Good luck." He moved to exit the hospital, then looked back at Zaliyah one last time. He seemed about to say something, then shook his head. He pulled the door open, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight, and left. OOC: @everyone

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Shadow puppetry sounded creepy as all Karzahni. It was unfortunate that Taja only had Whisper's word that she wasn't going to try it, but what other choice did she have? The pair continued walking, then Taja spoke. "You said your wish is to be alive, right? So... why not just find some Rahi or something to possess through your..." she grimaced. "...shadow puppetry? Is it not the same?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Taja | Fau Swamp That was frustratingly logical. Dealing with Whisper sometimes felt like working with a Vahki. Take everything literally. Be helpful, but in the most obtuse way. "That's... fair," Taja said after a moment's thought. "But... please don't do it again. Unless absolutely necessary." She sidestepped a curtain of hanging vines. "Is there anything else you can do? Any other secrets you've been keeping?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital "If His influence affected you until only yesterday," Oreius said thoughtfully. "Then perhaps He still lives..." If the beings spoke true, then Pridak had somehow sold the sphere to Mata Nui Himself. It was a weird and blasphemous idea. Mata Nui didn't exist in any corporeal form. He was the Great Spirit, present in all things. He had no need for a body, for the universe itself was an expression of His form. it was like saying Pridak sold the Krom Sphere to the grass, the ocean, or the sky. The Toa of Fire was distracted by an odd sensation that passed briefly over his body. He felt... not stronger, strictly speaking, but tougher. It was hard to explain, and he didn't feel like explaining it anyway, so he shrugged it off and returned to the conversation. "Regardless of the truth of your story, it doesn't matter anymore. That universe is dead. If those gathered have decided to release you back to the League, then so be it." He glanced at Zaliyah. "I only ask that you do what you can to maintain this peace." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Sparticus147 @Conway @Onaku @Tarn IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Taja was quiet for some time. She was beginning to feel the strain of manipulating the darkness. Her reservoir of elemental energy was dwindling, and she supposed it would be wise to save some in case she needed it. So she allowed the shadows around her to settle back into their natural shapes. "I see," she said at last. "It's just... every time I think I can trust someone, they show me something different." She looked sidelong at the Aspect. "You couldn't have told me before? Why keep it a secret?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius raised an eyebrow and waited for Ostrox to continue.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum The Vahki beeped agreeably as it nodded in assent, then turned to lead Aurax out of the room, half-eaten croissant still in hand. If the new Barraki followed, the Vahki would lead them down the corridor to the elevator. The floors rushed by as they descended, but they stopped after only a few moments. They emerged to see a lobby staffed by another Vahki, this one blue and orange with a white Huna hanging from its neck. The two robotic beings exchanged a silent communication, then the new one turned to Aurax. "Your personal items are stored on this level, Barraki Aurax," it said mechanically, eyes unblinking. "This way, please." As they walked away from the elevator, the other Vahki took its comrade's place guarding the lobby. They turned a corner to see a large door, easily big enough for an ACR to fit through. The blue-and-orange Vahki beeped twice as it mentally communicated with the door's security system (ordinary beings would have to settle for the keypad on the side of the door), and then the door slid sideways into the wall, allowing the group to enter. Fluorescent ceiling lights snapped on as they walked into the room, illuminating a large warehouse-like space. Every surface was smooth, polished steel. Aurax's ACR stood in one corner, alongside the remains of Pridak's. The walls were hung with various weapons and pieces of armour. A long metal table divided the room, with drawers underneath it full of tools to repair equipment. There were no windows. "This was Barraki Pridak's private equipment chamber," the Vahki whirred. "It is now yours. A cargo elevator can be accessed there—" it pointed to one wall. "—and if you need anything, you can use this communication pad." It indicated a small keypad with a built-in microphone and speaker sitting on the edge of the table. "Will that be all, Barraki Aurax?" OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital the Toa of Fire looked around for affirmation or condemnation. Is this what everyone wanted? To just let the two League soldiers leave as they wished? He took a deep breath, recognizing that it wasn't his decision anymore. "If you're leaving for Metru-Nui," he said slowly, wondering if someone else would chime in. "Then we should discuss what you'll do when you get there. Will you support Aurax's new reign?" Despite their differences, there was an unspoken and unknown similarity between Oreius and Zaliyah: neither of them trusted the newly crowned king. But were either of them willing to risk this new, unstable peace he had created? OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @Tarn @Conway @Sparticus147

IC: Tuakana | Fortress Ruins They took his hand. The poor boy's hand. And for the second time that day they emptied themselves into another. They poured their spirit through their fingers. From palm to palm. Metal to metal. Empty iron to gear and sinew, piston and flesh. Axxon became aware of an encroaching darkness like a storm on the horizon. It approached, faster than wind, and swallowed him whole. Their essence sped through his veins and into his brain. Their thoughts mingled with his. Who was Axxon? Who was this titan from another time, wielder of truth and bringer of death? Who was Tuakana? Who was this being without a body, void and hunger given form and breath? He was they, and they he. Separate, yet one. His memories were theirs, and theirs his. Together, they each realized that they had once known each other. In another time, they had spoken. They were opposites. Lies and truth. Life and death. Dark and light. But just as each day turns into night and again into day, so all things spin in a cycle that brings the past and future together. Time cannot be denied. It is a wheel ever-turning upon itself, bearing the weight of the universe, and they were brought irresistibly together. It was their doom. Even the Ark could not escape the cycle, so, of course, these mere beings could not. Even their agency was planned out for them. Their free will was written on scrolls by beings beyond time. They opened his eyes and saw the blackened sand. The silver sea. They raised a vast hand and stared in wonder. They whimpered in pain. They were two, and yet they were one. And Tuakana felt his pain, and wept. The agony of a thousand deaths ran in Axxon's blood. His titanic form shook under the weight of his own destruction. The Great Disks were merciless. Even in their sparing, there was no mercy. It was better to die than to live like this. The titan had accepted the Aspect's offer because of this pain, and now the Aspect understood. Their consciousness billowed like dark clouds, and reversed course. Back into their body. Their eyeless sight again. They mourned the loss of their oneness, but they would regain it soon. Axxon wept on the ground, begging for peace or death, whichever came faster. They would grant his wish. They always kept their word. They raised a hand, long fingers outstretched. It would be swift. The tip of each black finger was stark against the sky. Long and sharp as knives. The hand fell like lightning. Axxon gurgled. It was over. They stood for a long moment on the shore of the silver sea. Then they reached into their spirit. They summoned the deep magic from the corners of their essence. The Taboo rose from somewhere out of mind. It hung in their mind's eye like a dark fruit. Theirs to pluck. Theirs to consume. The forbidden knowledge rushed through them like lightning. They placed one cold hand on Axxon's heartlight. The other reached up towards the sky. Far beyond the island, even beyond the floating corpse of a universe, an expanse of stars glittered in the black. Like fireflies on a summer's night. Like lightstones embedded in a cave wall. Like eyes glimmering in the dark. Then one of them went out.

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro The Toa of Fire opened his mouth to angrily respond when he felt something wriggle against the base of his neck. A chill went down his spine. The hospital's battle-scarred interior seemed to recede, and he was once again on that blood-stained beach underneath a cruel sky. What good had war ever done? Had it brought back even a single life? No—Metru-Nui was still littered with the bodies of men and women he had not been able to save. He had spent his strength against the League and emerged empty-handed. Pridak had spent his strength against the Matoran and emerged with even less. The sum of all their efforts was pain and loss. As much as he wished to rain vengeance down upon the usurpers and cleanse the island with righteous fire, he knew it would not change the past. His whole life had been spent on a fruitless mission to change what he had done. To atone for his weakness. But no amount of League blood would wash him clean of sin. His transgression was bolted to his bones and married to his flesh. It could not be changed. Not by Pridak's death, nor by Aurax's. And not by the death of these two League soldiers. Would it satisfy justice? Perhaps. But maybe the soldier was right, and there was no justice to be found in war. Perhaps there was no purpose or reason that further bloodshed could uncover. Maybe there had been something more for him before the end of the universe. But his god had fallen, and his purpose had been exposed as false. Now there was only the chaos of wasted life and spilled blood in his wake, and nothing to show for it. Metru Nui was lost. The universe was lost. Everything he had ever loved or fought for was lost, except for this little village and the people struggling to survive here. If he had to abandon justice to save them, then was that not a nobler sacrifice than spending their lives on his ideals? He didn't really know, and that uncertainty chilled him to his core. For the first time in a long time, he was uncertain about his place in the universe. The rock he had stood so surely upon was washing out from under his feet, exposed as sand. How could he fight for his beliefs when he wasn't entirely sure what he believed in anymore? Too many questions, and not enough answers. When he raised his head and looked Zaliyah in the eyes, she saw that the spark of anger had gone out. The Toa's ancient eyes were softer, and when he spoke, the fire had gone out of his voice. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "We both lost. We lost everything." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @Tarn @Conway @Sparticus147

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital Nale led the small group into the damaged hospital. Roughly half of the building had been blown apart during the League attack, but the remains were serviceable. The main doors opened into a lobby of sorts. It wasn't particularly large, but it was big enough for their group. Oreius looked around the beings in the room. He guessed that the two Leaguers had surrendered shortly after the attack, using their status as prisoners of war as a loophole to avoid being killed. It just went to show which side was honourable in this war. One side was willing to drop bombs on innocents, while the other was willing to spare even murderers if they surrendered. The Matoran, despite the fact that Pridak had tried to carry out a genocide of their people, were still willing to seek justice instead of revenge. That nobility gave him hope. These League soldiers didn't deserve mercy, but it had been given to them anyway. "So," he began, looking at Zaliyah and Ostrox. "We need to decide what to do with you two. You have carried out crimes against our people. That you still live is more kindness than you deserve." He looked at the others. "But I don't speak for Metru-Koro. If another mode of justice can been agreed upon, then so be it." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Tarn @Onaku @Conway @Sparticus147

IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius nodded at Nale's suggestion, and the newly arrived quartermaster didn't seem opposed. So they began to make their way to the abandoned hospital, doing their best to leave the curious crowd behind. OOC: @anyone who wants to come to the hospital and join the "peace talks."