Eyru

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui Surprised by his blow's lack of effectiveness, Axxon was completely unprepared for Exuze's swift counterattack. He took the lesterin's blow full on the chin and stumbled back, spitting out a curse as he did. The sudden movement caused a spike of pain to lance through his lower back, and he had to choke back a grunt of pain. He swung his axe back and planted the blade on the ground to steady himself, then glared at the newcomer. "You will pay for that," he hissed through gritted teeth. Swinging his axe up again, he prepared to let it fall again when suddenly— Everything stopped. OOC: @BULiK @~Xemnas~ @Smudge8 IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula "Who else lives?" Taja repeated incredulously. "Korruhn... we all thought you were dead! After the attack on Metru Koro, we moved the city to a valley in the centre of the island, and—" She stopped and shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, but we don't have time to go over everything. Listen— Whisper tells me you have a Makoki Stone. It might be our only chance at saving everyone. We need to get it back to the Kini-Nui." OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Vuata Maca Tree | Fau Swamp The tree shivered slightly, its leaves rustling all above her like an oncoming wind. Silvery light felt like misty rain. Hello, it said, though it was less speaking words than speaking pictures and feelings. Viltia understood the hello, but what the tree actually communicated was the sun peeking through clouds, a hatchling breaking out of its shell, and the shadows of kindred trees on a green sapling. OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui Exuze made his move, and Axxon responded in kind. The lesterin approached quickly, jogging up to the titan with a clarity of purpose that had been absent in the preceding minutes. Whatever he was planning, Axxon didn't plan on giving him a chance to see it through. The titan took two steps forward, his speed belying his size. He usually moved with a shuffling gait to minimize the pain, but there was no time for half-moves in battle. It was kill or be killed, and the pain must be ignored or it would become death. So he swiftly finished closing the gap that Exuze had already made smaller, and swung his axe with brutal grace into the lesterin's body. OOC: @BULiK @~Xemnas~ @Smudge8 @Vezok's Friend

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula It almost felt like disk surfing — except, instead of being whisked away in a particular direction by the force of the chute's flow, Taja felt herself being pulled inward, like the chute was flowing through her own body. She felt a brief sensation of falling. Her stomach twisted, and she opened her mouth to gasp or shout in surprise when it was over as abruptly as it had started. She stood on the same dry ground, but the mists were lighter here, and she could make out some crumbling ruins and desiccated trees not far off. Also, she was no longer alone. Had she not possessed a mental connection Whisper, Taja wouldn't have recognized her. The aspect wore a new body, and seemed to exude an aura of power that dwarfed what she had felt like before. Taja almost felt afraid for a moment, staring in the face of what an aspect could become, but she remembered that Whisper was her friend. That hadn't changed, had it? Sidra was here too, and she looked mildly surprised at Taja's sudden appearance. So did the third being, a Toa wearing a cloak with strange markings with his hood up. He was piloting an ancient-looking mech, and he carried a dead matoran in his arms. Nevertheless, she recognized him. "Korruhn? It's me. Taja." OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Crimson Jester

IC: Sheev Palpatine Taja | Kumu Peninsula Do it.

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula Big mechs? That meant Sidra or Atamai, unless someone else had unlocked NUVA while she was gone. Taja hoped it was Sidra. She didn't much care for the Dark Hunter, but at least she seemed to have emotions. The last few times she'd tried to make conversation with Atamai, he'd sounded like a machine. I'll join you," she said. If I can find you. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula Taja didn't feel much like trusting an elder aspect, let alone any aspect besides Whisper, but what choice did she have? Besides, she knew Korruhn, if only tangentially. The two had become Toa together, but the Toa of gravity had disappeared shortly after the founding of Metru-Koro. She hadn't seen him since. If he was still alive, he would make a good ally. Where is Korruhn now? she asked. And his stone? OOC: @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Dar Poroka | Flying Somewhere Over the Island (What, You Want a Specific Location? Get Lost, Punk) - by Fall Out Boy Mama always say you gotta look after yourself. "Poroka," she say all the time. "You always hurrying into trouble!" She tell Poroka slow down and smell flowers. Well, Poroka never been much for flowers. They smell nice, maybe. Unless they bad smell flowers. But only so many times Poroka can smell flowers before getting little bored. And bored Poroka kinda not happy Poroka. So... what to do now? Make happy again, that's what to do. How? Easy. Poroka like break things. So Poroka looking for break things. Found little village with nobody living. So smushed some houses. Then find some trees. Lots of trees. Poroka had fun breaking all them down. Then move on. Keep looking. Feeling itchy for some fight. Last fight pretty good time. Poroka fighting lots of robots. Only bad things is robots not got blood. So kinda not satisfy when Poroka rip off robot head and see wires only. But still pretty good time. Now Poroka fly. Got big wings for fly. Wind feel good on Poroka face. But not feel so good like fight. That real good feeling. Sometimes that feel get so good Poroka almost can follow it like flower smell... Poroka look down. Wind in face feel good, but fight gonna feel even better. Poroka can feel fight almost start somewhere down there... but where? Keep looking, Poroka! You gonna find a fight somewhere! Yeah! IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula I don't know, the toa admitted. I made it to the Kumu Peninsula. But I feel like I'm running out of time, and I don't know where to go. The island's disappearing. And I feel like if we don't do something, we're going to vanish right along with it. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula The mists were thick and uneasy. Taja left no tracks in the dry dirt, but there was nothing for her to track either. She figured she might need some help if she were going to find anything. Whisper? she said silently, reaching out with her long-disused mental connection to the aspect. Are you there? OOC: @Gecko Greavesy

IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp The tree began to buckle and swell before Viltia's eyes. As the Toa NUVA continued her task, she could sense the plant's Life growing stronger. The tree drank in the energized protodermis like it was dying of thirst. The golden liquid splashed and steamed as it fell to the ground, and Viltia felt revitalized even from the few droplets that splashed on her skin, and from the vapor that she breathed. Any scratches, bruises, and mosquito bites cleared up. Her lungs breathed deeply, full of new strength. The tree was revitalized too. Its trunk twisted slowly as it grew and changed. Its roots drank deep of the energized protodermis, and Viltia could see exactly where the liquid was currently at as it slowly ascended from roots to branches. First the roots swelled and plunged deeper into the ground, binding the tree to the earth with new vigor. They wound themselves around the roots of neighboring trees, forming a network that expanded far beyond the little clearing. These trees, too, tasted a smaller dose of the magical liquid. A taste was enough to clear out bark rot and burn away parasitic lichens and mosses from their limbs. Their bark grew smoother and firmer; their leaves grew greener and wider. The very soil they grew in was transformed: it grew richer and darker, full of nutrients and minerals. Viltia could sense new Life beneath her feet and all around as insect eggs spontaneously hatched, birthing new larvae that would gorge themselves on plants until, fat and happy, they could pupate and grow wings, the better to spread pollen and give back to the plants that had nurtured them. Any other rahi hiding in the branches or digging in the ground changed too. The treasure trove that Viltia emptied into the ground bore fruit for every nearby living thing. Their muscles grew stronger and their bones grew harder. Wounds and old injuries repaired themselves, disappearing as if they had never existed. Some rahi sprouted new limbs or extra eyes. These new appendages and organs were instantly useful; they were less mutations than sped-up evolutions. The air became full of the sounds of confused animals testing out their new bodies. The tree itself continued to grow and change. Its trunk grew wider and thicker and taller, the bark stretching (but not cracking) to accommodate the growth. Each cell of the tree was transformed, becoming stronger and healthier and more vibrant. The tree literally glowed with vitality and Life. Light seemed to leak through each deep groove in its bark. These grooves rippled like rivers as the tree grew. Its bark, should she touch it, was harder than it had been before. No longer a mere dull brown, it gleamed gently and, if closely observed, one could make out all the colors of the rainbow hidden between each shade of brown. Viltia had to crane her neck back now to continue to observe the transformation. The energized protodermis had made its way up the trunk and was now effecting change upon the branches. Each vast limb of the tree swelled and strengthened, and new branches began to sprout out from the limbs in real time. New twigs grew from these branches in turn, and buds sprouted from the twigs. None of these branches grew straight: the tree's limbs now spiraled and arced through the air, almost like tentacles or —Viltia realized this with a shock of happy surprise— like her own tendrils. The tree canopy was a mass of twisting limbs and branches, yet it never became messy or disorganized. Each branch arced gracefully like it had been sculpted into that exact shape by a master craftsman. Each branch avoided all the others. They twisted in midair to slide past one another like dancers in formation. The buds now began to open. Each tightly wound bud of green plant matter unfolded into a glorious leaf. Each leaf was a deep, rich green streaked with silver veins that sparkled in the light. The canopy grew darker as the leaves grew in number and size until the entire clearing was awash in darkness. Viltia held her breath for a moment, then let it out as a gentle, silvery light began to fall. As the leaves drank in the sunlight, the light flowed through each vein and illuminated the branches, the trunk, and even the forest floor far below. The branches were awash in silver light, and Viltia stood before a tree that now towered over both her and the rest of the forest. Its canopy spread wide over the other trees like the protective wings of a mother bird. Its roots dove deep into the ground, so deep that Viltia couldn't sense how deep they went. Its vast, twisting trunk seemed almost to dance in the soft light, and each leaf quivered in the fullness of Life, causing a vast rustling to descend upon the forest like the sound of a tremendous wave crashing to shore. To her disappointment, Viltia saw no new vuata maca crystals materialize. But she saw —or, rather, felt— something else begin to take shape. The entire tree was still vibrating with Life, but that power was beginning to condense in the heart of the tree. She could now sense a concentration of life in the tree that she had not sensed before. Unlike the other trees that surrounded it, this tree was not alive in a slow, sleepy, plant-like way. No— the energized protodermis had infused it with new energy that was now concentrated into something that seemed less kin to the other trees and more kin to the toa herself. Viltia felt something tugging at her foot. Looking down, she realized it was a tree root. The long, slim tendril wound itself gently around her ankle. There was a sudden flash of pain, and then a deep, shimmering voice expanded to fill her mind. Hello. OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui “How many have you consecrated with NUVA?” requested Axxon of the assembled group as his mask of truth glowed with power. “If we are to preserve the actions of my time, they must join me at the Forge of the Heartsflame. The rite must be performed once more.” Axxon's conversation with the potential disk-forger was rudely cut short as the Witch of Time advanced upon him. His mask told her that she would do whatever it took to return him empty-handed to the past. She was a liar and a thief, but right now there was fierce determination in her eyes, and she spoke only the truth. Her henchmen, however, looked less decisive. The titan lifted his axe in a show of force, ready to swing. "I warn you," he said, directing his words specifically to Exuze, who seemed the most averse to combat. "If you move against me, I will show no mercy." Tuyet continued her advance. All around them, the grass shivered as water began to rip free from each stalk. Plants withered and drooped as their cells lost pressure. The amalgam twisted in response, hungry to taste of death. Axxon winced, but stood firm. He would wait for the witch to make the first move. OOC: @BULiK @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ @Smudge8 @Vezok's Friend @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui "You don't believe," Axxon growled. His fist tightened around the haft of his axe until each finger's joint squeaked. He took a single lumbering step towards Atamai. "We are a long way past belief. You have committed treason against the Grand Builders, and are guilty by your own admission. The blood of your people is on your hands." "Hold up there, big guy," Tuyet began, raising both hands in a universal let's everybody cool down kind of gesture. "This island is its own problem, right? Nothing to do with you. Like, you don't even need to be here. Let me just send you back to your own time, and—" "Return empty-handed while you keep the Disks for yourself? I will not suffer the indignity. Without those disks, my time is as doomed as yours." Tuyet rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can, like, make more. Anyway, I'm done talking." She stepped forward and reached out as if to grab Axxon by the arm— "Do not touch me, witch," the titan spat, jerking his arm back. He could feel each muscle in his body quivering with rage. "Your crimes hang from your neck, plain for all to see. You eluded justice once. I will not let you do it again." OOC: pause to allow others to chime in. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui Zataka's presence at the Kini-Nui did not go unnoticed. The two Kaita ACRs nearby began to strain at their bonds like hungry dogs at the smell of food. They had been designed and built for one purpose and one purpose alone: to hunt riteborn. Now one stood at the very threshold of their birthplace, and their pilots hoped they would ignore it? The urge could be resisted for a while, but not forever. Each titanic machine groaned quietly and vented steam as it jostled against its restraints. OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian your mechs are getting restless.

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui Axxon turned baleful eyes to Atamai. The toa's form had changed, but his rode confirmed that he spoke the truth. The titan's jaw clenched as he catalogued each upgrade and saw it for what it was. The golden eyes, the added height (though still shorter than Axxon, he now stood a full head taller than any of the other toa), the silver armour— there could only be one explanation for such a transformation. "NUVA," he whispered. So this fool had doomed all of reality for the chance to grab at power. He was a thief through and through, and now he walked upon this sacred ground like he owned it. Like he was a hero. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Tell them what you are," Axxon commanded, each word ringing clear and cold. His mutated kanohi glowed slightly, cursing Atamai and Tuyet to speak only the truth. "Tell them where the Great Disks came from. Tell them why time itself unravels, and why this world is splitting at the seams."

IC: Taja | Kumu Peninsula It had been a long time coming. Navigating the Fau Swamp hadn't been easy, and Taja had been forced to push past the limits of her own powers more than once to escape mortal danger. Her shadow-sense was valuable and had helped her avoid the more obvious perils, but the swamp held hidden dangers that even her powers could barely detect. So it was with armour slightly more damaged and eyes slightly more weary that Taja finally stumbled out of the ocean. She blinked hard as her double eyelids became one. Long, fin-like protrusions on her arms and legs slid back into her armour. The webbing between her fingers melted into her palms. Her sleek, aerodynamic body shed water easily, but before she had taken a few steps she was already returning to her normal form. Her arms grew shorter, her wide feet narrowed, and her mask flexed, depressurizing with a gentle hiss as she walked onto the shores of the place she had sought: the Kumu Peninsula. What little she knew of this place had been gleaned from Whisper's stories, and although she trusted the aspect, she knew that Whisper herself had never been entirely sure of her own identity and past. How much of those stories was true? She didn't know. But as she walked into the mists of the peninsula, each step crunching on dry sand, and looked around at the skeletal trees and barren stone, she grimly decided to accept that the worst of those stories was probably true. This was a dark, unforgiving place. The birthplace of the aspects would, of course, be as lifeless and hollow as the beings who called it home. It was surely as dangerous, if not more so, than the swamps she had left behind. But an end was coming. Her southward travels had revealed vast swaths of sea where there should have been land. The island was vanishing out from under her. And more than once she had heard a distant roar echoing from the north: the unmistakable challenge of a tahtorak. Even now, perhaps, her new home was mere rubble. She pushed the thought from her mind. There was still time left. There had to be. Enough time to find more power. To get stronger. Whisper had helped her some, and she had learned secrets in the Grand Temple. But it wasn't enough. If she was going to save her people, she needed more. And this was the place to find it. Her resolve set, Taja strode deeper into the mists. IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Kini-Nui Axxon came to a stop near the temple and unslung his great axe from his shoulder. Though broad and heavy, he wielded it with ease in one giant hand. He could feel the amalgam pulsing in time with his heartbeat, aching for release. He recognized one of the beings who stood before him: it was the one he had been searching for. A mirthless smile touched his lips. Of course she was here. Destiny had made it so. He cared nothing for the others in the little group, nor for the oddly shimmery matoran who stood beyond, close to the shining portal. None of them need be harmed if they did not interfere. "You," he said. There was no doubt as to whom he was speaking. "Thief. I have come for you at last."

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Valley of the Kini-Nui He passed over the mountains like a ghost. Each tortured step up those wretched hills produced a grunt of pain, but Axxon neither slowed nor stopped. He did not even pause at the apex to appreciate the land spread out before him like a map. Instead he continued on into the valley, moving slowly down the slopes that gradually turned from brown to green. The valley lay before him, lush and full of life, including a village that he had not seen when last he had come this way. The ground grew softer underfoot, and the scraggly trees grew taller and thicker until he was striding through a forest. He left deep footprints in the dirt, and rahi scampered away as he passed between the trees. He carried his axe over one shoulder. The shimmering blade hung at his waist. Then he was out of the forest and the valley was all around him. Its green meadows were dotted with ponds and little streams—the only evidence that remained of Nektann's final rampage. He continued walking, the mud squishing around his feet with each step. The Kini-Nui stood before him like an old friend. It was still a ways off, but he knew the shapes of its pillars and the details of its carvings like he was already there. Time had worn heavy on this land, but it seemed the great temple had survived nigh-unscathed. At one end, an ugly machine he did not recognize contained a sparkling portal. Otherwise, he might have walked ten thousand years into the past. He had a strange sense that time did not matter. It was stretching and rippling like a soap bubble. Already he could hardly remember walking over the ridge the encircled the valley; it was like some supernatural author had condensed his journey into a single paragraph. He remembered much more clearly the battle on the shore, where he had been brought to his knees by a void-cursed toa. He remembered walking the halls of the sacred Forge, standing guard over the Forgemaster's work. He remembered taking the crystal sword into his hand only moments ago—or had it been days? He could not tell. All he knew was that time seemed to be racing towards a long-awaited end. Tuakana slumbered within him, and he doubted the aspect would wake before all this was over. Each step was followed by another. A breeze passed over the grass, carrying the scent of wet plants and upturned soil. The temple was ahead.

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | North of Kini-Nui He moved ever southward under a darkening sky. The sand crunched under his feet. His gait was uneven; he limped as he always did under the weight of the ever-present pain. Axxon had not known peace since his rebirth. Even when the aspect was in full control, he could feel the weight of the amalgam pulling at his flesh. He could feel his bones and tendons bending unnaturally with every movement. The impure protodermis had twisted his limbs into unnatural shapes, and his own body seemed to fight against itself with every step. He could hear his joints creaking and grinding. But it was better than the agony of infinite dying. He shuddered at the memory. Tuakana had saved him from an unspeakable torment, and in doing so had opened his eyes. Axxon had always believed in duty. But in the face of death, he had realized how purposeless it was. Everything was without meaning compared to death. The living world was a dreary reflection of the eternal, terrifying truth of the grave. Life itself was only worth anything as long as it could be perpetuated. What use was dying with honour or glory? Ten thousand years ago, he would have boasted of his willingness to die for what he believed in. He would have sacrificed his life for the matoran. For Dume. For a chance at saving their entire civilization from the brink of extinction. Guardian of the Forge of the Heartsflame was no trivial title. He had truly been ready to throw his body to the flames and die a hero's death. But no longer. He knew now the futility of life. Each breath was a victory and each heartbeat was a triumph, and nothing else mattered. What good was saving another's life if you gave up your own? Death soured the taste of any success, no matter how sweet, and turned it to ashes in the mouth. Once, he had admired the toa for their sacrifice. They had been willing to give up their very bodies and souls for the sake of their people. Six stars torn. He had loved them. But now he pitied them. They were fools, each one of them, to give up the only thing that truly mattered. Power is fleeting and gold crumbles and everything is meaningless. Only life is worth anything at all. Tuakana understood this— well, perhaps understand was too strong a word. The aspect knew it without knowing it: the terror of death was at its very heart. It was an aspect of grief, of loss, of fear at the thought of being unmade. The horror of losing everything drove it to seek an answer to the question of time. But it was too weak. It could not accomplish what must be done. It wandered in circles, mimicking the cycles and the seasons, ever thirsty but never drinking. Axxon would not make that mistake. He saw clearly now that time was the enemy, for its ceaseless march brought everything to the grave. This land was doomed, but it would yet be saved if only time could be brought to heel. He saw the toa in his mind's eye. She was fierce. She was a warrior. She was the answer. She had pulled him across ten thousand years in an instant, and in doing so had unwittingly revealed her power. He would take what she was unfit to use. He would save them all... if he could. At the very least, he would save himself. That was all that mattered. The mountains were before him, their snow-capped crags looming over him like white-haired giants. He was nearly there. The reckoning was at hand.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Suva of Water The suva turned easily in the water, the glowing half-hemisphere rotating to face one carving after another. Drokk was definitely on the right track, but she had a feeling she was missing something. She knew the matoran life cycle was half the key to the puzzle; perhaps the symbols on the disks were the other half. OOC: @The UltimoScorp IC: Axxon | ??? He awoke in the desert. No, awoke was not the right word. He had not slept. He had only sat for a long time, eyes unfocused and shoulders slack. Hunched over the sand. Just breathing. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt the wind brush his face. His mouth was dry. He pressed a hand to the earth, and his joints creaked as he stood clumsily to his feet. His eyes swept the unfamiliar horizon. There was water where surely a moment ago there had been sand. Waves sparkled under the sun. His body ached like it hadn't been used in some time, but he was unharmed. Each muscle and piston responded when he asked it to move. He looked around and saw the imprint of his body in the sand. On one side lay his axe. Next to it was a sword. He knew that sword. The sight of it sent a chill down the back of his neck. He reached down and picked it up, marveling at its craftsmanship. Its hilt was perfectly balanced. Its glass blade caught the light and sent it spinning out in a hundred shimmering curls that danced over the earth. It was lighter than it had any right to be, like it was forged half out of air. His body sound, he closed his eyes and turned his gaze inward, searching for any mental ailment. He found something else. A dark presence hung in the back of his mind like a fog. It swallowed the light, billowing and turning upon itself like the sea. He mentally probed the presence, but it barely responded. It wrinkled at his touch, but hardly stirred otherwise. He pressed at it again, harder this time, but he might as well have been a fly buzzing angrily around a kikanalo. The presence seemed hardly aware of him. Tuakana? The name sent a ripple through the darkness. An unseen eye seemed to open and look blearily upon him. He felt the presence reach vaguely out and try to assume control again, but its mental tendrils evaporated almost before they formed. It was not sleeping, but neither was it awake. It dozed in the back of his skull like an ash bear in winter, leaving him free to assume full control of his body once more. His mouth twisted in disgust. All those words of power and salvation, and the aspect had done nothing with his strength. He realized now that it was too old. Its mind was frail under the weight of a thousand thousand years. It had forgotten far more than it remembered, and even the things it did recall were only shapes and visions glimpsed through a glass darkly. It moved over the earth like a sleepwalker, unable to tell the difference between reality and dreams. He almost pitied it. It should have returned to the isles a long time ago, but a fear of death, no— a fear of unbecoming had kept it away. He had never set foot in those cursed temples, but a shadow of a memory flashed across his brain. He saw the Caldera, and felt for a brief moment the repulsion that had driven the eldest aspect away to wander forever over the earth. He swallowed his loathing and opened his eyes. The crystal sword was still gripped tightly in his fist. The earth was firm beneath his feet, and the sky was open overhead. He looked to the south and smiled mirthlessly. Retrieving his axe, he began to march toward the Great Temple, each step full of deadly purpose.

@EmperorWhenua Dude 1, Dude 2, and Uhuraz are approved. @Vezok's Friend Zataka, Scarrow, and Weaver are approved.

IC: Reliable Narrator | West of Kini-Nui This is the way a monster dies: gradually, then all at once. Like a pink sunset splashing across the sky, growing deeper and brighter until the horizon is awash in fire. Like the first few drops of a rainstorm that increase in number and strength until the full force of a flood is unleashed upon the earth. Like slowly drifting off to sleep. Slipping, slipping, slipping, gone. Gradually, then suddenly. Bit by bit, then all at once. So soft and quick you can't pinpoint when it stopped dying and started being dead. The gradient is so subtle that no one can tell you exactly when the color changes. Some will say Nektann died the moment the blade cut through his neck. Bound and helpless, he could only struggle and pant for breath as the weapon descended like a falling star and struck true, separating flesh from sinew and muscle from bone. The silvery blade emerged coated in a viscous blue fluid. The head, its eyes suddenly dull, flopped lifelessly to the ground. Maybe this is when Nektann died. But others will say he died the moment he burst from the volcano. A titan of rain birthed of fire and wreathed in smoke, he climbed out of Irnakk's jaws already doomed. For a tahtorak is cursed to die horrifically. None survive to old age. None live to see their children wrestle and play on the dunes of the northern wastes. They are born doomed. They are born already dead. So when the veil of gases parted and the hulking shape of the beast lunged through the smoke, his time was already up. The sands of the hourglass had already run out. He was a dead thing walking. Still others might say that Nektann died when he plunged into the belly of the Tooth. When Barius, bleeding and broken but unmistakably victorious, threw his war-chief's body down into the flames. His body an offering to the nightmare-god, his last breath an anguished plea to the dark spirit who had abandoned him, Nektann fell into witches' laughter and died a sacrifice. His flesh melted. Blood vessels boiled and burst. Muscles peeled back from bones and shriveled away into ash. Oil popped and smoked. Piston and gears blackened first, then softened and lost their shapes. His toothy smile remained longest of all, twisted into a grimace of horror and pain, before even his teeth burned away in the fires of Irnakk's hatred. So there is not one answer as to when the monster died. Kilo's deathstroke may have been the most obvious killing blow, but it was not the first. His suffering was so vast it cannot be tallied; his sorrow was so great it cannot be known. The gradient of his anguish stretched over the land like the shadow of a thunderstorm. As for me? I will tell you when Nektann died. Picture a garden. It is small and hardly worth the name. Green tendrils struggle up trellises, racing weeds that threaten to choke them back. Flowers bloom cheerlessly, their petals already half-fallen. Fruit trees hang their fruitless limbs over the dusty ground, their leaves yellow at the edges. Underneath, a young skakdi stands bewildered, an empty watering can held loosely in one hand. The other hand reaches out to a rose bush. He gently prods a drooping rose with one finger, trying to coax it to stand straight and tall. But when he takes his hand away, the flower falls back down. It hangs, half-dead, without the strength to lift its petals up toward the scorching sun. "Mom, what's wrong?" the skakdi says. He turns towards an older skakdi who stands behind him, her hands weathered and her shoulders bent under the burden of too many hard years. She looks sadly down at him and smiles, hiding her own sorrow for the sake of the child. "There's no more water," she says softly. Once, the scent of oranges filled this garden. Once, the vibrant reds and yellows of a myriad of flowers were all the eye could see. But now there's only death and decay. A land that cannot bear life any longer. "It's okay," she says, beckoning the young one to her side. "We'll get more soon. It's just a dry season. They come and go. You'll see." She's lying, though she doesn't know just how big a lie it is. The water is gone. The land will never be what it was. Its cursed earth will never again bear fruit. The young skakdi looks back over the garden as he takes his mother's hand. Everything is listless and yellow. Some plants are already brown. His heart aches, though he doesn't know why. He misses the smell of the fruits. He misses the humming of insects and the vibrant hues of the flowers. But, most of all, he misses the green. Where did the green go? And... why? They walk away, leaving the question unanswered. He will never know why. All he will know is a pain in his chest, an emptiness that he will carry with him for the rest of his life. A longing for something gone, something precious that can never be recovered. A question with no answer. This is the day Nektann died. The day he looked for something he loved and came up empty-handed. The day his hope turned to dust in his mouth. So when Kilo's blade fell, it was not the first deathstroke. It only completed the work that a dying flower had begun a long time ago. The tahtorak's head fell to the ground, his tongue lolling from his mouth, his eyes going dull. His limbs went slack. His heart thumped once, twice, then was still. Blood pooled on the earth, and all around, the rains began to cease. IC: Reliable Narrator | Suva of Water Drokk plunged beneath the water, holding a fistful of glowing algae before her in an attempt to see if there was anything below. She saw the suva floating before her, perfectly round. She could swim underneath it if she wanted and come out on the other side. If she did, she might see an odd symbol carved into the suva's underside, but it would mean nothing to her. The underwater floor of the grotto was rocky and full of mussels and little fish that darted away at her approach. There was nothing else to see unless she wished to swim deeper, but she got the feeling that the everything she needed to solve the puzzle was above the surface. IC: Tuyet | Zakazian Skies The airship's course abruptly smoothed out as the wind and rain began to die down. Tuyet flashed her passenger a trademark grin. "There we go. That wasn't so bad, was it?" OOC: @pokemonlover360 @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Toru Nui @Tarn @The UltimoScorp @BULiK sorry if I missed anyone, still catching up

@Bioniclefan7782, please don't double post. You can quote multiple posts and reply to them all at once, or you can edit your post to add new content. Posting twice or more in a row tends to clutter up the topic.

@metru nui fan, please feel free to make a new topic in which to display your MOCs. This one is a few years old, so it should no longer be posted in. Thread closed due to topic revival.

IC: Nektann | West of Kini-Nui The tahtorak's blood pooled on the ground, mixing with the mud and slime of the rain-drenched earth. He ripped the last of the spikes from his legs, flinging more droplets of blood and bits of flesh to the wind like ghastly confetti. The compulsion to flee continued to gnaw at his mind like a hideous rodent, and he was struggling to his feet to obey when thick metal cables sprouted from the ground at Atamai's command. Snakes of iron, they coiled around Nektann's limbs and began to squeeze. He bellowed again, more weakly this time, and wrenched against them with all his might. His thrashing caused eruptions of water to burst from the ground like fountains. And the rain continued to fall. Why did the rain never cease? It fell like the sky was weeping. He had looked for blood. Now he thrashed in the muck and gasped for breath. He had found the battle, or the battle had found him. It did not matter. Nothing would grow. The rains washed it all away. The seed died in the earth, drowned in the rain. He roared again and struggled against his bonds. The wind howled over the scene, shunting black clouds across the sky. The rains lashed the earth. The end was coming. OOC: @pokemonlover360 @~Xemnas~ @Snelly

Hi @Biosonic100 Please remember to check the date of the last post in a topic before you reply. The last post before yours was made in January 2020—over a year ago! This counts as topic revival. Please read the BZPower Forum Revival Reference to learn more about topic revival. If you feel there's still discussion to be had here, feel free to start a new topic. Topic closed.

Hi @Bioniclefan7782 Please remember to check the date of the last post in a topic before you reply. The last post before yours was made in March 2018—that's over three years ago! This counts as topic revival. Please read the BZPower Forum Revival Reference to learn more about topic revival. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a PM. Topic closed.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Suva of Air NEW ITEM IDENTIFIED Codex of the Forge, origin Chronicler Icarax, bearer Viltia. Nothing else happened for a moment, and Viltia began to wonder if something was wrong. Then she began to sense something happening in the suva through her mental connection. The pocket dimension was always open to her as long as she was in range. It felt like an extension of her own mind—like another room in her brain in which she could store things until she needed them. But now she could feel the walls of that mental room pulsing with energy. They were shifting and pushing back against her mind as they expanded. The shape of the suva's dimension was changing. It rippled and undulated as lines of unseen code executed functions long-disused. The room started to tremble, and she took a half-step back from the suva in the center of the room. The suva itself was vibrating, and gradually this vibration was joined by a low humming that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Bits of dirt and moss fell from the suva's surface. Anyone who examined the suva closely knew it was no mere half-sphere, but a sphere half-sunk into the floor, and could be rotated or even rolled. It began to rotate by itself now, at first slowly, and then faster. The etchings on its surface blurred into one as its speed increased. The humming grew in pitch, and then the suva began to ascend. It rose slowly, almost imperceptibly into the air. The tree that grew on top creaked quietly as its roots stretched and snapped one by one, and then it fell unceremoniously to the ground. As the suva continued to rise, so did the pitch and volume of the humming. The spherical suva was now spinning at a fantastic speed, and all details on its surface were absolutely indistinguishable: it appeared now to be a perfectly featureless orb of shining silver hovering in midair. The humming shook the walls; Viltia could feel her teeth rattling in her skull even as her brain recoiled from the pressure of the expanding suva dimension. The whole world seemed to be coming apart at the seams. She could see through the suva into the wires and transistors beneath its surface. She could see worm-like rahi wriggling through the soil far beneath her feet; she could look through the shrine's ceiling and perceive the stars. The suva's dimension and the physical world were becoming indecipherable. Everything seemed to be blurring together like the carvings on the suva's surface; the universe was unfolding before her like a flower. Then, anticlimactically, everything stopped. Coming after the noise of the transformation, the silence felt like an oppressive weight on her ears. She felt slightly dizzy. The walls were solid stone again, and the floor was solid earth. The suva hovered before her at about eye level, motionless save for a gentle rotation that, if she timed it, would complete once every six minutes. Then she sensed the suva speaking to her. Well, not speaking. It spoke the way it always did, which was more like typing words directly into her brain: NEW USER REGISTERED Forgemaster Viltia She felt the suva open to her will, revealing functions and abilities long kept secret behind ancient passwords and firewalls. It was no longer a mere receptacle for items: it was now a forge. Viltia knew instantly that this was what she had been searching for. The forge could be used to to craft artifacts of power, including the silver and golden kanohi she had long been striving after. She also knew that this power was not available to just anyone: although the suva was unlocked, it would only respond to the careful hand of a forgemaster—just like anyone can light the fire in a furnace, but it takes the arm of a smith to bring shapes out of the steel. OOC: @Kal the Guardian Congratulations! The air suva has been activated, and Viltia has been granted the status of Forgemaster. The air suva has been registered as her forge, and she may now use this suva to craft artifacts of power such as silver and golden masks. The previous function of the suva as a keeping place remains intact, and this function may still be used by anyone. However, any new functions are available only to a Forgemaster.

IC: Administrator | Suva of Air "No," the Administrator said regretfully. "Though I guard their sacred halls, I am not worthy to bear the titles of the Builders. The codex will do nothing for me. It is yours, and yours alone." The disembodied voice was silent for a moment. When it spoke again, it seemed more chipper, like it had stowed away its disappointment for the time being. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Place the codex within the suva! Let us witness the first naming day this island has seen in a thousand years." OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Kas | Aqua Sphere "Good call," Kas said with a nod. "I don't know who's behind them, but the fewer people know we're here, the better." He looked back out the window, then gestured to the other beings as he started walking back over to the door. "We should split up to cover more ground. You two—" he indicated Mahrika and Sorilax. "—can head east from here, and we'll go west. Follow the cables until you find something. Sound good?" OOC: @Harvali @Kal the Guardian

IC: Administrator | Suva of Air "I am the guardian of the all the Builders made," the disembodied voice replied, its robotic words tinged with pride. "Wherever they laid stone, there I am." The key gleamed in Viltia's hands. The Administrator had no eyes, but it seemed to understand anyway what it was she held aloft. It sputtered mechanically for a moment as the toa continued her careful investigation of the walls. "Is- is that a codex? I thought there were none left who could grant one." The Administrator sounded almost wistful for a moment. "Then... did you find anything to aid me, like I asked?" OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Tuyet | Zakazian Airspace, West of Kini-Nui Tuyet snatched up the radio handset and pressed a button. "Copy that, Taku. Appreciate the heads-up. We're gonna maintain course." She placed the handset back on the dash and glanced over at Exuze with a wry grin. "Going around'll take, like, way too long, and I've got places to be. Don't worry. We'll be fine." A gust of wind jostled the airship, as if to immediately provide a counterpoint. OOC: @BULiK IC: Kas | Aqua Sphere Kas hoisted the gun over his shoulder. "We've gotta find where the Admin's holed up. It pretends to be omniscient, but every program runs its code from somewhere. You know what they say—the "cloud" is really just somebody's else's computer." He looked at the other three beings, and quickly realized they didn't know this particular saying. He opened his mouth to explain, then waved a hand as if to erase what he'd just said. "...uh, never mind. Basically, there's a computer somewhere in this city that we need to blue-screen. And I think those cables have something to do with it." He pointed out the window. If the others approached and looked out, they would see nothing at first. Just the ruined city, overgrown with plant life and slowly crumbling into forgotten history. But if they looked closely, they could see thick black cables winding their way here and there through the puddles and wreckage. They looked newer than their surroundings, like they had been laid anywhere from a few days to a few weeks ago. "Those weren't around last time I was up here," Kas explained. "They were put down pretty recently. If we follow them, they might lead us to some answers." OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Harvali