55555

Script was good enough for Shakespeare, so there's that. I've never written in it, but it has some benefits. You lose a lot of the narrator elements, and that is replaced with practical imagery. And characters thoughts are a lot more difficult to put in.- 55555

Happy birthday!Enjoy whatever stuff happens to happen.- 55555

I enjoyed it. I liked the way you didn't actually say he was old, but gradually let us realize that as you described his trouble doing his various tasks, and going into him being a hermit for so long.I like the idea of him realizing his death was coming and preparing for it in practical, prideful, and symbolic ways. To me unexplained, possibly supernatural things like a his knowledge of his upcoming death are really good ideas and add a lot of mojo to a story.Glad you entered this challenge, I hope you had fun with it. - 55555

Here's the belated banner:And for good measure:"The general who wins a battle makes many calculations in his temple ere the battle is fought. The general who loses a battle makes but few calculations beforehand. Thus do many calculations lead to victory, and few calculations to defeat: how much more no calculation at all! It is by attention to this point that I can foresee who is likely to win or lose."-Sun Tzu, the Art of War- 55555

• [*]Artificial Intelligence Ackar was quietly reading when he heard a noise behind him, a light metal scrape and the unnerving whirr of mechanical joints. It was something he had grown to live with, but he still found it unsettling. He breathed in and turned to the little mechanical creature standing beside his chair. They were odd creatures, certainly. Hey had come from the metal giant that had touched down on the planet and healed their world by reuniting the three pieces of the planet. Then, its duty done, it shut down, and the parts were scrapped by the celebrating Agori. But not before they discovered the creatures. They lived in cities, working to keep the robot running. But they were mindless, it seemed; they did not speak unless asked a question, and they seemed to have no will of their own. So, they were taken from the robot and used as drones, as robotic servants. Ackar had been issued one of the species ‘Matoran’, but he didn’t much like having it around. The thing wore red armour and an odd mask, and it seemed an expert in metalwork. It repaired armour and weapons with remarkable ease. When Ackar asked its name, it had replied with a monotonic “Matoran_Vakama”. Now, as he looked at it, he found himself feeling guilty. It really DID look like some sort of child, and he felt terrible for sending it to sleep in the closet every night. It disturbed him with its blank expression and dull eyes, but it could not be helped. It was here to stay. “You, uh, finished the repairs on my armour?” Ackar asked it. It nodded, and Ackar glanced away. “… Ah. And dinner is prepared?” It responded with “System_task: ‘Prepare Dinner’ completed.” “Oh, good.” Ackar rose, and Vakama dutifully placed his book back on the shelf. The red warrior sighed and stretched his aging limbs. “All right. Thank you.” He was about to head off for the kitchen when the communicator on his table buzzed. He pressed a button on it and spoke into the receiver. “Hello, this is Ackar.” “Yeah, I know, I called your number.” It was Kiina, and she sounded peeved. “What’s wrong?” “My Toa, Helryx, that’s what! It’s REFUSING to spar with me!” “Refusing? Are you using simple words with it?” “Yes, but it’s still saying ‘Request denied’ or something like that.” It was then that Ackar heard something behind him. The softest of clicks. He spoke softly into the receiver, “Kiina, I’ll call you back. Be careful.” “What-“ He hung up the phone and turned, ready for a surprise attack. What he saw was Vakama, wielding a sword made from scrap metal. The Matoran hadfire in its eyes, and it was burning brighter than any sun. The hand wielding the blade was shaking terribly. It said, in a tone that, for once, wavered with emotion, “System_task: ‘Fight For Freedom’ in progress.” Ackar looked at the small creature, which stared back with the eyes of a frightened child. He smiled weakly. “Here’s a new system task for you, friend: go free.” The robot dropped the weapon, unbelieving. Then, without another word, it ran. Ackar watched it go, and silently wished it a safe journey. ------- [*]Tahu’s Landing Tahu stood up for the first time and looked around. He was on a barren, desert island. In the distance, he could see the glowing form of a volcano. But it was odd somehow; more of an artificial shape than an actual volcano should have. Tahu knew about volcanoes; he was the Toa of Fire after all. Of course, that was about all he knew. He had just reassembled himself after his canister had landed on the beach. Before then, he had been inside it for endless ages, and his memory was mostly blank. He still had visions from a past life. There were people, smaller than him, who he assisted. There were beasts who he fought. And there were other beings, similar to him, who he worked with closely. Even the white one, who he felt a strong rivalry towards, was still his ally. They were a team. And they had a purpose. There was an evil that they had to face. The exact details were fuzzy, but they would do their best to see that it was defeated. Tahu started walking down the sand, glancing around. His first priority, then, would be to locate his teammates. He walked a few paces away from his canister, but then his foot stepped on something in the sand. He glanced down to see a Bio-mechanical part, similar to those of which he had just used to build himself. Thinking he must have missed this piece, Tahu knelt down to examine it. To his surprise, it was a hand, and Tahu had both his already accounted for. He brushed aside some of the sand, and soon realized it wasn’t just a hand. It was a full bio-mechanical skeleton. The being, whoever it had been, was smaller than Tahu, but still similarly proportioned. But he was long gone, as his biological components had died away. From his overall position, Tahu surmised that this creature had been in pain when he met his demise. Surely great evil had taken place here. Tahu continued down the beach, but his horror grew as he found more and more bodies. There had been quite a crowd on this beach when the slaughter began. There were hundreds of the small beings, and Tahu found that they all wore masks similar to his own. And then he found the larger ones. Six of them, about as tall as Tahu himself; all pass away. Tahu somehow knew that they weren’t his teammates, but still, they must have been his brothers in arms. Something had taken the lives of all the beings on the beach. Something evil had occurred here. And Tahu now knew his purpose. He would find this evil, and defeat it. Leaving the bodies on the beach behind, Tahu ventured towards the volcano. ------- [*]Sidorak’s Zoo It’s more of a long hallway beneath Sidorak’s Coliseum than a zoo. But he likes to call it a zoo anyways. The exhibit is made up of a handful of the most amazing Visorak Venom mutations in all of Metru Nui. The cages they are kept in are more like power-negating cells built into the wall with thick glass for observation purposes. Beneath each cage is an inscribed plaque that states the species of the animal before it was disfigured beyond recognition. If one enters the exhibition hallway from the front of the Coliseum, the first cage on the right, holds a grand Fader Bull mutation. It stands taller than a Toa at the shoulder. Hooves have wicked claws growing from them at painful angles, and its jaw has twisted into a horrible, fanged under bite. A rhotuka launcher sits in the middle of its forehead. The hordika mutation across from the Fader Bull was once a noble Gukko bird. Now its neck, formerly elegant and serene, is cricked and molting. Its beak is misaligned gruesomely and sickly green saliva drips from its mouth that never closes. Its wings drag on the ground behind it, fully dysfunctional. It has dead eyes and a hopeless spirit. Moving on, the next exhibit on the right-hand side is a Takea shark. But the unfortunate thing has so much Venom coursing though it’s veins that it has become a land-rahi, and an ugly one at that. It has short stumps for legs, sprouting randomly from its underside. They resemble tumors more than legs. One of its eyes has migrated to the other side of its face, making it totally blind on one side. Perhaps to compensate, that side has sprouted a spinner-launcher. It’s impossible to tell how it can breathe air now, but the process looks painful regardless. Set opposite the eerie corridor now is a mutated Muaka Tiger. The hordika rahi has top fangs so long that they almost reach the floor, making it impossible for it to lie down. Two large growths on its back occasionally shiver, possibly wings waiting to sprout. Between the prospect wing buds sits a useless and warped Rhotuka Launcher. The last six exhibits are the most amazing. Not because of the pure horror of the atrocities they house, but because of what those atrocities used to be. Primal and perhaps at one point sentient, they prowl around their cells like delusional wolves that are constantly in a state of suffering. They are hunched and walk with aid of their long arms, snapping savagely at any passerby and foaming at the mouth. Bestial intelligence can occasionally be seen glinting in their eyes. Each is equipped with a fully functional Rhotuka, and many of the cages bear marks of these. Through the glass, nobody can hear them. But if the glass was not soundproof, the entire Coliseum would be filled with anguished howling and wails of the condemned creatures for eternity. Even though all six look like they could have once been from the same species, their plaques indicate differently. Each one reads a different species name. Vakama Nokama Matau Nuju Onewa Whenua ------- [*]Time It was the end of the Universe as they knew it. The very fabric of reality, the Space-Time continuum, had been torn apart, massive wormholes popped in and out of existence, and Time shifted, merciful as a Piraka. Amidst this mayhem a Toa of Ice sat with a Toa of Earth, sheltered within a machine of their own making. The Toa of Ice spoke: "there is no sense in returning to the past, trying to set this straight: our Universe will still exist in this state, our act will only create an alternate universe which, undoubtedly, would have been created otherwise. There is nothing we can do that has not already been done." "I have analyzed all available data, from that pivotal point in Time, there is nothing that could have saved our Universe from the Time Collapse. If we return to steal the Vahi, take it before it can be destroyed, we can create an alternate Universe. We can save Time." "We are needed here." "Inhabitants of this Universe are doomed. Should we deny these Matoran a better fate in an alternate universe?" ----- The two Toa activated the Time Machine, checking and rechecking meters, dials, statistics. The slightest error, and they could materialize inside a mountain, instantly killing themselves, removing all hope of an ordered Universe. The machine began to vibrate as it drew power from energized protodermis, and it slipped through a gaping hole in the Fabric of Reality, taking a shortcut into the past, to that fateful point in Time... ----- A Toa of Ice stood outside a large structure, waiting to be relieved of guard duties. He didn’t wait long, for soon, a Toa of Earth approached him, took his place. Behind a gate, an identical Toa of Ice stepped out of a great Machine, moving aside for an identical Toa of Earth to emerge. “We mustn’t be seen...especially not by ourselves. A paradox is the last thing we need.” The Toa climbed over the gate, darting behind obstacles as they made their way toward the great structure. They gave themselves a wide berth as they made their way around the building, climbing the walls, through an open window. There was no Time to lose. Rushing silently through corridors, hardly daring to breathe, they found themselves in front of the door. The door behind which the Mask of Time rested; innocent, yet guilty, of the end of Time as we know it. The Toa of Earth heard his past self outside of the building, yelling, he remembered doing the exact thing. Soon, the malicious individual would arrive. They grabbed the Vahi, dashing out the door. The Toa of Stone heard himself rushing up the stairs, remembered chasing a thief, just before Time was torn apart. The Toa launched themselves out of the window, sprinting madly toward the Time Machine. The Toa of Earth stumbled, fell to the ground, the Vahi cracked beneath him. Then the realization struck him: he was the thief, it was he who had caused the end of Time. Could he undo his actions, save Reality? Nearby plants started to wilt as Time took a blow; the Toa gathered up the fragments the Vahi, sprinting the last few meters to the Time Machine, locking themselves inside, powering on, isolating themselves from Reality, and not a moment too soon. The Vahi let out a blast of energy, strong enough to cripple Reality, yet affecting no more than two brave Toa and a Time Machine, cut off from the Universe, from Reality. Time, the brutal dictator, would live to govern another day. ------ [*]Mindscape The Toa have failed us, and we can no longer trust them. What scattered few survived the Death of Mata Nui and the resulting chaos now live in the crumbling ruins of Metru Nui. “Our Great Hero,” the one destined to awaken Mata Nui lies on the shores, stoned to death the moment he arrived on the island, the Kanohi Ignika still in his grasp. I guess some might say that we need their help, because Matoran have started disappearing. I have no reason to fear, because I know exactly where they’re going. Years ago, when the Matoran’s protodermis supplies began running low, the old Onu-Le-Koro Highway was expanded in a desparate attempt to scavenge any last remnant of the life blood of our civilization. What we found was much more shocking. At first, it was simply a spot we could not penetrate, but as the tunnels webbed over and around, soon eyes, mouth, and nose took shape. A few brave Onu-Matoran ventured inside a small hatch, and discovered the massive robot was the being we called Mata Nui. They also discovered a large, rotating sphere that must have once glowed with the energy of the Great Spirit. Upon a touch, the Matoran was sucked away into another world. Mindscape. A virtual world inside our Great Spirit full of infinite possibilities, the place I was going today. The only way to get there was to get around a barricade into the lost tunnel, and into a dismal room filled with the limp bodies of Matoran who entered earlier. With a simple touch, my Kanohi dissolved into Matoran symbols, and a deep voice I could imagine was Mata Nui announced “Now entering Mindscape: Name: Therikh; Element: Iron. The Matoran symbols vanished, revealing a dark street criss-crossed with lit panels through my visor. My mask had changed slightly, and my body had become black with glowing rust-red lines representing my element. Then I knew everything had changed. It was then that a Le-Matoran startled me as he crashed into me. “Go back!” He repeatedly shouted. “It isn’t safe here; it isn’t the utopia you’d…uh!” A blast of shadow hit him from behind, suffocating him as he collapsed. A being stepped out from the same alley and almost pitifully gazed on the now dead Matoran. The body had collapsed into more symbols, and the being casually kicked aside the mask. “Pardon me, but I thought as ruler of this place, I would formally welcome you to Mindscape. You’ll be here for a long, long time.” The voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t until his lights on his body lit up that I recognized him. The lights seemed to suck away from the dim panels, darkening this world further, and then his Kraakan lit up. “Makuta…” I gasped. His large grin confirmed my statement, and I immediately began running, expecting to be blasted down any moment, but Teridax just shouted “The Matoran are building a statue in honor of me; I would be very offended if you didn’t join!” I somehow knew it would be very bad if he was offended. --<>-- Eventually, I knew I had to stop running when I came to the aforementioned statue. Lightstones were just being added by the skilled Po-Matoran when a cloaked figure caught up to me. He quietly bid me follow him, and soon we found a small hut on the outskirts of the large city. My mysterious greeter took off his hood to reveal the Le-Matoran Teridax had killed. In a hurry, he quickly handed me a Toa stone and a new destiny to kill Teridax… ------ [*]The Fatal Forests Glatorian stalked through the undergrowth, weapons ready. On this sort of battlefield, it was only the most vigilant warriors that survived. Under the canopy of verdure there was low light penetration and guerilla warriors reigned supreme. About 100,000 years ago, the Shattering had split Spherus Magna into three major components. As everyone knew, nearly all Glatorian and Agori had ended up on the forest moon of Bota Magna. At first, things began to settle down as the villages realized what destruction they’d wrought with the Core War. Unfortunately, the foolish Skrall race had shown up, rampaging through the jungle and trying to claim an empire. It was like they thought they were still fighting on the Black Spike Mountains. War in a jungle was an entirely different matter. Rather than finding an empire, they found their forces veritably butchered by the Jungle Tribe. Claiming they’d adverted a crisis that would have been disastrous for all Tribes, the Jungle Tribe then took to rewarding themselves for their heroic actions by enslaving the entire Skrall race. This led to controversy. The Fire Tribe violently argued against the moral implications of enslaving defeated enemies and the Ice Tribe backed them, but for less ethical and more practical reasons: they thought the Jungle Tribe was plenty strong enough, already being in their element and the most populous Tribe. Shortly thereafter, the Water Tribe promised to ally with the Jungle Tribe. They had seen how easily the Jungle Tribe had annihilated the Skrall invaders and wanted to avoid confrontation with the Tribe that had done that. Bota Magna was hostile. Biomechanical dinosaurs ran rampant and lethally toxic creatures lurked in the shadows. But it had one redeeming quality that made war tantalizingly feasible: endless resources. Had this been Bara Magna down below, perhaps arenas would have been set up to avoid the massive resource expenditures of war, but Bota Magna was a jungle and resources were available everywhere one looked. Inevitably, the Tribes of Bota Magna reverted… and waged war once again. Biomechanical dinosaurs were trained and then sent out into large engagements as unstoppable powerhouses that devastated anything in their way. Villages were rooted out and razed to the ground. The jungle was lit ablaze time and time again by armies trying to drive back their enemies. Again and again the plants of the jungle burned and grew back in an incessant cycle of war-fueled ecological succession. Amidst this chaos, the Kanohi Ignika made its descent and the being known as Mata Nui rose from the crater. Around him were the charred remains of a dense jungle. Acrid smoke lazily drifted through the air and embers glowed. This was recent. “What happened here?” pondered Mata Nui. As an answer, a knife rose to his neck. Knowing his life was on the line, he made no attempt to move. “What’re you? A spy?” interrogated his unseen assailant. “No tribal marking that I can see… and your armor isn’t one of the tribal colors. Who are you?” “My name… is Mata Nui. I come from… very far away. And I have no idea what is going on here. Please show mercy.” What was once the ruler of a universe was now begging for mercy at the hands of a raw recruit on an alien planet. “I’m Gresh; you’re prisoner of the Jungle Tribe.” Gresh bound Mata Nui’s wrists with vine. Mata Nui would eventually realize saving his home would require ending a war. Impossible, they’d say… but no less impossible than overthrowing the Skrall Empire would be for another Mata Nui in an alternate universe.

• [*]Vakama’s Last Mistake “No, Vakama, don’t!” yelled Norik. And Vakama heeded the voice. “Why?” The spinner on his back cooled, suppressing his inner terror at the beast within. “That’s the same protodermis that you sealed the Makuta with. If you launch that, you’ll break that seal.” “Come on, Vakama.” “I won’t do this! I won’t doom my fellow Matoran to have to face him again!” Elemental spinners exploded forth from the other Toa, overloading the capacity of the stone, badly injuring Roodaka. The stone, still intact, was reduced to a smoking mass. Walking away from the injured Roodaka, the six Toa presented themselves in front of Keetongu, who returned them to their original forms. A minuscule portion of their energy sealed the Roodaka in a protodermis cage, giving her the same fate as her master. * * * “Please, Tahu. Listen to me. There is an island below – an island to which we must return.” Why did we leave there, anyway? “So now you tell me. Really Turaga, I don’t if I trust you anymore. You and your babblings about ‘Metru Nui’.” Vakama sighed. “Come with me, insolent Toa.” The six Turaga and six Toa showed up at the entrance of the tunnel. “Are you sure that this is the right one?” joked Onua. Whenua was sure he wasn’t the only one fighting a bitter taste in his mouth. If only we could give these beings something to fight, he mused. Then they wouldn’t be so annoying. * * * The six Toa Nuva arrived on Voya Nui. “Mighty quiet here” Lewa said. After a few miles of nothing but standard landscape, Tahu set fire to a nearby tree. Rain crashed down from the heavens, putting it out. “Tahu, knock it off! We are not destroyers!” “So what? This is just another dumb Turaga mission. Let’s see if we can find their pity prize before they get too agitated.” “Oh, right here” Pohatu guessed, sending a bunch of rocks cascading down to reveal a tunnel. “Easier than rolling off a Gukko bird.” Lewa commented. They charged down the tunnel, only to come face-to-face with a huge, winged titan. “Er, wrong way.” “Pohatu, can you blast us another route?” Pohatu tried his powers on the wall. No luck. “This is the right way. Obviously, this time it is a challenge” said Kopaka. He aimed an ice blast at the creature, trying to freeze it solid, but was merely met with a blast of shadow. “Er, let’s try that protocage power. That seemed to work for the Toa, back when, said Pohatu, dodging a shadow blast. Powers merged. Giant frozen. “Too easy” said Kopaka. * * * “All that talk of heroism, blah, blah, makes me sick.” hissed Tahu, holding up an Agori in disgust. “Knock it off.” “Mata Nui said-“ “I don’t care about Mata Nui. Something the Turaga made up to scare us at night.” A huge, giant colossus mandered into view, casually smashing the Toa of Fire to bits. * * * “Heremus, you should be proud of yourself. Your defense mechanism is eliminating the Toa threat.” “It’s best to be prepared for all contingencies.” Heremus smiled, going back to his creative musings. ------[*]The Cell The figure winked and vanished, leaving a rather disoriented Solek to take in his surroundings. At first glance he appeared to be in a stone cube- but after a few seconds a flash of yellow light appeared from one side, and he realized he was in a cell. “Are you sure you heard something?” A voice asked. “Positive.” A second being replied. “By Cell 4062-F.” Too confused at the moment to really be scared, Solek took a few wobbly steps over to the bars keeping him in the cell and grabbed on, pushing his mask against them in an attempt to see what was outside. “See? I told you!” The second voice said loudly. Solek flinched backward and raised one hand to shield his eyes as he found a torch suddenly swept across the bars, peeking out after a few seconds. “Why are you awake, up and about?!” Kopaka hissed at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Solek told him, confused. “Why am I here?” “Don’t you even dare try that nonsense!” Kopaka snarled. “You know why you’re in there!” “Where is here?” Solek asked. “Where is here?” Kopaka mimicked in a high pitched voice. “I swear Kopaka; I’m just a scared little Matoran! You have the wrong guy!” Solek shrank back towards the cell wall, flinching with each word Kopaka spoke. Why was the Toa speaking to him like this? Toa were supposed to be nice, not cruel. “Oh, are you scared, little Matoran?” Kopaka asked with mock sympathy, in the same high pitched voice. “Why don’t you run into Kopaka’s arms and everything will be all better!” The Matoran stumbled on something on the floor and fell, landing on a pile of rusty chains- using the torch light, Solek could see what enough to mummify a Matoran appeared. A lump of fear formed within him for the first time, and he scrambled back into the corner of the cell, away from Kopaka and the chains. “What do we have here?” Solek quickly lowered his head, staring at the cell floor as he heard the first voice, scared of what he would find. What if it wasn’t just Kopaka? What if this entire place was crazy? “We have him, Chirox.” He heard Kopaka respond. Solek’s eyes darted up- no, Kopaka would never work with a Makuta.... “Free from his shackles, eh?” Chirox chuckled. “Perhaps his turn comes sooner than I believed.” “M-my t-turn for what?” Solek couldn’t resist asking, hating the tremor within his voice. “My little Matoran, you simply must not toy with me!” Chirox laughed again. “The vat, of course. Perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll be the first to not suffer hours of agony before passing.” Solek jerked up, his mouth open to beg for mercy; before he realized that the cell was gone. “I-I don’t....” he trailed off, turning. The figure grinned at him, his smile eerie after what Solek had just witnessed. “Gotcha out just in time didn’t I?” the figure said. “Ain’t that just dandy? Almost missed ya, too- nearly got yourself boiled!” Solek shivered, glaring at the figure. “You said it would be better.” “I did say better!” the figure laughed, activating his Olmak once again. “Never said better for you, kid- it was better for me! Man, you shoulda seen the look on your face!” “What-” “Anywho, maybe you’ll like this place more. Have fun!” The figure winked at him again, and vanished. Solek closed his eyes tightly; afraid of what he might see. ------[*]Necessary A single Matoran walked in an alleyway in Ta-Metru, heading for his home. He preferred to take a more direct route, but he had to be wary of the Vahki. He had been travelling when he should have worked. He couldn’t help it. He was just a curious Matoran. His thoughts where interrupted as he entered a slightly wider, but deserted, street. In a flash of light, a ragged portal had appeared in space. Just as he registered it, it began to shrink. He couldn’t help it. He was just a curious Matoran. On the other side, he found he was in the exact same place. He looked down at himself. His armor was in place; everything was normal. Well. That was exciting. He continued on his way, thinking about what had just happened. He was so distracted he bumped right into a Vahki. The Nuurakh barely looked at him. He began to talk, making excuses as he went. The Vahki simply began to walk past. It didn’t look like it recognized him, or was aware he should be at work. That’s crazy. All these Vahki know to look out for me. Even so, the machine kept walking. Deciding this was just his lucky day, he just continued to walk. When he got to his location, he almost wished the Nuurakh had apprehended him. His home wasn’t there. The space it had occupied wasn’t empty, or deserted, it just didn’t exist. The dwellings that had been at its sides were there, but there wasn’t anything separating them anymore. He was bewildered. He began to have an idea of where he was. He had walked into an alternate universe. He looked all around him. Everything was fine. Everything was working. The only thing missing from this universe was him. The Nuurakh hadn’t recognized him because he didn’t exist. He hadn’t been reprimanded for ignoring his work, because in this world, he had never done that. Come to think of it, Ta-Metru might be more productive without me. Even his usual careless demeanor couldn’t dissipate the truth he had uncovered. He was not necessary. He could disappear from his world, and nothing bad would happen. He also realized that disappearing was exactly what he had done. He had no way of going back. It didn’t even make a difference, for as he had just learned, he did not matter. Ta-Metru would just go on existing. He refused to be thrown away so simply. He knew now that Ta-Metru didn’t need him, that what he did or didn’t do had no effect. But he could not give up. He would leave Metru Nui, go on to other lands where his presence may be more natural, and he would work his best to make a difference. He would become an asset. He would help this new world. ** From the records of the Chronicler of Mata Nui: We don’t know what to do anymore. The village is assaulted by Rahi almost daily. We have held out as long as possible, but we need help. The Turaga tell us that the stars talk of a distortion in our world. Someone is missing. We expected the arrival of the Toa years ago. The legendary Toa of Light was to come to us soon afterwards. None of them are here. The Turaga say that the Toa Stones, Mask of Light and other tools necessary are here, but nobody who has tried to retrieve them has succeeded. Now the stars talk of the Great Spirit’s demise. We are scared. We only wish we had what was necessary. -------[*]For Lack of a Chisel For lack of a chisel... "Take this Copper Mask of Victory," Turaga Onewa said, "crafted in the shape of my own. It is the greatest honor Po-Koro can give. May it bring you good fortune in your travels." Takua accepted it with pleasure. Takua was lost... Takua frantically dug through his bag, searching for something, anything, that could save him. The insectoid things were coming closer... The flute? The heatstone? One by one, every item he owned was discarded, while the strange creatures grew nearer, and nearer... He held the Copper Komau in his hand for a moment, gazing at it. Then he flung it away. Mask of Victory, indeed...he thought, leaning despairingly against the pedestal. Absolutely useless. His mind traveled back longingly to the gnomon he had once carried. Something pointy might have fitted into that space in the pedestal... Then the swarm was upon him, and he knew no more. For lack of Takua... The Great Kolhii Tournament began, with Hewkii and Hafu representing Po-Koro, Hahli and Maku from Ga-Koro, and Matoro and Kopeke from Ko-Koro - the three best teams on Mata Nui. In the stands Jaller watched glumly, a spectator. Yet again, he wished Takua had lived. Maybe if he had been Jaller's teammate... And then the Shadow fell across the Stadium... the island was lost... Pohatu was surrounded. He didn't think he would make it this time. He had been on the move, running, fighting, since the night of the Tournament. The night the Rahkshi came. There had seemed to be hundreds of them as they swept down over the field, blotting out the stars. Kraata, jumping on masks and bodies. Corrupting, enslaving... One by one, they had all fallen, until Pohatu alone fought the darkness But how, he thought, could one fight darkness without light? Now, even as he fought, a kraata leapt upon him. for lack of the island... Makuta surveyed his realm, and was well pleased. He called the Toa Nuva to him, and they came. He smiled upon them "Go, my heroes," he commanded them. "It is time to fulfill your destiny." Mata Nui was lost... Mindlessly, the Toa Nuva fed their energies into the lightstones of the Codrex. They did not know of the Av-Matoran outside their enclosure. Nor did they know that they were bringing into being massive energy storms, which would be the destruction of those Matoran - and of them. But if they had known, they would not have cared. The great robot rose from the depths of the endless ocean. And its eyes were red. for lack of Mata Nui... Makuta laughed as he felt his power. This was even greater than he had dreamed. Within his body and without, his power was limitless. He looked at the stars, with the eye of a conquerer. Spherus Magna was lost... Raanu groaned to himself. Only a week ago, the Skrall had conquered Vulcanus. Now its former leader was rebuilding their defenses, for the benefit of their conquerers. I would welcome an invasion, he thought bitterly, if anyone could conquer the Skrall. Our lot can hardly get worse. But it could, as he was shortly to discover. The rule of the Great Makuta, when he found his way to Bara Magna, would be worse than even the Skrall could imagine. And all for lack of a Po-Koro chisel. -------[*]The Toa and His Reflection The glimmering silver pool sat central in the ancient chamber. Only one even knew of its existence on the small island. He was a Toa, the conqueror of his world, a ruler with an army so strong that none would ever think to stand against him. This world was his... but he wanted more, much more. There was nothing left to conquer in his land. But through the silver pool, he could see something different. It was a world like his, only there was peace, no one ruled over them, there was a void that could be filled. He wanted to reach through, into this other world, and seize it in his grasp, rule it as his own. They wouldn't be expecting it, never know what they were dealing with when he entered into their peace and shattered it under his heel. But always when he looked into the pool, he would see another being staring back. It was himself, but different. He looked less menacing, less terrifying. He looked weak. He tried touching the pool, seeing that the other did the same. Then a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps it crossed the mind of the other him at the same time, he expected that it did. He would plunge into the pool, coming out on the other side, where he would conquer their world for his own. He would become the king of a second universe. They would learn to fear the name of Shoxip as their word crumbled around them. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and saw as the other him did the same. They were going to swap worlds with each other it seemed. But he wasn't thinking of that, he was only thinking of the power he would gain within his new kingdom. Maybe another Nui-Stone? He would enjoy having a second, it would make him far more powerful than he could even imagine. The thought made him smile inwardly. He would be beyond comprehension in his strength, and then perhaps find another world, where he would find more. With a grin, the Toa with dreams of power beyond even the Great Spirit's jumped into the silvery pool, quickly sinking to the bottom. But there was nothing there, nothing but disorienting silver liquid. He couldn't find his way out. His power of flame did nothing at all the the dark clutches of the liquid, until his flaming spark of life finally faded away into the dark depths. The other Shoxip stood watching from his side of the pool. He had stopped himself moments before jumping in, when a thought crossed his mind. What if he was unable to fix the damage to that other world, what if all he was doing was letting a twisted version of himself into his world. Could he sentence his own world to ruin for merely the chance to save another? He found that he could not. With a sigh, he walked away from the pool. There was nothing he could do. The other him had leaped into the water, and not shown up in this world, or back in his own. Wherever the dark Shoxip was, Shoxip hoped that his dark counterpart would never again harm anyone again, as he had seen through his own silver pool many times before. The Emerald City of Gold --[/font][*]This was starting to get annoying. He was a Toa of Light, and he can’t even get to one location. Takanuva activated the Olmak and stepped through another dimensional rift.[/font] --[/font] He appeared in a large city. But it couldn’t be just a city. It had to be the center of a kingdom. It had a giant pyramid, or rather, a ziggurat, in what he assumed was the center of the metropolis.[/font] The sight astounded him. He was standing on solid protogold. Slightly underneath, he saw what looked like tiny veins running through in intricate patterns. He bent down and scratched the area. Suddenly, a pool of green appeared, and he heard an eerie moan. He looked at the green. It was almost like a crystal, but it was liquid. [/font]Since when is a crystal a liquid,[/font] he asked himself.[/font] He decided to make his way to the back alleys, and from there, he crept towards the center of the city.[/font] The odd thing was, he couldn’t see any signs of inhabitants.[/font] --[/font] Little did he know that the inhabitants were in their houses. Some looking out of their windows, they were afraid of the intruder.[/font] And then they got the holo-message.[/font] --[/font] Almost to the ancient-looking step pyramid, Takanuva started to grow weary. He felt like something was draining his energy. He almost thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep going. But he pushed on.[/font] He stopped to take a look at the ancient archetecture before him. He was now on one of the main streets, several bio wide. To his right were stone houses, in some of which he saw some movement of shadows. on his left were grass huts, also with movement in them. He looked behind him and noticed that the entire city looked like the sum of millenia of effort, and, what seemed to be the culmination of a very mathematial formula. The distance between the houses and huts, the slope of the road he was on, the angle of adjacent side roads, they all varied, like some sort of equation.[/font] He was almost to the pyramid. This, too, was very precise with its own measurements. As the day progressed, it seemed to an onlooker to follow the sun.[/font] Takanuva looked down and saw the emerald veins [/font]led[/font] to the step pyramid. He led his gaze to just the side of the ziggurat, expecting to see nothing out of place. He was surprised to see that the pyramid glowed with a green aura.[/font] He started up the golden staircase embedded into the side of the colossus, and stopped. Now it didn’t feel as if he was out of energy. In fact, he felt invigorated.[/font] --[/font] At the top of the pyramid, he looked down and saw all of the inhabitants at the bottom, amassed in a crowd, bowing down to him.[/font] “Why do you bow to me,” he asked. “Who do you think I am?”[/font] “My Lord,” said a being, most likely the elder of the village, “You are a light-bearer, and have made your way to the top of the Pyramid of Light.”[/font] The entire crowd gasped when he disappeared in a sudden flash of white.[/font] Takanuva was now in Karda Nui.[/font]

• [*]Alone with the Sea Nerynn, Toa of Light, sat alone on the beach, watching the sun sink beneath the crystal waves. The sea seemed to stretch on forever, rising and falling so calmly and gently, yet it possessed within its twinkling depths power enough to sink the mightiest vessel or erode the greatest mountain. It was a source of great comfort and joy for many, yet there were many more who cursed it and feared it above all things. A hundred years of pleasant seas could move its travellers to deep, emphatic love for its magnificent tides and crashing waves, yet a single day of stormy skies and violent waters could turn the deepest love to sudden fear and unbridled hate. One moment of nature turning against those grand and noble expectations and suddenly, they were different seas. No more were they kind or gentle or calming, nor would they ever be again. From such single instants, reputations built of centuries could crumble away, lost in an ocean of judgement and indignation. No good deed could ever restore what was lost, and even though great joy and happiness far in excess of the original pain may result from it, still forgiveness would not come. It was not enough that Nerynn had never hurt a single living creature since that day. It was not enough that he vowed to rebuild all that was lost in the battles and the war. Should the Great Spirit himself descend and approve his choice, that would not be enough. A Toa's code is simple. They do not kill. He had broken it only once, but the effects were felt the universe over. In the aftermath, every Toa and every Turaga had scorned him, branded him outcast. Many of them he had considered friends. He had given aid to all those who needed it, protected countless people from terrible threats. But by a single action he was lost to them all. So here he was, alone on a tiny island with no company but the sea. He stared at it intently, imagining each splinter of light, each fraction of a reflection, was a possible life where things were different. A life where he was not outcast. A life where he had chosen to imprison rather than kill Teridax. A life where the Mask of Light had never come to him at all. But in the end, reality was as it was. When Nerynn had seen the full machinations of Teridax's plan, he knew he had no choice. The Makuta could never be imprisoned nor dissuaded from his course. So, when the opportunity had presented itself, he had taken it. He knew with a certainty he could not explain that what he had done was right. He knew, also, that it had been the will of the Great Spirit. Nerynn had saved the life of the Great Spirit and spared the universe from a terrible, unfathomable darkness. If even the first part of the plan had come to be, doom would surely have followed. The final glimmers of light vanished, leaving only the gentle sound of the waves and the spray as they collided softly against the shore. Nerynn curled up on the sand, content with his own satisfaction. In many ways, this was better. He did not need to explain or justify himself to his fellow Toa, nor suffer their glares and whispers and accusations behind his back. He was alone with the sea. The endless, ever-changing ocean of infinite possibilities. That was all he could ever need. -------[*]Ruin “We’ve done it all wrong, Orkham.” The being that was once an emerald-clad Toa looked over to him with tired, red eyes, as if grateful for having a distraction from the scene before them. “Did the great spirit really mean for us to be Toa?” Nuhrii continued, shaking his head with slow remorse as he did. “If he did, could he have seen it all coming?” “Our actions are our own, Nuhrii.” Orkham quietly muttered, but that was a hard jab at Nuhrii’s hart. Our own. A dozen images flashed through his head, and he grimaced hard. Was it all their own doing? His own doing? “Is this where our destiny truly is?” Nuhrii was choked up at the base of his throat. He had no reflection near enough to look upon himself. Perhaps that was for the best. Instead he only looked at his hands, once the hands of a crafter. Then the hands of a hero. Now the hands of a monster. “Matoran bodies still lay dead in Po-Metru. We could not prevent it. More lie in the flooded depths of this chasm, alongside the dust that was once our sixth brother.” Orkham had no real response, and Nuhrii wasn’t truly looking for one. He only gazed out down into the dark depths ahead of them, clenching his fists as images flashed by in his mind. The massacre at the assembler’s village would never leave him, not until the day he died. Neither would thoughts of Ehrye, hit by spinner after spinner until his very body crumbled to dust. He was the first Nuhrii led to death. How many more would follow the same path? At this point, Orkham was the only one Nuhrii truly still had to lead anyway. In the lowest depths of the ruined archives, Tehutti sat with his great hammer, awaiting the slightest indication of an oncoming horde. He couldn’t speak Matoran anymore. Vhisola still could, though all she did was ramble madly as she wandered the shattered exhibits. Ahkmou was silent, though he most like had a great grasp of his mind than the other two. He wandered off alone most of the time, probably looking for Visorak to hunt. “You can’t give up hope.” That voice wasn’t Orkham’s, it was Pouks. The deformed little figure hopped up to where the two former heroes stood, his voice weak from recent wounds. Nuhrii laughed. A cold, hollow, humourless laugh. He turned on the Rahaga, shaking his head, and then turned from bitter remorse to a flicker of rage. “Look at me!” Pouks did. All three knew what he saw. Nuhrii was no longer a Toa. He was no longer a hero. He couldn’t even claim to being a defender of the sleeping Matoran anymore, for only most of them lay safe in the archives beneath, and most was not good enough for Nuhrii.. He was Hordika. “Hope...what do I have left to hope for?” -------[*]Frosting ••••• Vezon fell through the dimensional hole. Instead of gracefully planting his feet into the snow, he face-planted into it. He immediately began to slurp it up. Then he realized that it wasn’t snow, it was... sweet. Smooth. Even though he had no idea what it was, he kept slurping away. Then, once he had been sufficiently filled, the half-Skakdi stood and looked around himself. There was still plenty of the stuff, covering the mountains like it really was snow. The mountain itself, which he could feel now that he had eaten quite a bit of the substance, was squishy and porous. Shrugging, he dug some up, and popped it into his mouth. Again, sweet. Squishy. Delicious. He licked his lips and began trudging forth. He seemed to be in some kind of land of food... that looked exactly like Mt. Ihu. Interesting. The squishy white substance came down from the sky in little drops, coating everything. It was certainly stickier than snow, aside from being extremely delicious. Oh, there was Ko-Koro. Maybe the Matoran there could explain the odd weather. He liked it, but it would take forever to lick himself clean once he got out of it. When he got to the village, he saw the citizens going about their work... and they were all brown, as he saw if one scraped off the sticky substance. He walked up and, not saying anything, bit the head off one. Ignoring the ensuing panic, Vezon leaned against a red and white striped pole. Sweet, crunchy, with a little spice. This was definitely an interesting universe. He wondered what he would taste like, if he met himself. Shrugging, he strolled right on down the mountain, ignoring the screams and attacks. After all, the spears were made of something that broke rather easily and tasted quite delicious. The points were sharp, though they seemed to just be a hard version of the sticky stuff. Soon, he was on the Mangai. It was tightly packed, but once he hit it enough, the substance was very crumbly and bitter. Yet, it tasted good. Shrugging again, he continued. When he reached the river of lava... he dove in. Five seconds later, he was out of it, screaming in agony. His face, tongue, eyes, and everything else burned. Whatever it was spicy. Good, but spicy. This was a very strange dimension. Shrugging once more, he continued trekking on his merry way, tears still pouring from happiness and utter pain. ------[*]Fallen Brother His claws catching the Dark Hunter’s tools in a swipe, Onua lunged forward, pushing the heavy mercenary further into the crowd battling around them. The Toa of Earth threw his elbow into the Hunter’s chest, whom rolled onto the ground, winded by the Pakari- aided blow. A kick of Po-Metru dirt momentarily blinded him, but his acute senses allowed Onua to lash out with a kick. The satisfying feeling of a chestplate being kicked in, he thought as he gained the upper hand once more. The Hunter’s raw strength piled into him, and Onua went flying at a statue. Snagging his claws into the stone, he returned his opponent’s force, flying back at him. Enraged and in the heat of battle, the Toa of Earth allowed the momentum to be his excuse to slash his enemy’s face. He leapt off, to the ground, and so the blunt battle between the two continued. He absorbed each crushing punch that made contact with his chipped and dented armor, but not even his Pakari would help Onua overcome the blow that bothered him for millennia. Even if this fight was won, he had still lost the ultimate battle. The war that raged around him did not matter nearly as much as the argument years before. So many disasters could’ve been avoided if we’d just listened to Tahu, Onua told himself time and time again. I might be a key fighter, but they could’ve still won this war without me, or what others remain. It was a mistake, attempting to leave Karda Nui with the Av-Matoran when the storms started. Lewa was the one who rallied for it, and he died as the result; there was not a day when Onua wish he sided with Tahu and Kopaka, no hour in which bitter regret didn’t plague his being. Sure, the remaining five of them were legendary in stopping the League of Six Kingdoms, but it was not worth the death of the high spirited Toa of Air, nor Helryx’s rage upon hearing they defied orders. The Toa Mata aren’t the same without the six of us. Even despite telling himself it was an accident, the Toa of Earth couldn’t brush the dirt off his conscious from the recent disaster that led to Lhikan’s and Nidhiki’s deaths. Another reminder we aren’t meant to be here. Our actions could’ve been averted with our absence. The Dark Hunter tripped over him as Onua ducked under his charge. He ripped open a chasm, sending his enemy deep into the earth, but the Hunter dug his tools deep into the walls. Evading elemental attacks, he climbed out with a smirk, as to tell the earth Toa he would have to be better than that to beat him. The sounds of battle had taken much out of him. His acute senses let him hear the sharp clang of blade on blade, the cannon blast, punctuated cries of his brothers and sisters as they fought around him. The brightness of the sunny canyon in which the battle was fought hurt his eyes- he was an earth dweller, not an open fighter. Onua was not outclassed, but confidence was the key. It was who finished with the most powerful blow, not who started, they both knew, and in that furious clash, Onua had let millennia catch up with him. No matter what happened, he knew which way this fight was going. Allowing the Dark Hunter the final blow, the Toa of Earth slipped into a sleep that he wish he took long ago. -------[*]Arrival A cylindrical object washed upon a deserted shore. Despite the signs that it had been adrift for many years, its hull gleamed a bright silver in the cheery sunlight. A few birds darted from their trees, curious as to what the new arrival was. One in particular was especially daring, and settled itself upon the strange object. After a moment of deliberation, its head ducked down in a pecking motion, making a considerable noise on impact. The sound rang throughout the air, a signal to all that lived on the island that its heroes had finally arri- Something inside the canister began screaming, initially out of frustration and eventually out of simple rage. The birds, startled by loud noise, retreated back to their trees to observe from a safer distance. After a few minutes, the voice fell silent. The beach seemed strangely quiet in its absence, as if everything on it was waiting with bated breath for what would happen next. They didn’t have to wait long. Blows began to sound out from the canister, with each growing increasingly louder as whatever was trapped inside grew more desperate to be free. The bangs and crashes unnerved the Rahi; they were accustomed to the peaceful sounds of the island, and this strange object and whatever creature it contained had shattered that peace. Suddenly, a hand burst through the side of the canister. Crimson blood ran down its length, and its owner howled in pain. Flames began to escape from the canister, somehow in response to the creature inside. The nearby Rahi all fled, wanting nothing to do with this strange monster that could create fire in response to being injured. Even in their primitive minds, they had plans that didn’t involve being roasted alive because their curiosity got the better of them. Eventually, the creature worked its way out of its prison. It stood tall, its crimson and orange body covered in numerous wounds and of unmistakably masculine design. In its eyes was the rage of a savage animal intent on destroying anything and everything that crossed its path. Gripped tightly in its right hand was a blade seemingly composed of fire, the flames flickering in a way that made it seem like they craved for destruction. The being looked down at his sword, as if hearing the voice of his weapon and its cry for devastation. Slowly, the sword was pointed at the nearby forest. The trees themselves seemed to shy away from the spectacle, as if they knew what was about to happen and wished to somehow wished to escape their fate. Unfortunately, they had no chance for escape; a pillar of fire quickly shot out from the sword and began to consume everything that stood before the being of fire and destruction. And then the creature screamed. It screamed and screamed and screamed. It screamed out of rage, despair, frustration, loneliness, and finally as a challenge to the rest of the island. “Just try to destroy me as well,” its scream seemed to say. It had nothing save the impulse to destroy, the desire to burn. It was meant to be one of the saviors of the island, tasked with the duty of liberating the villagers from an oppressive dark force. Instead, it was a monster. The Toa of Fire had finally arrived. -------[*]Vezon's Utopia Vezon was just about as happy as he ever could be. For one thing, he was flying through a void. Voids always excited him. They were there, but yet they weren't really anywhere. Plus, they were just lovely little things. Vworp, there's a void, then vworp again, you're not there anymore. Easy transport. For another, he had a mask attached to his face. To be honest, he was kind of missing a mask stuck to his face. The Ignika had been there for a while, but then it got ripped away, then he got this lovely Olmak, which he liked because he could actually do something with it. The Ignika just sat there doing nothing. He couldn't finish thinking up and listing out what all he liked about flying between two dimensions and two eternities when, all of a sudden, he had reached the other side, plopping down unreasonably hard upon what looked at first glance to be soft and lush grass. A swarm of fireflyers rushed out around him, surrounding his face. To Vezon's surprise, every individual fireflyer featured none other than his smiling face. "Ooh, this is a big'n. Nice and thick for the barbecue," one said. "Yeah, but he's got that thing in his head. Looks like a cookie," another chimed in. "I wonder if it's a lemon." "I like pancakes," muttered another. "'Scuse me, little ones, but I don't suppose you're fans? Just remember that autographs are five widgets each," Vezon said. "Oh, except for Vezok's spine. That I would pay you to let me sign." "It speaks!" "You mean it's alive?" "Are we going to have pancakes or not?" The swarm of Vezon fireflyers was in disarray. Mentally discombobulated as ever, Vezon ambled off into the nearby city. He entered the main street and found that he fit right in, for every single living thing, regardless of species, was in his image. Everywhere he looked, there were copies of his visage. Vezon worked his way to the town center, where a disorienting and downright bizarre sculpture dominated the foreground. Though Vezon was insane, he was still cunning, albeit in a twisted way. Using his Olmak powers, he opened a portal and sucked away the statue. All of the Vezons in the city focused their attention on this newcomer and his powerful abilities. This was the beginning of something excellent. *** "What is it?" Jaller asked. "I have no idea," Nuparu responded. "It looks like ... well, I don't know what it looks like, really." Jaller nodded. "It kind of looks like something that Vezon would make if he had a bunch of free time," he said after a while. Nuparu's eyes got narrower as he smirked slightly. "Somehow, I think you may be right." Behind them, unheard and unseen, a group of fireflyers swarmed out of a dimensional hole, one of them muttering something about pancakes. *** Vezon could get used to this. He had successfully convinced the inhabitants of the city to let him become their ruler, as he had abilities no one else did. He became their ruler years ago, and every day since then had been filled with sitting on his opulent but chaotic-looking throne, ordering his subjects around incoherently, and occasionally sucking up things or subjects in order to send them off into another dimension. The first living thing he did that in his rule was to those unruly fireflyers, and its novelty hadn't yet worn off. He had indeed gotten used to it, but somewhere within the warped and twisted corridors of his mind, he decided that he'd never grow tired of it. And if he did, he was only a wish away from the next universe over.

• [*]The Tree The day had been long for Toa Macku. The city around her lay in rubble with shards of what were once magnificent statues scattered among the dirt, dust and spider webs. The horde of venomous spiders had proved to be formidable for her team. Hafu and Kapura had gone missing early in the morning. They were supposed to scout the area and meet back with the team two hours later on the dot. Tamaru was found in a cocoon; infected by the foul beasts. It was too late for him; it was well known that there was no cure for a victim once poisoned. The effects seemed harsh and grim. Once the poison entered a creature’s system, their appearance would change drastically. Who knew what would come from it all? A third arm, a loss of a head or perhaps a new strange power would appear. Tamaru had shifted into an arachnid-like rahi. He had six legs and he could no longer speak Agori, though his memories seemed to remain. Kopeke and Taipu were long gone. They had fled the island to seek help from other toa from all corners of the universe. The toa had not heard anything from them ever since they left weeks ago. Kopeke had traveled north to seek help from the sacred realm of Karzahni which was filled with towering cities that gleamed in the light of the three suns. Taipu had traveled south towards the rustic country side of towns such as Metru Nui. That left only Macku. Using her elemental powers, she created a tree that grew rapidly into a watch tower. The more the green toa focused, the higher and more grand the tree became. Red leaves and pink blossoms began to flourish. Eventually new smaller trees spread around the area. The growing bark twisted and turned into knots and spirals. Trees began to merge in fantastic shapes and sizes with branches spreading across the city like soft lightning. It had taken quite some time to gather enough energy to do all of this, but the results were worth the effort. Macku looked down at the red stone artifact she had sought after for years. Its glow radiated softly. It gave her strength to press forward and continue her dying battle. Yes, Macku was certain the dark chapter of the Fikou invasion would soon end in New Atero. Looking over her work, she was sure what she created would become a new home, a sanctuary and a beacon of hope to all who gazed upon its glory; for this was the only plant in existence that could repel the vicious horde. ------[*]His to Control “You don’t like being beaten.” Teridax grimaced, blood trickling down the side of his mouth and down to his chin. “I would think that is obvious.” He need not open his eyes; he couldfeel the Makuta standing before him through empty air. He didn’t even bother to stand. If he be killed, that was one fewer life about which to worry. The strange Makuta’s emotional signature shifted into a half-sardonic smile. With that smile came a sense of familiarity — a mystery, and Teridax did enjoy mysteries. “Even the most powerful may fail.” Teridax noted without hesitation a ring in the stranger’s tone. “Except you?” he hazarded. He could feel the other’s smile widen. “Indeed.” “What do you want?” The air turned cold. Teridax opened his eyes; the Makuta standing before him made no threatening moves, only stood before Teridax with an air of superiority and, surprisingly, neediness. His Kanohi was gold, its form — two prongs curving out and in, one on each side of the mouth; the forehead sloped in and back; the heavy brow — well engrained in Teridax’s mind. Small wonder the other Makuta’s presence radiated such energy. “I would think you had ascertained the reasons for my visit by now,” said the Makuta. Teridax shrugged, standing slowly. His muscles ached. More presences had entered his field of detection, distant but instantly recognizable. “You need me,” he said. The stranger must have also noticed the new presences, for his nod was curt. Teridax focused. “You want me to come with you.” Again the stranger nodded. “You have big plans.” Teridax took his turn to smile at the thoughts swirling about the outer shell of the stranger’s mind. The other Makuta didn’t bother to conceal them; if anything, he thrust them at Teridax in lieu of conversation. Thrust so hard, in fact, that the thoughts entered Teridax’s own mind... He saw a world where the Matoran Universe was run by the Brotherhood of Makuta. The image changed — now the Matoran Universe was dead, but a lone Makuta known as Icarax still survived somewhere... A flash, and a lush green vista blossomed before him, but underneath the flora rested a source of indefatigable corruption. With each image came a hint of information being impressed upon his mind. And then a grand panorama of images played out before him. A swirling vortex of energy represented space-time. Within this vortex, universes were born and universes died. All, thanks to his power, were open. They were his to control, to enter, to take from— —and then he was pulled from the vision. The invading identities were drawing near; the Makuta before Teridax canted his head in obvious question. “I will come,” said Teridax. “But first, to answer a suspicion of mine... your name?” “In due time,” said the Makuta, and Teridax noted how the stranger’s tones echoed his own. A portal opened between the two Makuta, like a drain plug had been pulled from the air. The Makuta gestured Teridax through and followed himself. The portal closed without theatrics. * * * The first one to enter the room, upon his own insistence, was Vakama. He leapt through the doorway with his Kanoka disk launcher hefted and Mask of Concealment activated; he swung his launcher from one corner of the room to the other and, upon finding the room empty, deactivated his Kanohi and called to the other Toa Metru, “It’s empty.” Disgust was evident in his voice. As the other Toa Metru entered, cursing their bad luck, Nokama placed a hand on Vakama’s shoulder. “We’ll find Makuta,” she assured him. Vakama shook her off. ------[*]Mirror I stared into his eyes and he stared back. Emerald eyes glowed behind his virescent Noble Kadin. He was me; but he wasn't; yet he was. It was as if I was peering at the surface of a still pond, into the depths of a world where everything is inverted. Here in my world, in my universe, I am a scholar, a chronicler, and a storyteller. I am but a simple Matoran living a simple life of simple joys. In his universe, where it is the Matoran who command the elements, he wielded his powers of The Green with a fist of hardwood. He was a ruthless tyrant who ruled over his world; suppressor of freedom, pitiless enslaver, hater and destroyer of all knowledge among the common people. He was devious and cunning, two things I was not; and he was most certainly evil, a trait to which I am proud to lay no claim. He admired his new surroundings with surprise, wonder . . . and rapacity. Though his eyes glowed with the same hue as my own, they gleamed with an eager malevolance and an iniquitous joy at the prospects before him. "A whole new world to conquer," he sibilated. "When that fool appeared with that Olmak, I thought it was but another mad scheme of deposition. Mad as it was, it took his madness to show me what has been right beneath my Kanohi all these many years. . . . I have grown weary of ruling a universe with nothing but senseless rebellions to quell beneath my heel. The life of an absolute is dull, at best. But I should have seen it sooner! Why limit my kingdom to one universe--when I could control them all?" "Are you insane?" He smiled at me. It was the tenuous smile of a crack in the earth, a deceptive crack that you know will any moment yawn into an abyss of endless shadow any engulf you; and in spite of this certainty, you do not flee, for their is an inexplicable beauty of a macabre tenor to the crack, an enthralled awe awaiting the opening of its sublime mouth. "You should know full well that--we--are quite insane." "You can't possibly rule two universes!" "That batty Turaga--for your sake I hope he exists not in this universe--was right about one thing: I--excuse me, we­--can do anything we put our minds to. I do not intend to rule two universes at all . . . but far more." He cocked his head at me. "You are me, are you not? I am you. We are . . . one. We should work together. You could join me . . . together we could be absolute across all the dimensions! You and I could become far more than mere Matoran. We could transcend the Great Beings themselves." I was not going to listen to another word of this. I screamed "Never!" and unsheathed my blade and lunged. The next thing I knew I was hanging upside down, entangled in vines. "So you are not me, after all. . . . A pity. This, then, is good-bye. I have a universe to conquer." And then he was gone. I did not think as I freed myself from my bonds. Perhaps I had already resigned myself to my unruly task. Like it or not . . . I knew that I was the only one who could stop myself. But one question did press at the corners of my mind: Which of us was the real Nuile? ------[*]The Darkness Has Won Balta stumbled backwards, alarmed. This was no Voya Nui, nor even the Southern Continent. It was…a city, like the legendary Metru Nui Turaga Jovan had spoken of. Skyscrapers cast towering shadows upon the ground, which was cold and hard. Yet at the same time it seemed almost…alive, like it had many, many years ago. Before the Great Cataclysm, when he had still been just a regular Matoran. While, not regular; no Matoran who had gone through Karzahni was regular. But his past was not what bothered the Ta-Matoran. It was where he was now, and what had happened to him just a few moments ago, that was more troubling. When the Toa Inika cut the stone cord, Voya Nui had gone rocketing back to its rightful place in the Southern Continent. Matoran had piled out of hiding, eager to see their old home. Everything had been fine for a few months, until today when Balta went out in the newly established lava fields. He was taking a break on the fringes when a strange being reminiscent of a Piraka materialized in front of him and grabbed hold of his arm. The next thing he remembered was darkness. As Balta sifted through these memories, he noticed something odd. There was no one on the streets of this magnificent metropolis. Not a rahi sang in the air, not a Toa walked the roads. A piece of paper drifted by on the light breeze, and Balta caught hold of it. A strange message was inscribed on the papyrus-like substance: Meet tonight at the base of the Coliseum. A band of rebels will be there; Turaga Ahkmou has sent orders to eradicate them. The Coliseum! Before his death, Jovan had spoken of such a place. It was supposedly a pillar of good, a veritable palace of heroism. From the Coliseum the Toa-Dark Hunter War had been fought. Balta knew he had to get there. Hours later, the wandering Matoran found a building that matched his old Turaga’s description. With eyes long used to assessing hiding places and caves, Balta spotted a dark figure disappearing into an alley. He ran after it, deflector blades at the ready. As he entered the shadows, Balta was roughly grabbed and pressed against the Coliseum wall. “What are you doing here?” hissed a voice. “You aren’t from this place, are you? Whose side are you on?” “From…other…universe…” he gasped. “Southern Continent, warrior. Where am I?” The strangling hand retracted. “Another universe, eh? What’s it like there? Who controls it?” “The Great Spirit, of course,” Balta responded, “except he’s asleep right now. Like he has been for the past, oh, thousand years?” “So,” the being mused quietly, “in your universe, the darkness has not already won.” [*]Counterparts Fear. That was probably an accurate description of what Darque Persona was feeling right now. He wasn't really accustomed to fear; to be fair, not much could scare him. But now, as he watched an alternate version of himself prepare to experiment on him, he felt scared. Under normal circumstances, Darque would have turned into sand and escaped by now, but he was dealing with someone who knew his powers intimately. Other than having opposed elements, their powers were the same, and so Lyght had placed a power restraining band around his head. This made Darque more worried. Not that he would let himself show it. No, he had to play it cool; not let his counterpart, known as Lyght Spiritus, believe he had the upper hand. "This has been a most fortunate day," Lyght said. "Already I have managed to find and capture and alternate version of myself whose powers oppose my own, and then I acquired the final piece of my device. He was pompous. Darque didn't like that. "Now, I can harness your power and meld it with my own to gain supreme power." Lyght leaned over Darque's tied down form. "And all because of your issues with Olmak Anomalies." "Look, they're not my issues," Darque corrected. "I just contributed. I didn't know that my powers and his would be able to make a portal to an alternate multiverse." Lyght paused. "His power?" he queried. "Who is-" The large windows exploded and heat instantly filled the room. Lyght formed a barrier of white snad to protect himself. When he dispersed it, a silhouette was standing in the frame, flames burning brightly behind him. "You left me behind," the silhouette said, stepping off the the window. The Toa had gold and red armour and a fused mask of invisibility and shielding. "Vanus," Darque said with a hint of relief. "Took your time." "Ah," Lyght said. "You must be your multiverse's counterpart of our Sunakav." "Sunakav?" Vanus asked, before he was hit square in the chest with a blast of ice. As it froze his torso, another Toa dropped down to confront him. He looked almost exactly the same as Vanus, but his armour consisted of deep and light blues. He carried twin scythes coated in a thin layer of frost and wore a manical grin across his mask. Vanus raised his heat and melted off the ice before drawing his twin fire greatswords. "This is going to be fun!" Sunakav cried before he charged. Lyght turned back to his subject. "That deals with your friend. I don't think that either of them can win that fight. They should be perfectly matched against each other." He picked up a remote. "Now, back to the matter of extracting your essence." "I really don't see how this is a good idea," Darque responed. "I need your essence to become more powerful. It's as simple as that." "Yeah, but what if I rebel inside you? I'm not very cooperative." "I'm going to destroy your consciousness in the process." "You really thought of everything." "I try." "I almost feel proud of myself." Suddenly, Lyght was knocked down by another explosion. Vanus ran to Darque and took the band off his head. Feeling empowered, Darque turned to sand and shifted out of his bindings. "How did you beat Sunakav?" Darque asked. "I didn't. I just threw him through a wall and slowed him down. Come on. We need to find an Olmak Anomaly and get back to our multiverse." "How?" "I have no idea." And they ran out of the lab. -------[*]The Dark Spirit An almost palpable sense of gloom hung over the city of Metru Nui. Ten years and a day had passed since the rising of Teridax to his status as the overlord of the universe, and now, with the dark Makuta’s antidermis coiled around the Core Processor with no intention of letting go, the universe itself hung under perpetual gloom. Teridax’s dark laughter seemed to echo through the universe, a thin breeze on the wind by the time it reached Metru Nui. Teridax was growing discontent with the world he ruled. Every single one of the other beings in the universe was so far below him and lacked all of his power. He could kill them as easily as he could a fly by simply cutting off their source of air, he could drag them into nothingness with a single touch of his massive power… and yet none of it mattered. None of these beings had anyone who could hope to destroy him, and he wanted the challenges, he craved them. And yet he’d made it so no being could ever challenge him again, thus rendering him immune to all dangers, every one of the threats that his master plan had so expertly maneuvered. His enemies could try to fight him, but he could simply destroy them. There was no challenge in that. Makuta sighed, and his sigh reverberated through the Matoran Universe. The more he learned to control Mata Nui’s massive robotic body, the more artificial this world within him seemed, the inhabitants nothing more than lifeless robots to him. There had to be other worlds out there teeming with life. But Teridax knew he would never leave this planet of endless sea. Going out into the unknown was far too risky. He’d thought about leaving this world by the Red Star years ago, but he did not- could not- know what went on beyond. Teridax was too shrewd to risk losing control of his domain like this. He needed to remain in control, and going out into the unknown was a sure way to lose what he already had. Another dreary day was beginning below, with the Matoran awaking to their hundreds of daily chores to maintain Teridax’s massive body. Teridax smiled slightly. He had to admire the Matoran of Metru Nui for their (compelled) diligence. Teridax sighed again. He would never leave the Matoran Universe. He was as much a prisoner within this massive robotic body as the Matoran below were.

- 55555

A little too long and a little too late for this round. I'm happy with it though, and I'm glad I wrote it.

Three Ta-Matoran had set forth, patrolling their borders, spears in hand. A marching song they sang, as on their way they went.In the heat and in the smokeWhere lava flowed and bubbles brokeLhii crested the scarlet waveHe the maddest brink would braveAs they ended this verse and began the next, a yellow shape moved between the charred trees. Nothing walked in this forest, save the Rahi and their master. An order was given, the Matoran snapped into positon, forming a triangle in an attempt at defense.Then a figure stepped from the burnt trunks of the trees. His Pakari was scarred, and his hands were blackened with fire. A lava board was slung on his back, and in his eyes was a stalwart flame."Do you know who I am?" the lone figure said."We have heard the legends, but we also heard you were dead," Kapura returned."That tale was no finished one, for you see me before you," the strange Matoran said."It is also said, stranger, that the creatures of Makuta roam this forest, with their claws and with their teeth. How is it you walk here, with only a lava board and your black hands?""Take me to your leader, he will understand."They set off through the smoldering wood, their eyes wide and their spears unsteady. He walked before them, over the bridge and through the gates, into the Koro. As he entered the Matoran gasped and spoke among themselves. The legends had long been told of Lhii's prowess, heroism, and death. Their shock crystalized into joy and clamor."Lhii! Lhii! Alive and free!"The bright eyes smiled behind the Mask of Strength."Lhii! Lhii! Alive and free!"Arms were raised in the air, the guards clanged their spears on their shields, the yellow feet walked on."Lhii! Lhii! Alive and free!"A Matoran of ice in the crowd stood petrified, shocked to his core by the coming of this being. His name was Matoro, and he knew many things unknown to the people of Ta-Koro.He ran, with all the speed at his command, to the home of Vakama, Turaga of Fire and inventor of Lhii.Words were spoken, few and fell, Vakama brushed his hand over his Kanohi. He seized his staff, and handed Matoro a throwing disc. He strode into the central square, Matoro following a step behind."Lhii! Lhii! Alive and free!"Vakama's eyes narrowed as the cry met his ears, he knew whose work this was, he knew who lay behind the yellow Pakari."Lhii! Lhii! Alive and free!""Stop!" Vakama cried, striking the paving stones with his staff.A sudden silence descended, and fear wafted among the Matoran like a wisp of poisonous fumes."This one you see before you is not Lhii, I saw Lhii die with my own eyes, many years ago," the Turaga said, quietly but in a carrying voice.The yellow figure smiled. The rusted scars on his Kanohi seemed to grow and spread, covering his shoulders, his chest, and soon his entire body. The eyes changed from the pure flame to a smoldering brilliance. He seemed to rise off the ground slightly,"I never expected my mask would to fool the creator of the persona. No one would believe in the coming of a figment of their imagination; correct Turaga?"The Matoran fell back, muffled cries filled the walls."Nor one who saw him die."The corroded figure laughed, first a foreboding rumble, rising to a shattering crescendo."Do you not see who you have as a leader, slaves of Mata Nui? One who lies not only for his own ends, but for his own enjoyment. Inventing tales, legends, with which to fool his own followers. He lies yet, as he lies about the coming of Toa, and your future."The dark figure levitated into the air, then disappeared, and silence descended.The Matoran gazed at the Turaga in front of them, who had led them since before they could remember. He hung his head.Makuta had won that day.

- 55555

2, 8 and 9 were my favorites of these.- 55555

It came down to a choice between 1, 3 and 7. I went with 7, Clairvoyance. I liked the concept of the visions with no context, and that they were so vivid she lost track of what was a vision and what wasn't.- 55555

1. Are we allowed to use lyrics, like part of a songfic?2. If so, do the lyrics count in the word count?

Question: Would I be allowed to link all 6 of my COT entries? Use the same characters, premise, plot, as if they were chapters in a story?

Member Name: 55555Theme: VisionsWordcount: 595Story: I am Ringatoi, a Ko-Matoran and an artist. I have spent hour after hour in the burning of the twin suns, painstakingly creating art in Mata Nui's honor. The sand burned under my feet, my tools shone with sweat and sunshine. I liked to think that the suns were his eyes looking down on me appraising and (I imagined) approving of my efforts.We of ice are not an artistic people as a rule. We are given to the contemplation and the evaluation that often accompanies the mindset of creative Matoran, but instead we turn our talents to a more introspective work, that of prophecy.And then, it hit me.I don't know if I fell to my knees, it felt more as though I fell from the world, or flew upward from it.It was a view from on high, Metru Nui lay in ruins, strange webs graced the half fallen towers. A haze lay over the land, concealing the streets, but one could still make out the slight movement of arachnid beings. I examined it in a strangely detached manner, noting each element, purposefully dedicating each tone and line to memory.Then the it disappeared, and was replaced by a vision of a new land. Here there was only one sun, and it shone more brightly than any sun of Metru Nui. Partially silhouetted by the rising sun was a fleet of airships, their prows pointing towards the virgin sands.Another image became apparent, a low view of a council at a great Kini, six Turaga and many Matoran. If this island had any dangers in store for these villagers, they must face it alone, unaided by the powers of Toa. I looked among the Matoran, and I saw familiar faces. Eyrhe, Tama, Punga, and the infamous Takua. But where was Nuju? Or for that matter, where was I? Perhaps we did not survive the coming of the Webs.The vision flashed once more. I saw a gathering of Matoran, Turaga and... six Toa? Written above them, in letters of fire, were the names Tahu, Kopaka, Lewa, Gali, Pohatu and Onua. I carefully memorized the names and the imagery, the scene backlit by the westering sun, the jungle trees and the high mountains on the horizon..Then suddenly the blackness rose up again, and feeling returned to my limbs. I became aware of my surroundings, I was still in Ko-Metru, and nearly home.I got to my feet quickly and sprinted into my abode, grabbing my brushes and containers of paint, then hurrying to the Tower of Prophecies.I walked with my eyes forward, trying to keep the images sharp in my mind, bumping into people as I made for the ground floor of the Tower.I reached my destination, the bluish white wall of the tower spread invitingly before me. I set down my paints, wet my brush, and made the first stroke.The curving lines of the great Webs, the destruction of the Knowledge Towers and the Sculpture fields...Matoran strode by, I was only dimly aware of their exclamations. First angry, then awed as the pictures took form.The airships black against the sun, the lush forests and bright waters of the new island... Each Matoran I had seen at the gathering, the six strange Turaga, the tall spires of the Kini... And finally the arrival of the Toa, the hopes of the Matoran realized...I took a white brush and with a flick of my wrist, made the symbol of Mata Nui at the top. My work was done.

Gentlemen, be advised that a five hundred word story can be written in fewer than 20 minutes. - 55555

Entry title: Mirrors & MirrorsMember name: 55555Entry, a bit large to direct linkArt medium: Computer/Traditional ArtOther links: NoneArtist comments: Based on the scene from the Ninjago TV show where the Ninjas fight skeleton shadows with their shadows. In this each mirror is basically it's own battle, and the Ninjas must keep track of all of them to destroy the Skulkin.- 55555

Hooray! Good work on the hand, it has fingers and even an opposable thumb.KUTGW!- 55555

Entry title: Keeper Of The KeyMember name: 55555ThumbnailArt medium: Computer ArtOther links: TopicArtist comments: The Atlantean Shark Guardian pursues one of the intrepid seekers of the lost realm. Maybe he just wants to play.- 55555

Continuing in it's glorious two year tradition

... design. this has worked well ...

5x5, I am disappoint.Either way, yes, this is an awesome concept and I look forward to seeing (and purchasing) the winning design.

Each of these was written in under twenty minutes as part of a game I've been playing recently with Velox, Kakaru and a bunch of other dudes.The Forest:Not just any forest, THE Forest. The definite article, it stands alone, separate and above all the other forests of the world both figuratively and literally. An immortal place in a mortal world. I could wax eloquent upon the noises or lack thereof, as well as the subtleties of the light or great trunks of the trees, but I have never been there, nor met anyone who has.Which is not to say no one has been there, many have.The Forest stands, as it will ever stand, upon a strangely shaped irregularity of the land, seemingly unreachable by ordinary means. This outcropping (though what it originally cropped out of I would never venture to guess) seems to slowly drift around the world, as a stranger drifts in an unfamiliar town; ill at ease, wandering, and not entirely welcome.In my studies of The Forest I have sought to chart this drift, to find some rhyme or reason, some pattern that I could understand. All the things one might think of (and one, I, did) such as wind, altitude, waterways, geological or environmental consistencies, led to naught. After many, many years however, I did find a pattern, once I had discarded all the probable options and focused my efforts on the improbable.Seven years after the forest was seen in each of these places, something of great importance occurred. Sometimes good things, sometimes bad things, but always events of great import and impact.It has just been seen once more, an unusually swift alteration in it position, near the very capital of our world. I must tell all that I know.The Code:31610 01 04383 92 66473 859 93027 75 032000000000...He sat up suddenly, sweaty and entirely wakeful. He lay back down, to try and go back to sleep, to return to the rarity of slumber.Three-One-Six-One-Zero, Zero-One, Zero-Four-Three...He turned on the light and swung his legs over the side of his bed. it revealed a room in a terrible state, clothing of every level of cleanliness mixed together with no semblance of a system. Papers had spilled from the desk next to his bed into the wastebasket, and from there onto the floor. The light was not harsh and yellow, he'd done away with that one long ago on another night much like this, a night not uncommon to him since he began attempting to crack the code. He opened the double windows wide, and the chill night air rushed in, refreshing him.Three-One-Six-One-Zero, Zero...His fist hit the desk unsatisfyingly, the sound muffled in the stacks of paper.What could it mean? There must be a meaning.He had covered all the possible character substitution patterns, then started testing random encryption keys, then more and more wild guesses.So many of these numbers may be meaningless... Merely to distract from the hidden message...Three-One-Six-One...The message might just be a number, meaningless without prior information...He was no rookie at cryptology, nor at long nights. He had worked for The Bureau since he was 16, having attracted their attention even at that age with his unique abilities.The white, bluish light shown on his face, his head drooped falling once more into sleep...Exchange:So many hours, so many days, so many months had led up to this moment, and yet all was not yet set in stone. it has never ceased to amaze me that despite years of preparation, all can be undone in mere moments. The weather, a disease, a misheard digit, or a careless gesture can bring down years of labor and planning.The night was nearly silent in this part of the city, flickering streetlights lit and my headlights revealed what would naturally have been concealed. Few lights shown in the dirty windows. A light snow was falling.I swung my SUV carefully to a stop parallel to the curb. This was the time, the place, the plan.I looked at the Merchandise stowed in the back seat of the car. I smiled. All would go well, what was I worrying about?The shots shattered everything. The first one or two must have bounced of the windshield, but there were many more than two. The car, the plan, my body were totaled from the merciless barrage.Somehow I retained consciousness, I could still see out of one eye. I knew what I had to do, the Merchandise could not be lost with no reward. In my ankle holster...The car doors had unlocked automatically when I came to a stop. A figure loomed through the shattered, bloodied windshield, silhouetted against the yellow streetlights.I sat up slightly, I knew I had not long to live, whether this figure furthered that cause or not. I clutched the automatic in my hand, thanking Glock mentally for the brilliance of the trigger safety. The door opened, the masked figure pulled me out onto the sidewalk, he put a foot on my chest and levelled his firearm at me.Then he pulled off his balaclava, it was my boss."You broke the plan", I said."This was the plan."I shot him in the face.Fire:It was an early, misty morning. I stood with legions of soldiers in ceremonial dress to greet the new species to our world. I was the Master Of Ceremony's, on dang was it a ceremony. the alien ship looked out of place in the green field they had selected as a landing place. No doubt in the future there would be some kind of statue, or monument here, for it was the dawn of a new era. Or perhaps the ship would stand in this field forever, a testament to this meeting.I kept my face rock solid, as was traditional, and yelled orders at my men, swiveling to the right to flank the ship's exit. This meeting would define our relationship with these extraterriestrials, I was not going to be sloppy. First impressions are important.The doors opened, and our Diplomat stepped forward, a good looking old man clad in his diplomatic regalia.He was the first to die.A swarm of the aliens spilled onto the landscape, and the civilians panicked, running randomly, falling, trampling. They killed as they advanced, running at full speed, one alien jumped each of the people as they reached them.My men stood at attention, motionless. I knew what they were waiting for.They waited on my order. there was more at stake here than one battle, or a few thousand men. This would be war, and not just a war, or a World War, of War of Worlds.Present arms!A thousand clicks of manipulated rifles sounded in unison.Fire!Flight:Spinning through the air. Spiraling through the firmament. The sun caught my eye between the clouds, and swung by.I had done this so long for mere fun that it was difficult to remember this was war.I can feel the air through the stick and the yaw of my craft. I ride the wind. Five feet to my left my wingman movements matched mine. We were in a vertical climb, attaining the altitude we needed for the mission ahead. We had been assigned to escort a flight of heavy bombers. Why only two of us? Too many bombers, too few fighters.Plus I suspect that the higher ups had come to realize the abilities of my friend and I. he'd been a farmer before the war, but he took to the air like a...TAT-TAT-TAT-TATSmall caliber fire ricocheted off my cockpit and fuselage. We kept in perfect formation."Green Beta engage bandits. Repeat, Green Beta engage bandits."This was it.I shoved the stick forward and climbed as my wingman rolled left. I had managed to keep an eye on the bandit. He had the white triangle emblem on both wings.A fellow High Ace. This would be a challenge.He dove into a cloud bank and I followed.Suddenly I remembered the old days, playing tag in the clouds with my dad, before the war...Stuck:The operation had been going well, I controlled all my bodies with my one will. I received the information from my thousand brains, the vision of a thousand eyes. My eyes could only see walls.It had all been a trap. They had lured me here, my army, to conquer and be conquered. A facade of defense, I thought it was unusually weak at the time, set up only to disguise what lay behind. It was a moonlit night, which admittedly was not one I would have chosen, had I that luxury. This operation was one of necessity, I could not wait on the weather, or so I thought. the skies were clear as I flew in my planes and lept simultaneously into the darkness.The fortress was of stone and steel, large and well equipped, but under manned. I assumed this was due to losses they had suffered previously from myself and my few friends. Such a compound is difficult to penetrate, but also difficult to escape from. How was I to know that this was all a setup? That there was no threat to me in this place, as long as I steered clear of it? How had my eyes, my spies, not found this, or my ears heard of this? The secrecy must have been absolute, the precautions many and well executed.I sat down cross-legged on the myriad floors. I knew my fate when I saw it. I had met my match in a thousand minds, my thousand bodies had been defeated.Who would have guess that doors lay underneath every opening? Perhaps "door" is the wrong word, since once closed they would never open.I would sit here until the end, thinking my thoughts.Time:I am Time. The call me Old Father, but I am ageless as death. I close all the coffins. I open all eyes. They have said I'm am relative, I am an illusion, I am like a river. I am like nothing but myself.People speak of not having enough time, or even of possessing too much. Some in prison find it weighs heavily upon them, some elsewhere find it goes all too quickly. Youth to age, age to death.Death is the key to my lock. After death I am no longer relevant, Time itself is past. The petty wastrels, and the mouldering prisoners find that Time is now as a level field. The ocean of Time is stilled.A light flickers and dies, a civilization rises to its zenith, and falls in instant. A match is lit, and lives forever. Languages evolve, stagnate, and re-emerge in a new form. A single molecule of water is immortal in its way, a memory lives on beyond death and love and Time. For memory, life, immortality, all in their way, defy Time. Wars rage across the earth, scars are left, but time accepts all, and obscures all.But for the nonce, my thrall, you are in my keeping and will abide by my laws.Tempus fugitis.Preparation:The future is to me an open secret. I can see and explore the wiles of fate, the results of actions, and trace them to their sources. I can prepare for events that are inevitable, and steer reality from those that are avoidable. I have worked for the cause of good many, many times. Sometimes only a subtle action is needed, sometimes great operations must be executed to avoid disaster. I have once or twice been forced to contact the governments of the world, warning them of a looming dilemma. Both times they failed to heed my tidings. The results were terrible, but the paths were too complex for them to realize I had been right.I could see what would happen, it's the power I have, I don't know why I have it.The many complexities of life are mostly of little import. I see them as a slightly jagged line that, in the end, moves little up or down, with few drastic deviations from the average.But then, on April 21st, 2012, there is a spike. As a level plain is broken by a mountain so is the graph of this world shattered by that day. But it is not the only path, through careful preparation, the world can be moved off this path.My power made clear to me the nature of this catastrophe. The fate of this world came down to one man, a seemingly unimportant soul who lived a quiet life in Alaska. If he were killed the world would spiral into chaos, and evil would triumph for the last time.I must train myself. I must warn him. I must watch him. I must gather aid from those who I can trust. I must disguise his nature and his identity from those he would destroy him. I must prepare.Beacon:"You couldn't have just come into port Sam, not in this fog. You should have looked in sooner," The freindly tavern keeper said as the sailor walked in. The hour was late, the oil lamps had been lit, and all but the most inebriated had long since departed.The sailor walked up to the counter, and sat down wearily., "That's just what we've done, the nearest thing I've ever seen.""I'll tell you the tale."---A mist lay over the shore, so heavily that it was impossible to see the stern of the ship from the mainmast. The seaman in the crows nest couldn't make out the deck two hundred feet below him. the officers were all down below, listening for the sound of breakers on the reefs and rocks, trying to avoid the sound of rending wood.There had once been a lighthouse on the point. For all they knew it had long since been abandoned or destroyed, but the Captain still ordered a look out aloft. He kept his watch well.He constantly scanned from left to right, and right to left, high and low alert to the faintest glimmer in the all encompassing mist.He looked to stern, to starboard, and then, there, in the darkness, was a bright gleam. He called down to the deck below. They knew where they were, they would live to see the dawn.---"So you see, if it hadn't been for that lighthouse, I'd be sleeping with the fishes by now."An odd look came across the landlord's visage."That lighthouse burned down six months ago." Power:I bend over the gasket again. I feel like I've already adjusted this one a dozen times tonight, but it needs tightening again. My wrench, named Orville, is so worn that my fingers are imprinted in the iron handle, but is still solid as ever. I run back to the main control panel, swinging levers to balance the pressure and mentally noting low pressure areas in the system. We need all the power we can get tonight.I reflect, as I slide down the ladders to tighten the gaskets in the lower levels, how strange it is that it should all come down to one night. All this toil could be undone so easily. We are lifting the Spire tonight.Originally we'd planned to raise the Spire in the daylight, but the wind today had been too strong, only dying out after sunset. It had been built on its side, and through the whole process everyone remembered that all could be undone by lifting it erect. The Power Machine is powerful, but unreliable. If the power fails, the Spire falls, and all our labor is undone.I check myself mid-slide down another ladder by locking Orville between the struts, then I frenziedly claw my way upward. An explosion is the last thing you want to hear down here.I get to a catwalk, I have a view of the entire Power Machine.A whole wing bad blown, only eight were left in operation. The steam was already clouding my vision. I would die if I couldn't stop the leak.I ran to one of the main gaskets, swinging Orville into motion, trying to check the flow if not stop it. The gasket was jammed. The thought of sabotage flashes through my panicking mind.It's going to be a bad night.- 55555(And no this wasn't posted on a dare)

I wouldn't mind an extension, but a month seems to long. How about one extra week?- 55555

This all changed as Kakaru walked back to his house on a grey, unusually stormy day, whistling idly as he pulled at the belt from his satchel, easing the pressure and rubbing his neck. As soon as he saw the two cloaked characters standing on his doorstep his stomach churned. It wasn’t their demeanor that upset him: They looked neither menacing nor welcoming. It was the fact that, underneath one of the drawn hoods, two piercing blue eyes bore into his from behind a silver Avohkii.