Eyru

IC: Dar Poroka | Coliseum Poroka kinda confused. Just get here, and already time to go? Not even get to fighting! But people looking tired. And hurting too. So Poroka guess it that time. "Okay," Poroka say. Little grumpy cause no fighting. But grab people with three squiggly arms. Wrap tight so they don't fall out. Vahki start shooting, so no time think, just jump— Poroka leap into air, disks whizzing by! New people kinda heavy, so wings gotta flapping more harder. Not fly as much as fall with style. Not gonna fly out with so many heavy. You can do it, Poroka! Go, go go... Think people notice flying not go so good. Hear Zaliyah yell over wind noise: "There! Aim for that airship!" Poroka look down. See pretty black ship on ground. Pretty far, but make it there gonna be no problem. Poroka tilt wings, start glide more. Down, down, slow, easy... *** Behind Poroka, the vahki fire at will from the shattered window. Some are already starting to climb down in pursuit. One vahki takes careful aim, its disk of weakening ready to loose. Its clockwork brain calculates angles and trajectories at speeds biomechanical brains cannot hope to match. Tapping into the hivemind, it accesses wind direction and speed, and the humidity of the air. The rate of the target's fall. Far below the Coliseum, the multitudes of vahki plugged into the hive add their RAM to the calculations. It fires. *** Something hit Poroka wing! Not hurt too bad, but wing not flap so great suddenly. Feels like not strong. Flying turn into gliding turn into kinda falling! Poroka try really hard hold wings open. But even get angry not help so much. Wing really not strong right now. Still... maybe we gonna make it? Ground come fast, but not too fast. Still falling at airship. Gonna crash nearby and hope for good... *** The vahki continue their barrage. Their target is now less than one hundred feet from the ground, and dropping. Seventy feet. Fifty. *** Hit one more time! Ow! Poroka yell cause this one hurt more. One arm feel really, really, really heavy. Can't hold it. Arm just fall loose and pull down at ground. Uh-oh. Poroka think that Zaliyah arm. Hard to tell cause so many arms now. But when Poroka look down, feel really bad, cause Zaliyah not there. *** The disk of increase weight strikes the tentacle wrapped around Zaliyah's waist. It immediately unfurls, hanging straight to the ground. There's nothing she can do. She scrabbles in vain for something to hold on to, but Poroka's slippery skin provides nothing to grip. She falls. *** "We gonna crash!" Poroka yell. Try hold up people with arms so they don't hitting ground too hard. "Look out, people!" Boom! *** The titan, his own wing desperately trying to do the job of two, strikes the ground like a meteor, sending up a spray of rocks and dirt. But his aim was true: the airship sits nearby, gleaming in the dying light. Their escape is at hand. But the Coliseum doors are already opening, and vahki are spilling out. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @~Xemnas~

IC: Taja | Metru-Koro Taja walked through the village toward the Western Garrison. She passed some people still working; others, like her, had decided to put down their labours for the day. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the cool of the falling evening. She could sense the shadows gathering in the nooks and corners around her. They were beginning to grow as the sun descended, venturing farther and farther as it approached the vast metal skull that dominated the horizon. The sky, streaked with clouds, was still a bright blue in the west, but was ripening to a darker indigo in the east. As the light decreased in intensity and volume, Taja felt more and more comfortable. The fading daylight soothed her eyes, and her vision felt sharper with every passing minute. She could make out details she hadn't noticed before: she saw cracks in rocks that had seemed smooth, and beige plants growing where before she had seen only sand. She was stronger in the twilight; even walking felt easier now, in the cool of the day. Approaching the garrison, the Toa kept her eyes open for Whisper, but she didn't see her anywhere. It wasn't like she was easy to miss—her multitude of eyes and tentacles usually made her stick out in a crowd. And if she wasn't immediately visible, Taja had figured she could just follow the curious whispers that surely followed wherever the Aspect went. But it was not so. She saw a small crowd gathering—probably to talk to Vulimai, whom Whisper had said she was with. Perhaps she had wandered off again? She started to reach out to Whisper with her mind again, then decided not to. There was time to spare. The kraata could wait for a few minutes at least, and this was the first time in days she had found any time to relax. So instead of approaching Vulimai, Taja turned to the side and walked out of the village. She passed by sections of broken wall and blast holes in the earth. She stepped carefully over scrubby plants and patches of desert grass. She walked over tunnels burrowed out by small Rahi; their entrances were invisible, but she could sense the shape of the dark tunnels winding beneath the earth. Then, once she had walked a few minutes outside the village, she found a place to sit down, and did so. Crossing her legs, Taja watched the sun set and felt her power grow. The future was still uncertain, and their survival was far from assured. But she was stronger now, and she had found allies she could count on. She remembered the knowledge she had found in the Grand Temple. The days of uncertain elemental practice that turned into confidence. She recalled meeting Morangad and Apex. And... Whisper. Almost against her will, the Toa had found herself enjoying the Aspect's company. When Whisper had first desecrated her with her own heartlight, she had wished she was dead. She never wanted to see the Aspect again. But the following days had proven Whisper to be a more complex and interesting creature than she had first thought. She wasn't good in the Matoran sense of the word, not by a long shot. But when compared to the rest of Zakaz... maybe she was some kind of good after all. And on this island, where everything was trying to kill you or eat you, Taja would take any kind of good she could get. Sensing something different behind her, Taja looked over her shoulder. A single star had appeared in the east. She didn't know its name. She didn't know what constellations it formed, and she had no idea what it meant. She had always found the stars beautiful, but a utilitarian way. She loved watching them twinkle and move through the heavens, approaching and retreating from each other like partners in a vast celestial dance. Even after years of study, she had still felt a thrill of wonder when she deciphered a new prophecy, or uncovered new meanings in one that was centuries old. But now the stars were different, and she could watch them with no meaning attached. It felt different. Like she'd lost something. But... also like she'd gained something, too. She didn't know the names of these stars. She didn't understand their movements, and couldn't tease meaning from their constellations like she once had. But in the absence of a cosmic sense of purpose and design, she was free to find goodness and beauty wherever she could. In the simple pleasure of building a hut. In the good intentions of a creature of darkness. In the twinkling of a nameless star. The future was unknown, and her destiny was a mystery, but, for once in her life, Taja was okay with that. For now, she was content to sit and watch the darkening sky.

OOC: Mood music. IC: Dar Poroka Toden Kakoda Gan | Metru-Nui Airspace Funny thing about birds. They making flying look easy. Poroka always watch birds. Think "Birds probably having big fun up there." And now Poroka know it's true. Flying really fun time. But it also kinda hard work. First Poroka gotta lift wings. Then push down. Not sound so bad, right? But then do one hundred million more times! Really not easy. Good thing Poroka pretty strong. Poroka always been strong, even when just small squidlet. Poroka Mama put Poroka in time-out lots of times for break things. She say, "Dar Poroka, you need to learn to control your strength!" Mama right about that. She right about lots of stuff. And now Poroka really good at control strength. Except sometimes. But everybody does accidents. It's OK. Poroka close eyes. Feel wind in face. Feel good. Flying makes relaxing time. But remember, Poroka. This not relax time. It time for big fight! Poroka make big smile. OK! Ready! Turn wings one way a bit and Poroka start go down over city. Look down and see many lights. Looking pretty, but city looking little squished. That happen when big head go boom. Many things happening when big head go boom. One thing: big water come out from head. But not normal water. Spicy water! It make Poroka feel funny, all squishy and stretchy and puffy. Funny feels. And crazy story—spicy water make Poroka get all big! And more arms! And wings! Probably most crazy thing happen to Poroka since drink Ehlek special juice on accident. Ehlek really mad. That when Ehlek make Poroka go guard airships. And everybody know what happen next after that. Poroka see big tower ahead. Pridak house. And things happen on side of it. Poroka fly in little closer. See vahki blast off side! Watch vahki fall down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down... long time down. Then—splat! No more vahki. Poroka guess Zaliyah make that happen. Lights flash. Noises coming out. Poroka see more vahki crawl up building. Look into room, shoot disk, then hide. That make Poroka mad. Not fair fight, vahki. Be brave! Get in there! But vahki just hide. Poroka like vahki on the sometimes. Can be fun times. But these vahki look like no fun. So Poroka gonna bring the fun to them. Poroka dive down faster. Going to open window. See vahki gonna look inside again. Poroka open claws and count down to impact. "Three. Four. One—" Poroka fly into building side! Glass shatter all around. Grab hold with two arms, then Poroka use two more arms to grabbing two vahki. Poroka gonna pull them over, but vahki weaker than Poroka remember. They heads just pop off in Poroka hands and bodies fall off Pridak's house. Oops. Poroka lean head over broken window. See two people Poroka know. One people not. Make big smile. Poroka mama always say smile best hello, and two hello better than one. "Hello!" OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @~Xemnas~

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Zaliyah fought wildly, like a cornered animal, and the vahki fell beneath her claws, but not before they marked her with wounds of her own. Iradra, despite her inexperience as a Toa, fought bravely as well, wielding her hardlight constructions like they were extensions of her own body; but she missed a stray disk of weakening, which shattered her mask and knocked her to the ground. Ostrox wielded his rhotuka with brutal efficiency, striking down vahki after vahki as they poured through the door, but he couldn't dodge every shot they returned. The office was littered with remains of chairs and desks used as makeshift shields against the mechnical onslaught. The walls were covered with burns and blast marks from stray disks, rhotuka, and energy blasts. Abandoning the doors, some vahki had started blasting through the drywall, creating more entrances into the room. Several shattered fluorescent lights showered the ground with broken glass. The alarm pealed over everything like a battle song. One by one, the three fighters slowly retreated toward the window, bruised, bleeding, and growing more exhausted with every passing second. They fought with everything they had, but it wasn't enough. The mechanical soldiers kept coming, masks swinging from chains around their necks, their eyes devoid of mercy. Outside, the city's eternal twilight was beginning to deepen into evening. A patch of of indigo sky could be seen through the one of the eyeholes in the skull. If they looked closely, the little black silhouettes of birds could be seen as they flew home to their roosts. "Getting scared, Zaliyah?" Aurax's taunting voice came on over the intercom. "If you surrender now, then maybe I'll consider throwing you all in prison instead of executing you." Four more vahki ascended the stairs, meeting three descending. These seven vahki marched into the room, stepping over their fallen comrades and standing ready to fire their disks. As they did so, the two remaining vahki outside the building looked in and prepared to fire at the three renegades as they backed up to the window. All nine vahki waited for Zaliyah's response. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Nightmare Pits The titan looked curiously at Aspect. The specifics of the rites had been unknown to all but a few, but surely others knew what name they called upon? It was no secret. They had built their lives around their salvation, acquiescing to its every demand. They had built monuments to its power, and vast instruments to play the songs of its praise. Of all the island's denizens, he had thought that surely Aspects would know of whom he spoke. But his mask showed him that Whira did not lie. And a brief examination of Tuakana's memories—crippled and malformed though they were by the weight of untold years—confirmed the truth: they did not know, or they had forgotten. "Strange," Axxon said quietly. "You really don't know?" His mouth twisted in pain, echoing the twisting of the amalgam in his side. He felt the weight of the darkness settling upon them like low-hanging clouds, ready to unleash a storm. Smoke and gas drifted from the pit, carrying flecks of ash. The carvings on the walls were barely visible in the dim light. "It was Mata Nui." OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Nightmare Pits "You speak rightly, Aspect," Axxon said. "For the sake of our people, the Forgemaster dared to blaspheme this sacred hall with Taboo Rites." He looked, taking in the sight of the cavern. It was barely lit by a dim red light. The ground ended nearby in a cliff whose bottom could not be seen. The gorge was full of mists and toxic fumes, and shadows danced through them. The rattling of bones like the breathing of diseased lungs sounded from somewhere unseen. The darkness hung heavy with the presence of the demon they had sought to escape. The old one, the dreamer of horrors, the fear-eater. The rocks underfoot were soiled by centuries of spilt blood. it was a cursed place. But it had not always been so. "You stand in the Forge of the Heartsflame," he said, as if answering Cravious's unspoken question. "Or what remains of it. It was here the Builders forged their greatest works. The ships of the Dune Sea. The crystal blades of the Archipelago. The seven masks of the Sentinels. But it was not enough. None of it was enough..." The titan's eyes half-closed as he remembered. He recalled how this place had looked ten thousand years ago. The ground was smooth and unblemished by foul skakdi rituals. Tubes of molten protodermis wound themselves around the room. Lava and molten rock poured endlessly from one wall, filling the space with the sound of crushing, sliding, and burning. The air constantly moved with the whooshing of unseen bellows. He remembered the anvil upon the altar, where Creation itself took place. It was a temple of suffocating heat and blazing light. Now it was a tomb, haunted by horrors and phantoms and rotting things. "Only blood is strong enough to save us," Axxon continued in a low voice. "Blood given willingly. We cast away the old rites out of fear. But fear has its place. It drives us to do what must be done. And so, when we had nothing left to lose, we dared to call upon the deep magic..." A foul wind came out of the pit, carrying the stench of death and the sound of distant, cackling laughter. "...and it answered." OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Zaliyah's beam struck the first vahki directly in the face, turning its head full of delicate circuitry and clockwork mechanisms into a skull full of shattered electronics. The robot collapsed, although it had at least managed to clip the hordika with its kanoka before it was put out of commission. The second vahki advanced on the retreating Zaliyah, charging up another disk in its jaws, when Iradra stepped out and beheaded it in one graceful strike. The decapitated robot collapsed only a few feet beyond its colleague. At the window, the vahki watched its disk sail straight through Iradra's projections. It realized that they were illusions, just like the two Ostroxes they had run into one floor down. It wirelessly communicated this information to the rest of its squad—no one else would fall for the illusions by the window. It began to pull itself up into the room again when a rhotuka came flying out from behind a wall, blasting the robot clean off the side of the Coliseum. It flailed in the air as it fell to the ground far below. The other Vahki took note and decided to be more careful. Two more scuttled up to take the fallen vahki's place, but instead of trying to enter the room, they each summoned a disk, peeked, and fired before pulling their heads back to charge more disks. They didn't wait to see if their projectiles hit their marks—they were choosing quantity over accuracy. At the door, Iradra's hardlight barriers started to shudder as four new vahki arrived in the stairwell and began throwing themselves against it. The toa of light grimaced at the effort of keeping the constructs up, but although they cracked and warped with each blow, her barriers held firm. The vahki seemed to realize the futility of destroying their bodies just to get in the door, so they stopped trying. There was a moment of silence on the other side of the barriers, and then they were destroyed by the simultaneous impacts of a disk of shrinking and a disk of weakening. Four vahki filed into the room, their staffs raised and ready to fight. Two of them had yet to summon new disks, so they chose to run straight at their targets with weapons swinging. The other two fired their disks at the first targets they saw. OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler @Onaku

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Nightmare Pits Axxon ignored Cravious. It was obvious that he had not learned the rites that even now had faded from the wall. He was a servant of this Aspect, nothing more, and Axxon knew Aspects. They used their servants like pawns, moving them square by square until they could trade them in for a more valuable piece. it was one reason they could not be trusted, among a multitude of other reasons. If the skakdi didn't realize it now, he would eventually, and Axxon pitied him for it. The amalgam twisted in his side, and Axxon winced. He saw blood on the stones, and heard a skakdi cry out as his heartlight was ripped from his chest. The past revealed itself to him in shades and illusions, and the voices of the dead echoed out of the void so he alone could hear. "Irnakk! Witness this rite. I offer a beating heartlight." "You know the truth," he repeated, looking directly at Whira. "You know what we did. What we had to do." “How dare you...” "Now, tell him," he said, lifting a hand to point at Cravious. "Speak the rites you have learned, so he can hear." “Barius!" The Aspect remained silent. Axxon grunted in pain, his fingers clenching into fists. The phantoms of the past spoke to him. He ignored their cries. “I’ll kill you all, starting with you first!” "I am Axxon," he said. "Guardian of the Forge of the Heartsflame, and servant of Forgemaster Dume." “So that’s how long, huh...” "I am the owner of truth," he continued. "I have passed through time, and I bear witness to the dead. And, by the power of my mask, I bid you..." ... "...speak the truth now, before gods and men." OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian

IC: Reliable Narrator | Metru-Nui "Here you go," the barkeep said, setting the drink down on the counter. Creamy foam frothed over the lip of the mug and ran down the side. The liquid within was translucent and golden brown. Dag lifted the mug to his lips and took a long, cold drink. Everything tasted better after a day of hard work—even this oily swill. It was no bula berry cordial, that was for sure, but he'd drunk worse. Setting the empty glass back down on the counter, the burly skakdi nodded to the barkeep and looked around while he waited for a refill. The bar was busy. League soldiers sat around tables on mismatched chairs, telling stories and playing dice. Incandescent bulbs hung from the ceiling on long copper cables, casting a warm golden light over everything. The leather booths were worn, and the tables were scratched and scuffed, but the drinks were cheap and the entertainment was free. Give a soldier enough drink, and he'd either start telling stories, or start getting into fights to tell stories about later. Personally, Dag had had enough of fights. The war to take Metru Nui had been long and bloody, and when they finally got their hands on the karz'd thing, the whole universe had come to an earthshattering end. Forget the rest of the world—the League had sacrificed everything to gain only Metru Nui. That was fine and dandy for Pridak, but Dag didn't care about the city. He'd joined up to put an end to centuries of matoran supremacy. Dume's empire had strangled the growth of every other culture, especially Zakaz. The matoran feared skakdi, so they had blockaded trade routes and imposed tariffs on goods moving on and off the island. Consequently, the skakdi had always had to fight each other over scraps just to survive. The matoran pointed and laughed at the savages, conveniently forgetting that they were the ones responsible for centuries of skakdi civil war. Who knew what Zakaz might've been if they hadn't had Dume's boot on their neck? The barkeep held a hose over Dag's glass. With a gurgle, it expelled a flood of amber liquid into the mug, filling it up until it overflowed again. The skakdi nodded his thanks and took another drink, wincing as the icy liquid hit the back of his throat. Thinking about the matoran always made him get a little hot under the collar. All he had wanted to do was topple that smug turaga from his throne and get back to his island. To build a home. Meet a girl. Raise a family. Finally live in a society that was allowed to prosper and thrive. Once Zakaz was allowed to trade and communicate with the outside world, the civil war would surely have come to an end. The battlefields would be replaced by fields of crops. The swords replaced by hoes and shovels. Sure, skakdi loved to fight. Dag didn't deny that, and he knew that life wouldn't be all sunshine and roses after the war. There would still be trouble. But skakdi weren't monsters. They were a proud, honorable people. Dag was proud to be a skakdi, and he was proud to fight for the League. He knew their cause was just. But now, Zakaz was just a memory. It was floating in space somewhere, and he was stuck in Metru Nui. Crash-landed on a planet that the scouts said was inhospitable at best. Spending each day rebuilding a city he didn't have a stake in. He hadn't signed up for construction work; he'd signed up to liberate a world from tyranny, and then sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labor. He didn't give a brakas's behind about the city of legend, and he didn't really care who sat on the throne, as long as it wasn't a matoran. But none of that mattered. Here he was, stuck in a city he hated, doing menial work, serving under a Barraki who had won the war and now didn't seem to care about the troops that had helped him win it. It was enough to drive a man to drink. Setting down his glass, Dag's thoughts were interrupted by a voice on the radio. The noise in the bar died down as everyone else listened too. The voice, although crackly and enveloped in static, was one he recognized. “Hear me and listen, my friends!” the voice said. “I am Lieutenant Zaliyah, of the League of Six Kingdoms. Many of you know me. We’ve served side-by-side through countless battles, endured through defeats and victories. So believe me when I tell you that today we stood at the verge of our final victory, only to have it snatched away from us!” The bar remained silent as the voice went on to describe an attack on the refugee camp, but the explanation of Pridak's betrayal and assassination was met by a chorus of muttered curses and exclamations of disbelief. Soldiers looked at each other with wide eyes. How could Pridak be dead? He was a legend. He was the only man whose escapades no one embellished, because his deeds were already unbelievable. He fought with the ferocity of a cornered muaka. He led with the boldness of a kikanalo. He was everything the League stood for and more... and he'd been stabbed in the back by a toa? Dag realized he was gripping his mug so tightly his knuckles were white. He was surprised the glass didn't shatter. He had fought alongside Zaliyah in several battles, and he knew she was the real deal. She may have been a toa once, but she knew how it felt to be rejected by the matoran. She was honest, brave, and she believed in equality. If there was one lousy member of the matoran species that he trusted, it would be her. And if he believed her, then it naturally followed that he needed to get off his rear and help her. She was right: they had fought too hard and sacrificed too much to lose the throne to yet another karzing matoran! The radio crackled to life again, this time with a different voice. “Citizens of the Kingdom… as you have heard, a traitor named Zaliyah has raised allegations against me, and wants to usurp me. But I tell you this. Pridak's dying words to me... His dying words to me… you want to know what they were? Take care of our people.' He charged me with protecting you..." He guessed this was Aurax. Dag ground his teeth in annoyance as the voice went on. He wasn't going to believe a word that came out of this filthy toa's mouth. He looked around, hoping to see that others were on his side. What he saw instead sent a chill down his spine. As Aurax offered riches and spoils for anyone who brought him Zaliyah's head, Dag saw several soldiers snicker and begin checking their weapons. Others looked uncertain or confused. Some just shrugged and went back to their drinks and their games. They had already fought one war and didn't feel like fighting another. Who cared who was on the throne? Would it change anything? Not for the rank and file. No one seemed as resolute as he felt. If he stood up and declared his support for Zaliyah, he might do it alone. He'd be gunned down by his former comrades, and they'd take his head in to be rewarded. A flicker of movement at the window caught his eye. Outside, he could see the lifeless eyes of a Vahki peering through. Looking for troublemakers. Dag swallowed, suddenly uncertain. He wanted to stand up for what he believed in. He wanted to stand strong for the League's ideals. But he had already given so much... was it really worth giving his life too? Didn't it make more sense to just hunker down and wait for these would-be kings to fight it out among themselves? It didn't really matter who was on the throne, right? Not anymore. None of them could bring his home back. As long as they were League, he supposed that was the best he could ask for. With a sigh, Dag looked down at the half-full mug in front of him, the creamy foam floating gently atop the oily brew. "To Pridak," he said softly, then drained the rest of his drink. He shook the empty glass at the barkeep, then placed it on the counter and folded his arms. He didn't move for a long time.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Zaliyah cut the cables to the elevator. It fell for a long time. When it finally crashed to the bottom of the shaft, the noise echoed all the way back up. The elevator was utterly destroyed, along with the three Vahki it had been carrying inside. Ostrox pulled the fire alarm down. Instantly, an alarm began to peal throughout the Coliseum, rising and falling like the cry of a vast bird. Under Dume, any Vahki in the building would have abandoned their tasks and begun escorting Matoran out or searching for the source of the alarm. But under the leadership of the Barraki, the mechanical enforcers were programmed to obey their leader's commands above all else. Instead of activating subroutines to prevent the loss of property or life, the Vahki collectively isolated the source of the emergency signal and began moving towards it. The elevators were no longer operating (a safety mechanism designed to prevent loss of life during emergencies), so they had to use the stairs. Pistons firing and gears whirring, they leapt up the stairs two at a time, never tiring or growing short of breath. Emergency pull station #354 in room 3512 activated, the hive mind determined. The 35th floor is abandoned. Likely cause: the renegades. The Vahki crawling up the outside of the building confirmed it. The six Vahki had exited the waiting room through the broken window and begun carefully ascending the side of the Coliseum. By now, they had observed that a window above them was broken, and were making their way towards it. The first Vahki hooked its staves over the edge of the window and pulled itself up into the room. As it did so, it realized its three targets were standing by the window. It abruptly stopped its entry, and instead fired a disk at Zaliyah, not realizing it was another illusion. The seventh Vahki in the room below had chosen not to ascend the outside of the building. Instead, it used the stairs. It was joined by another Vahki descending from the floor above. With a kick, the Vahki smashed the stairwell door open and stepped into the room where the three renegades were hiding, ready to fire at the first target they saw. OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler @Onaku Whew, that was a lot! Here's what's happening: By pulling the fire alarm, the Vahki have traced you to the 35th floor. Three Vahki were destroyed when Zaliyah cut the elevator cables. The other two elevators are out of commission, so the Vahki must use the stairs. They are ascending and descending from throughout the Coliseum, so they will arrive in staggered waves. In this post, you are being assaulted by Vahki coming from floors 34 and 36. In my next post, you will be assaulted by Vahki from floors 30-33 and 37-40. The following post will bring Vahki from floors 25-29 and 41-45, and so on and so forth. The Vahki will continue to come until you escape, die, or Aurax calls them off. Six Vahki are crawling up the side of the building from the floor below you. The first has peeked its head through the broken window. Seeing the illusions created by Iradra, it has fired a disk at the illusory Zaliyah. Two Vahki are entering the room from the stairs, one from the floor below and one from the floor above. Altogether, there are three Vahki immediately attacking.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Upon closer inspection, Ostrox would notice small red circles indicating the locations of fire alarms throughout the building. If he looked to the corresponding wall of the office, he would see a cherry-red fire alarm, just begging to be pulled. One floor below, the Vahki discovered the second Ostrox to be an illusion. Chattering mechanically in annoyance, they pooled their brainpower and collectively decided that the only way the targets could have escaped was through the broken window. One after another, the six Vahki rotated into quadruped mode and began to scuttle onto the outside of the Coliseum, hooking their staffs into crevices and pulling their bodies across the vertical surface. It wouldn't be long before they discovered the broken window to the floor above them. Back in the lobby, the elevator doors closed, and the red numbers began to tick down as the elevators themselves descended. They were on their way to pick up more reinforcements. OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler @Onaku IC: Taja | Metru-Koro Dusting off her hands, Taja took a break from moving stones and sweeping up rubble. The encroaching cool of the evening was a welcome respite from the sun. She looked back over her work. All the broken huts had been torn down, their foundations reset for new buildings whose construction was already beginning here and there. The rest would start tomorrow. Some of the rubble and broken rocks could be reused for the new huts, but the rest had been carted out and dumped on the outskirts of the village. Throughout the work, Taja had grown more and more comfortable with her new powers. Her journey with Whisper had helped her gain an understanding and a familiarity with the shadows, but the repetition of manual labour provided the practice necessary to turn that understanding into muscle memory. With a flick of her wrist, she could conjure a shovel of solid shadow, or a staff to serve as a lever. With a thought, she could summon extra limbs of darkness to bolster her own strength. And when the sun had grown too hot overhead, she had learned to pull her shadow off the ground and hover above her instead, shielding her from the desert's heat. She still had a long way to go. She watched other Toa working, and she envied the ease with which they manipulated their elements. But that would surely come with time. She was nothing if not patient. Haste was not a trait typically found in astronomers, after all—it took a certain amount of forbearance to study the movements of the stars. Walking through the village, Taja kept her eyes open for Whisper. It had been a while now—had she returned yet with the kraata she had gone out to retrieve? As much as the idea of telepathic communication disconcerted her, she knew it was the most efficient way of to locate the Aspect. So she turned her gaze inward and focused. She wasn't sure if distance played a factor in this power, but surely Whisper hadn't gone too far. Whisper? Where are you? Did you find the heartlights? OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Reliable Narrator | Nightmare Pits Whira pressed her hand to the glowing symbol. The very air seemed to hum with a dark energy, and knowledge suddenly poured into her mind like a torrent of ice-cold water, flooding every particle of her antidermis. She staggered under the onslaught, retreating deep within her armor as she struggled to comprehend the vast blasphemy of the Taboo. It filled her mind with words, and each word was accompanied by knowledge. The rite wove itself into her memories, encoding it into her very being: Goodbye Heartlight Torn yolk's last rite Wish we may survive the night Body broken, eyes bright Hello Flashes of memories danced before her eyes—memories that did not belong to her. She saw chanting Matoran. She saw fires blazing. She saw knives flashing in the dim light, and blood spilling over stones. The Taboo burned its mark into her armor. The forbidden knowledge was hers, etched permanently into her physical form. Cravious watched as the Aspect seemed to freeze in place. Then, from the fair end of the chamber, he heard the sound of movement. If he turned to look, he would see a titanic figure with a strange mask and tormented eyes limp into the chamber under the weight of a mighty axe. The being stopped and watched the unfolding scene carefully. The Taboo was fading quickly from the wall, but he recognized it before its light fully disappeared. His expression did not change; it was like his face was carved from stone. "So," Axxon said. "You have discovered the truth." OOC: @~Xemnas~, @Kal the Guardian. Xemnas, keep your eyes open for a PM.

IC: Axxon, Tuakana | Nightmare Pits The titan descended into the darkness. The shadows, like cobwebs, seemed to cling to him as he moved. They seemed almost malevolent; they were not ordinary shadows like those cast by the light of the sun. Those shadows, though dark, are still birthed by light. They exist in a delicate state of balance, dancing according to the movement of the light. No—these shadows were different, for they had never known the light of day. Sunlight never penetrated this ancient tunnel. Its stony walls had never tasted the sun's kiss. The shadows, perhaps natural darkness once upon a time, had grown malformed and twisted in its absence. They pooled in the hollows of the rock; they dripped from the ceiling like oil. They were nigh corporeal, and they caressed Axxon's armour like a lover might. Like dark, fleshless fingers, they draped themselves over his shoulders and curled around his arms. He ignored them and wrestled forward, ever moving deeper into the mountain. He felt Tuakana stir, then retreat deeper within his mind, until the Aspect's presence could hardly be felt at all. He felt eyes upon him, though everywhere he looked he saw only bare stone, and a strange off-white mist that clung to the ground, hiding it from sight. This made walking difficult, and more than once he misjudged the distance or caught his foot on a hidden bump in the path and stepped down hard, jostling the amalgam he carried in his side. He winced in pain each time this happened, but, cursing under his breath, he kept moving. The tunnel made its way steadily downward. Sometimes there were rough-hewn steps to make the descent easier, but all too often the path simply sloped down into the darkness, and he had to place a hand on the wall to keep his balance. The stone was warm and slick under his touch, but he fought back his disgust and pressed on. The only way was forward. The air grew hotter as Axxon descended, until it singed his armour and burned his optics. The stink of sulfur and burning oil surrounded him. Bones crunched beneath his feet, though he knew better than to look closely and see what kind they were. He kept his eyes up, looking ever deeper into the darkness, looking for whatever it was that was watching him. Every time he turned a corner or came to a landing after descending a flight of crude stairs, the feeling of being watched returned. He didn't know what was watching him, but he could guess. He knew it was ancient and hungry, a demon from beyond space and outside time. The horror waited for him at the end of this twisting corridor of bones, rotting in its own filth. He had sought to escape it, but it had drawn him back across millennia to walk into its jaws. He was afraid, he realized. The fear had crept upon him unnoticed, beginning as unease and growing into a terror that threatened to bring him to his knees. He clenched his fists so tight, he thought his fingers might break. But one step after another, each footstep accompanied by the sound of breaking bones, he moved forward. Down, down, into the belly of the mountain. The tunnel twisted and turned like it was alive. Axxon felt himself going in circles, but was unable to stop the pattern. He was caught in the cycle, and there was no escape. He walked ever downward, but always seemed to find himself going up. Each descent seemed to turn into an ascent halfway, but he could never pinpoint exactly when this change occured. The path did not care about his logic. It moved as it would, and he could only follow, groping in the darkness. The tunnel's contradictions led him through places that had once existed, as well as places that had yet to come into being. He walked through clouds of whispers, the voices of people he had once known. He felt memories on his skin like a soft rain; he tasted loss on his tongue like a bitter draught. The stairs led down. Sometimes he felt himself falling and his stomach leaped into his throat, but when he thrust out a hand to catch himself on the tunnel wall, he always found himself standing still with heart pounding and lungs heaving. Then he continued, stepping on bones, always descending into the shadows. Memories whispered around him, begging him to turn to one side or another. Save us! Save us, they pleaded. Axxon found himself weeping, for there was no other path to walk. The stairs led down. The air grew hotter. The voices grew more desperate, but still he could not pacify them. He saw movement out of the corners of his eyes, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. There was no way to help. He could only walk forward, ever descending into the realm of nightmares and fever dreams. He was lost. He could not protect them. His people were surely doomed. The stairs led down. He walked for an eternity, or so it seemed. He walked through memories of his past, and memories of a past that might have been. His pace slowed. Each step seemed terribly heavy. How matter how deeply he drew breath, he felt suffocated. The tunnel had but one path, but it felt like he was wandering through labyrinth. Flickers of childhood nightmares danced at the edges of his vision, horrors he had long forgotten that now seemed all too real. Only his desperation kept him moving forward. He needed to find the Disks. He needed to save himself from death. The stairs led down. Each step was accompanied by the crunch of old bones. Would his soon join them? He felt feverish. He was cold, yet when he raised a hand to his forehead, it was burning hot. The darkness seemed to grow deeper with every passing moment, yet there was always enough light by which to see his regrets. His follies. His deepest fears. The years he had wasted. The lies he had told. The monsters that had once lived under his bed. They had not vanished as he had grown older. They had simply come to live here, and waited for him to return. The stairs led down. The ghostly outline of a Toa stood in the middle of the path. Its pearly white armour illuminated itself in the darkness. As Axxon approached, the Toa turned to look at him with haunting eyes. The titan gasped in recognition and horror. It was Dume. The Toa reached out a hand as if asking for help, his eyes growing wider, his mouth opening in a scream that Axxon could not hear. He could only watch as Dume's face twisted in silent agony. The Toa began to dissolve into mist, and his hand still reached out for the titan to take, the fingers rigid with pain, the muscles spasming— "Enough," Axxon whispered, suddenly lucid. Fueled by his hatred of this foul place, he activated his Rode. The mask of truth extinguished Dume like a candle. It burned away the phantasms and silenced the whispers. It dispersed the mists like a wind and blew the nightmares into nothingness, until all that remained was the bare rock of the tunnel. It was barely lit by a red glow that came from somewhere just ahead. He began to walk again. Each step was slow, yet purposeful. He felt the weight of his axe on his back, and the pain of the amalgam in his side. His eyes were heavy with weariness, but he could not rest. Not until he returned to the place he had been torn from and remedied what had been broken. He had cut through the illusions, but still felt like something was watching him. The demon of the volcano was no phantom. It waited for him in the darkness, stinking and vile. The red glow grew a little brighter as he finished his descent. He had not thought it possible, but the air grew even hotter. Each breath burned his lungs. But it was almost over. His journey was near its end.

Happy holidays everyone! This year has been a couple different flavours of crazy, but this game has been a consistent bright spot through it all. Thank you to UN for your tireless work and your big ideas, and thank you to everyone else who has helped bring those ideas to life. It's been a joy playing with you all.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum The iStone lit up. It was the latest model, and the battery-saving sleep mode could keep it alive for weeks. It showed Ostrox the last item that its user had been looking at: a labelled map of the entire Coliseum. It detailed every room in the building, the placement of every fire extinguisher and emergency exit, and the location of the nearest supply of emergency evacuation equipment for every floor. It was very small, which is probably why its last user had been using the projector to display it. But if he tried, Ostrox could zoom in, and swipe left or right to change floors. If a fire is small enough to be non-threatening, you should attempt to extinguish it with the nearest fire extinguisher, said one bullet point on the leaflet. It was accompanied by some pixelated clip art of a fire extinguisher with cartoon eyes and a smile. The next two bullet points said: If the emergency alarm sounds and you do not know the reason, you should immediately evacuate. If you are on the lower 20 floors, use the stairs. Do not use the elevators. If you are higher than the 20th floor, locate the nearest supply of emergency evacuation equipment. One floor below, six Vahki exited the elevators in a carefully ordered mechanical stampede. Jaws full of disks, they entered the waiting room and loosed half a dozen blasts of energy at the illusory Ostrox. When these blasts passed through the illusion, two Vahki immediately moved towards the washrooms, from where the frightened cries of the second illusory Ostrox could be heard. Two of the other four fired their disks of weakening on Iradra's hardlight barrier, and began to break it off of their comrade with their staffs. The final two Vahki moved toward the shattered window and looked out, searching for any signs of airborne prey. OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler @Onaku

IC: Reliable Narrator | Nightmare Pits The shadows rippled and danced under Whira's command, and continued to scrub away the dirt and grime that obscured the engraving. Dust and ash flaked away from a final scene, which Cravious examined closely. It was done in the same style as the previous etching of the forge, complete with the little cuneiform letters that ran through all the others. It depicted a temple of some kind, resting in the clearing of a lush jungle. Six obelisks rose from a circle of stone, and it was here a tiny figure stood. The figure was roughly carved, so small as to hardly be visible. The focus was on the temple itself, and on the area surrounding it. Half-hidden amidst the trees and verdant growth were six bunkers, each with a tall door. Even etched into stone, they seemed imposing and powerful. As the last flake of ash fell away, the whole series of carvings suddenly lit up with a soft red light. No—not all the carvings. It was only the cuneiform letters, the ones that twisted their way through each etching, the ones that neither Cravious nor Whira could decipher. Each letter glowed dimly, revealing a vast shape hidden amongst all the engravings. It was a circle with four long lines emerging from it, two in each direction. Each set of lines wove through the carved scenes like tentacles, casting their light upon the engravings. The pictures suddenly seemed menacing. The dim red light turned previously serene expressions of the Toa into expressions of cruelty and malice. The ferocious grins of the Skakdi seemed like grimaces of pain and fear. And the six Matoran-like figures who offered up the six lights—their peaceful faces were now twisted in horrific agony, their mouths screaming silently. The smell of blood and bile rose like a wind. The chattering laughter of the pit witches grew in volume, and the darkness seemed to grow deeper, resisting even Whira's attempts to keep the shadows under her control. It darkened until the carvings could no longer be seen. Only the red shape was still visible, etched into the stone like a bloody signature. Whira had never seen it before, but she recognized it instantly for what it was. Just like anyone will catch the smell of rotting flesh and know something is wrong, or instinctively spit at the taste of blood. The recognition came from somewhere beyond thought. Somewhere deeper than memory. It was a Taboo. OOC: Thanks for your patience @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Zaliyah burst through the window into the new room. As she staggered to her feet, a little woozy from the impact, she noticed she was in what appeared to be an open-concept office. Desks and chairs were arranged haphazardly. A potted plant in one corner had fallen over, spilling dirt across the carpet. Computer monitors lay on the ground, some shattered, some not. A painting hung crookedly on one wall, displaying a Kahu in flight against a stony gray sky. On the far side of the room, it looked like someone had been giving a safety presentation when they had been forced to evacuate. Papers were scattered here and there, displaying typed bullet-points on WHAT TO DO IN AN EVACUATION. An i-Stone lay on one desk, plugged into a projector pointed at pull-down white screen on one wall. Both devices appeared off, but if she looked closer, Zaliyah would notice each blinking every few seconds with a soft blue light. They were just in sleep mode. Behind the Hordika, Iradra and Ostrox jumped through the window, the Toa's hardlight platform rippling out of existence as they did so. One floor below, the elevators dinged one after another, and began to open. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum, Waiting Room B The Nullifier swung its arm up to block Iradra's blow, catching her sword on its staff. Confident that this was the real Toa, it spun its other arm around in an unnatural display of machine flexibility to fire its staff directly into her body— Zaliyah's beam blew its head clean off in a shower of sparks. The Nullifier's body collapsed back into the pile of splintered wood and drywall, leaving Iradra unscathed. The other Vahki ducked under Iradra's projectile, a new disk glowing into being in its mechanical jaws. With two swift steps, it was upon the right-most Iradra. It attempted the same maneuver its ally had tried moments ago: one staff swung at the Toa's head, while the other fired a blast of erasing energy at point-blank range. In the lobby, the doors to each elevator remained closed. A black screen was installed above each set of doors to display the elevator's current location with a glowing red number. The numbers were swiftly ticking up. Reinforcements were on their way. IC: Reliable Narrator | Silver Sea Shore Waveahk was roused from his nap by a chiming sound. If he looked out the window, he would see the airship was beginning to make its descent towards the shores of the protodermis lake. Its shadow grew gradually to meet them, and the ship landed gently on the ground with a bump. Little clouds of dust puffed up from each place the landing gear came to rest. Outside the ship, the air was warm and the sky was clear. Tufts of thin, hardy grass rippled here and there in the breeze. The rear hatch opened with a hiss of venting steam. "Last stop," a robotic voice said through invisible speakers. "Please mind the gap." IC: Taja | Metru-Koro Taja kept working, but she was starting to wonder: Where was Whisper? OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler @Onaku

IC: Reliable Narrator | Coliseum, Waiting Room B The Nullifier's canister slowly rose from its back as the machine faced its opponents. Zaliyah's movement caught its eye. Turning slightly, it summoned another disk and prepared to fire. As it did so, it began to unleash its invisible nullification energies, to steal Iradra's power over light and get rid of that pesky barrier, the one that blocked Zaliyah's own energy blast-- It wasn't expecting an armchair to come flying through the air. I mean, who is? The chair was well-built and solid, and it slammed into the Vahki, knocking it back into the wall again. This time, it was not lucky enough to escape unharmed. The sound of splintering glass and crackling energy was accompanied by a brief flash of light as the Nullifier's canister shattered, crushed between the robot's body and the wall. The robot staggered to its feet before being knocked down again by Iradra's headlight projectile. Its gears screamed in frustration. From its half-prone position on the ground, it fired its next disk, this time at Ostrox. As the disk fired, the second Vahki burst through the double doors in a shower of tinkling glass. Already summoning its own disk to its jaws, it fired its staffs of erasing at the center Iradra. OOC: The disk, should it strike Ostrox, is an Onu-Metru disk with the power of increase weight and a power level of 5. @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku

Congratulations to @Nato the Traveler, @Toru Nui, and @Onaku on foolishly engaging a Nullifier Vahki in combat! You have unlocked the Nullifier's profile, which I will post below for convenience. It will also be added to the GM NPC master post in the profiles topic whenever we get around to it. * * * Name: Nullifier Vahki Breed: Vahki Faction: Metru-Nui Description: Nullifier Vahki (or 'Nullifiers') have a similar appearance to regular Vahki. Built entirely of metal painted in two colors, they can switch at will between a biped and a quadruped mode, and they do not suffer from pain, exhaustion, or other organic traits. Their "mandibles" can summon and fire disks, and they can telepathically communicate with the hive and with other units. However, Nullifiers are bulkier than regular Vahki. As they were designed to respond to violent situations, their joints and vulnerable areas have been reinforced with extra plating that is designed to nullify elemental attacks. They also carry twin stun staffs through which they can fire bolts of energy with various effects, or use to physically defend themselves if necessary. Powers/Abilities: (1) Nullifiers can 'turn off' or nullify a specific innate ability of any single being they can see. The Nullifier must be aware of the ability's existence (i.e. it cannot nullify an ability it is not aware of), and the Nullifier must maintain constant line of sight (LOS) with the target. As long as the Nullifier can see its target, the target's ability cannot be activated or accessed in any way. If the Nullifier loses LOS with its target, the nullified ability can be accessed again. Only innate abilities of biomechanical beings can be nullified: gear and tools are not affected. (2) Due to their nullification technology, Nullifiers are unaffected by the elemental damage of elemental attacks. They still take the physical damage of an elemental attack. (3) Each Nullifier carries a pair of stun staffs. These staffs can fire bolts of energy which have one of six effects on the target they hit, depending on the type of staff it was fired from. Each effect is temporary, and will wear off over time: Command: the target's mind is filled with a single overriding command that must be obeyed. Loyalty: the target is filled with a strong desire for order. Suggestion: the target becomes more susceptible to suggestions. Confusion: the target's sense of time and place is scrambled. Erasing: the targer's higher mental functions are turned off, leaving only their motor skills intact. Presence: the Vahki can see and hear whatever the target sees or hears. The target is unaware of this. (4) Nullifiers can summon Kanoka disks from the nearest Vahki hive. These disks vary in strength and ability. (5) Nullifiers can telepathically communicate with other Vahki and with the nearest Vahki hive. They can use their connection with the hive to access criminal records, city databases, and other sources of information. (6) Nullifiers can act independently of a Vahki hive if needed. By generating an ultrasonic frequency that nearby Vahki can hone in on, they can become a ‘hotspot’ and create a limited hive mind, allowing them to act outside of a hive’s range. This temporary hive mind has limited strength, and can accommodate less than a dozen Vahki before it reaches its limit. Flaws: (1) When Nullifiers begin the nullification process, a glowing cylindrical canister emerges from between their shoulder blades. This is where the nullification energy radiates from. Should the canister be shattered, the Vahki loses the ability to nullify. (2) Nullifiers, being more heavily armored, are slower and bulkier than regular Vahki. They can be more easily out-maneuvered and outpaced. (3) Nullifiers must maintain LOS to nullify an innate ability. Losing LOS ends the nullification. 4) Like all Vahki, Nullifiers must obey the commands of their masters. They will attempt to carry out orders without regard for their own safety or survival. (5) Like all Vahki, Nullifiers do not feel pain or exhaustion. Without these warning mechanisms, they can literally tear themselves apart in pursuit of an objective.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum, Waiting Room B The Nullifier's energy blast dissipated harmlessly against Iradra's wall of light. It whirred in annoyance and began to turn to the meddlesome Toa when its optical sensor caught the blur of the Rhotuka coming over the wall. It lifted an arm to shield its head, but the detonation was still enough to blast it back into the far wall. The table exploded in a shower of splinters. Coffee mugs went everywhere. That close-range blast might have taken out an ordinary Vahki, but Nullifiers, designed to respond to more dangerous situations, were built stronger and tougher than regular Vahki units. Their bulky armour and extra plating made them slower, but also made them harder to take out. The robot climbed out of the remains of the table, its eyes flickering from target to target. A cylindrical canister began to emerge from its back, glowing with a greenish-yellow light. Raising its staff, it fired a second blast of energy at the left-most Iradra. If it struck, it would fill her mind with the same command it had attempted to plant in Zaliyah's. At the same time, it fired its disk at the central Iradra. Outside the room, the receptionist Vahki prepared to blast through the glass doors and join the fray. The elevators continued their ascent. OOC: The disk, should it hit the real Iradra, is a Ta-Metru disk with the power of levitation and a power level of 2. @Nato the Traveler @Onaku @Toru Nui IC: Taja | Metru-Koro With the funeral over and Whisper off on her own quest, Taja made herself busy helping out around the village. She still didn't have as much control over her shadow powers as she liked, but she could at least conjure wide shovel-like constructs to scoop rubble out of the way, or use the help of a half-dozen extra shadow arms to move larger pieces of broken stone. Even without her enhanced hearing, she could hear muttered whispers wherever she went, and she often caught sight of someone staring, only for them to turn away and pretend they hadn't. She felt like a Rahi on display in the Archives. Shadow wasn't exactly a common element, after all. Not to mention he hadn't been born with it: she'd received it from a tentacled island native. She hoped that part of the story hadn't gotten out...

IC: Tuakana, Axxon | Irnakk's Tooth Though the mountain rock was black, the hand that appeared at the lip of the ledge was blacker. Grabbing hold of a rocky outcropping, the shadowy hand hauled its creator up onto the ledge. They were breathing hard, unused to the effort of physical exertion. Their armour had never required breath, food, water, or rest. They had passed under the shadow of the Tooth a hundred hundred times and never found it hard. But this body's lungs strained against the smoky air. It vented steam and dripped sweat. It fatigued. It reminded them of their enemy: entropy. The consumer of life. The companion of death. It made their will the stronger to overcome their eternal foe. They struggled to their feet and, gasping, beheld their goal: the doorway to Irnakk's domain. It was less a doorway than a hole in the mountain's face. Roughly carved, but worn smooth by cursed time. Thin smoke drifted from the tunnel's mouth. The air inside was surely foul. Two tall and spindly cairns of Skakdi skulls balanced atop one another flanked the entrance. Their white teeth grinned in warning. The shadows within were impenetrable, even to the Aspect's practiced eye. This was darkness of a different kind. They receded, weary for the first time, and Axxon emerged. He blinked his own eyes and drew his own breath, no longer a passenger in his own body. He knew this place, though the landscape had changed over the eons. He had stood guard here as the Forgemaster toiled within. He had kept the demons at bay, protecting their salvation. And it was here, on this cursed doorstep, that he had lost that salvation to the thief, Atamai. Now, with the Aspect's help, he would remedy that failure. Taking a deep breath, Axxon plunged ahead into the darkness. The shadows seemed to cling to his armour as he descended, and he quickly vanished from sight. Outside the doorway, the Skakdi skulls continued to grin. Their empty eyes had watched many pilgrims enter the mountain. And no matter how few or many sought the fires of the Tooth, they were always short one being when they came out again. The mountain did not forgive. It did not play games. Its hunger would not be denied.

IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum, Waiting Room B "Right, I- Uh..." True to its word, the Nullifier took Iradra's lack of movement as deliberate obstructionism. Ignoring Ostrox's thrown magazine, it swept the Toa out of its way with one staff, sending her crashing into the far wall in a cloud of dust and broken drywall. Then it advanced towards the washrooms just as Zaliyah stepped out. “Our escort is just doing its job,” The Hordika said, smiling at the automaton. “You can tell the Barraki we’re ready to see him now.” The Vahki disregarded her feigned innocence as it summoned a disk to its jaws. Direct orders from Barraki Aurax had already been downloaded to its clockwork brain: kill Zaliyah and her two companions, as well as any who attempt to kill me. The time for negotiation was over—now it was time to kill. If the robot were any less, well, robotic, it would have smiled at the prospect. Its weapons already crackling with energy, it fired a blast from its Staff of Command at Zaliyah. Should it hit, her mind would be filled with a single overriding command: kill the biomechanicals. Outside the room, the Vahki from the reception desk was scuttling down the hall to join the fight, its blue Hau swinging from side to side. Other Vahki had already commissioned the elevators. They would arrive in minutes. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku

IC: Taja | Metru-Koro Having exited Vulimai's hut, Taja and Whisper stood by and watched the funeral. Knichou's customs were strange to Taja, but the solemn and reverent way he spoke the rites sent chills down her spine. She didn't know whom they were mourning, but it was probably someone she knew, or at least had someone she had seen around the village. She clenched her fists, remembering how much they had all lost. As the fire began to burn brighter, she found herself mouthing her own words silently. Words she had learned in another world. Another life. May the Great Spirit carry you to Artakha. Be at peace.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Nightmare Pits Even as the nauseating smell of old blood and rot rose around them, Whira continued to scrap away the grime and ash from the walls. Bits and pieces flaked away here and there, revealing more petroglyphs. These were carved in the same hand as the previous etching depicting the giant being, and the artist's focus was noticeably different compared to the first pictures. Instead of focusing on gory injuries and expressions of pain and fury, these etchings depicted beings who showed no emotion. Their mouths were straight lines, and their eyes were solemn. Even the pictures of blood and war were carved in a serene manner, like the dying and the dead had accepted their fate. The first carving showed more wars between different beings. Clouds spilled lightning down upon frilled Skakdi with exaggerated, monstrous proportions. Their toothy smiles were almost as big as their faces. Whirlwinds swept up ACRs and Rahi steeds, knocking their riders to the ground. Spears of stone shot up from the ground, impaling whatever was unfortunate enough to be standing above them. All these displays of elemental power appeared to be the work of six Toa-shaped beings who stood to one side, their faces serene, each pointing to the battlefield with a single judgmental finger. The next scene portrayed a single Toa standing beside what appeared to be a forge. With a shock, Cravious recognized it as the shrine he had seen with his X-ray vision. It was stylized, certainly, but the shape was exactly the same. Exaggerated flames licked out of the sides, looking for something to consume. The Toa had his hands held out before him, palms up, as if receiving a gift. And below the Toa, arranged in a semi-circle, six smaller beings knelt on the ground, their hands raised. Cravious frowned and looked closer. Each small being was holding some kind of jewel or light in both hands, proffering it to the Toa. And though each small being knelt with a serene expression on their face, they were each bleeding from a hole in their chest. The following scene depicted the same scene, but some details had changed. The six smaller beings now lay sprawled on the ground in six pools of blood, their eyes closed, but their faces still wearing their strangely peaceful expressions. Their six gems were gone. The Toa now stood with both hands raised above his head, and above him hovered a semicircle of six floating spheres. The Toa's face was the only one in this series with a different expression. His mouth was slack, and his eyes were wide with awe. The same cuneiform letters that ran through the other scenes ran through this one too. The next etching was worn away, lost to the ravages of time. Cravious looked back at the scene of the Toa and the spheres. He found himself strangely drawn to it, like there was something in it he recognized. He looked closer. The Toa was unknown to him. The forge, burning so brightly in the previous scene, was now out. And the six spheres... wait. No. They weren't spheres at all, he realized. They were disks. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~