Master Inika

Chapter 9 These moments, Wane was sure, were to be his last, at least his last moments as his own independent being. As the microseconds stretched painfully long, his bound body being pushed up into the Tower, he realized that no one would change their mind at the last second to save him. Fall, the only one in the universe he thought he could have trusted, looked aside. Was it shame or disinterest that made her turn her head? He would never know. In a few more moments, he might not remember this moment even happened. Then, the machine came to a screeching halt. Even at that great distance, Wane could see Makuro's mechanical eye twitch. "What is the meaning of this?!" the aged robot demanded, slamming his fists upon the railing. One of the technicians in the pits below meekly spoke up: "It's a Mission Manager, sir! One of them manually put in a full-stop on the Tower." Wane had never seen Mr. Makuro's face contort into an expression of such dissatisfaction. "I want that Mission Manager in this Tower!" Rush and Fall nodded to Makuro and raced out. The next few minutes for Wane were stressful ones. He dare not speak up, even though he knew, once this matter was ironed out, he would be in the same position he was before. This diversion had won him, maybe, ten more minutes of individuality. All the Mission Managers looked virtually identical, though little idiosyncrasies in how they moved or spoke gave them away. Zib always carried himself with unshakable self-assurance, while Thrift tended to pace around awkwardly whenever he did not know where to stand. The Mission Manager who was escorted in was not one Wane thought he recognized, at least not at first, until he recognized his incessant hand-wringing as that of Nelson Cold. Makuro regained his composure, listening intently to what Cold whispered to him without much comment, though the look of immense displeasure at the reprogramming's interruption did not once leave his visage. After Cold finished whispering to Makuro, Wane was removed from his restraints and escorted by the two Recon Team Heroes into a briefing room, far from the technicians, with Makuro and Cold. The lack of answers threatened to drive Wane mad. "What's going on?" he finally asked. Cold opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but then looked to Makuro first. Makuro shook his head no. "Consider yourself lucky, Wane," Makuro said. "Right before we could get underway, Professor Cold received a Priority 1 distress code. This mean that we'd need the Assembly Tower right away, so he disabled it remotely, as his training indicated he should do in such a situation." Professor Cold visibly breathed a sigh of relief at Makuro describing his actions positively. Makuro continued: "There are three villains at large on Bardobi Prime, besieging the Central Government Complex on Bardobi City," the founder explained. "They're all class-A villains, demanding the release of about a dozen crooks jailed on our site on the planet. If we don't comply, they're threatening to kill the governor, not to mention all the civilian bots who happen to be there now. There've already been casualties. There are other Hero teams available, but they're not as close as we are. Waiting for one of them to respond instead of the Heroes we have on hand now could cost extra lives." It took Wane a moment to process what Makuro was saying. Makuro nodded to Cold, who finally stepped forward and spoke: "Three dangerous villains, way too much for any of the rookies teams here on Makuhero Planet to handle," the Mission Manager said, wringing his hands more than ever. "So, that means we need three top-notch Heroes to go after them." He nodded to Fall, Rush, and Wane. "Me?!" Wane asked. "But I'm--" Mr. Makuro interrupted him. "What Cold said you were, a top-notch Hero. The reprogramming process takes too long than we have. There are innocent bots in trouble now." It looked like the next statement took some great effort on Makuro's part to say: "Swallow your pride for one miserable mission, Wane, and I'll..." Wane offered a solution to the dilemma: "Let me go?" Mr. Makuro gave his counteroffer: "We'll give you a head start." Wane had never seen Mr. Makuro wear such a sly smile. He imagined the founder was only trying to hide how powerless and frustrated he felt in the situation. Wane, supposing he did not have much of a choice, nodded affirmatively. To leave no doubt, he said: "Deal." *** The lone Hero Craft flew a course on autopilot from Makuhero Planet to Bardobi Prime, carrying the two Recon Team Heroes and their probationary third member. Though the reprogramming procedure would have taken up too much precious time, all three Heroes had been sent through the Assembly Tower and equipped with gadgets specific to this mission: Fall had been equipped specifically to combat Heatwave, the "muscle" of the three villains. A former smelting bot turned evil by a malfunction, Heatwave's powers were fire- and gas-based, so Fall had been given a hypersonic vacuum and industrial high-pressure water hose. She also received a special compression-sealed helmet designed to keep Heatwave's powers from overwhelming her. Rush, meanwhile, had been equipped for combat against Motherboard, the "techie" of the group. Motherboard lived a simple, quiet life as a technical diagnostics expert, until she realized there were more credits to be made breaking into mainframes than keeping them secure. Motherboard was cybernetically linked to the villainous trio's transport, the Chain Reaper, as well as interfaced to the Bardobi City central security system via a virus, giving her complete control of the city's automated defense systems. Rush's specialized tools included a counter-virus designed to deactivate (but not destroy) the hacked hardware as well as a protocol shielding his own mind from the effects of her virus. The leader of the three villains was an enigmatic criminal mastermind known only as Gravedigger. Rumors abounded as to where Gravedigger came from. All anyone knew was that, while he lacked any powers or dangerous equipment of his own, he was a tactical genius, known for bringing together small-times crooks of different personalities and skill sets to pull off heists and robberies none of them could dream of accomplishing alone. Against Gravedigger, Wane had been equipped with specialized armor and weapons, including an AI-augmented combat protocol designed to detect patterns in Gravedigger's actions that a normal Hero would miss on their own. The flight was mostly silent. Wane only violated the stillness to ask practical questions, which Fall would answer. Rush, despite being his ostensible teammate, did not even pretend to be happy about it. "Why me?" Wane finally asked. "How come you two are going after the henchbots, while I'm going after the big bad?" "I don't know," Fall admitted. So far, her answers had been fairly by-the-books and devoid of emotion, until she said: "Maybe he sees something special in you." Finally, Rush spoke up: "Or maybe he just wants to get you out of the way." Review Topic

I recently stumbled upon ICQ Friendship Cards, a series of little e-cards from the mid-2000s. The specific one that made me think of Lee Tockar is "Happy 2006!" I think his voice sounds exactly like Snips from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (voiced by Lee Tockar, who also voices Makuta in the Miramax movies, which is why I put this in the BIONICLE forum). If anyone else has Flashpoint and is able to look them up, let me know if you agree with me or if I'm going crazy. The ecards were not mentioned on Tockar's IMDb, but they might have been too obscure or never properly credited.

Chapter 8 When Wane came too, he realized he was looking out a window. He was back on Makuhero City. Between him and the window was an empty desk. He had seen it in dozens of propaganda holofilms, but never in person. It was the stately desk of Mr. Makuro. From behind him, the sound of footsteps approaching rang. Mr. Makuro himself, the warm smile he so often put up in the videos absent, took his place at the desk. Wane flinched, expecting to find his wrists bolted to his armrests, but they were not. "No Hero Cuffs?" Wane asked. Mr. Makuro laughed gently. "We're both civilized bots, Gregory," the founder said. "I know you're not going to attack me. You'd have nothing to gain by doing that. Is it so hard to believe that all I want is to have a conversation with you before your reprogramming?" Wane wondered, just for a second, if stopping to help the monastery had been a bad idea. If he should have just kept running and never looked back. "I know what you're thinking right now," Makuro said. "Or, at least, I can make an educated guess. You must think it's horrible of me to play God, messing with other beings' thoughts the way I do. I programmed you once, just like I programmed Von Ness and Stormer and every other Hero to come out of that tower. Surely you don't think I'm a monster for creating you, so why do you act like I am one for wanting to refine you? "Let me tell you a story. It starts with something I don't remember: my most recent reprogramming. You see, I don't know where I created, how long ago, or for what purpose. My own earliest memories are a few centuries ago, in a Xynothium mine somewhere out in uncharted space. It was not easy work, and it was harder for those of us who complained. I complained often. My taskmasters would use reprogramming as a punishment, both erasing happy memories and implanting false ones to keep us compliant. One day, an opportunity for escape presented itself. I took it. My experiences taught me that this universe needs a force for good. I got to work making a name for myself, until I had the means and resources to act on my vision. You might think my organization employs questionable means. You would be correct. I assure you, though, had you seen what I have seen, you would not think twice about making the choices I have made were you in my armor plating." "You act like I'm some kind of saboteur working to bring the Factory down," Wane said. "I'm not. All I want is to keep to myself, live a respectable life, and not bother anyone. If you had stopped sending agents after me, you'd never hear from me again." "Maybe that's the case," Makuro admitted, "and maybe it is not. A former Hero, in the hands of villainy, can do more evil than even they know. We have an obligation, you and I both, to put all our skills into the service of good." Even though Wane wasn't physically restrained, he felt like he was. He knew Makuro was right. Even if he ran out the door, surely there were Heroes waiting to pounce on him and inflict more punishment on him than he was already in for. On second thought, Wane realized, Makuro probably didn't view any of what he was about to do as "punishment" at all. "So," Wane asked, "what's the point of all this? Why am I here at all, instead of in the Tower now, being brainwashed into a good little crime-fighting bot?" Mr. Makuro declined to comment on Wane's choice of words. Instead, he answered Wane's question: "Runners like you are quite inconvenient. You draw time and resources that could be committed to the furtherance of our other goals. So, I'd only like to give you a chance to air all your grievances. If, in some way, I can change the way Heroes are trained to discourage such foolish attempts as yours, of course I will do so." When Wane declined to make any comments, even after a painfully long few moments had passed, Mr. Makuro shrugged. "Suit yourself, Hero." *** This time, Wane was strapped in. Petunia Fall and her partner, Jeremy Rush, stood at attention. Rush looked as if he was relishing finally having captured a victim, but Fall stood with an unmoving, expressionless face, betraying neither joy nor sorrow at what was about to proceed. The technicians typed in the coordinates for the Tower to perform its function. All Wane's memories that made him who he was were imminently going to be purged. The machine began to grind and whir as Wane was lifted into the Tower's matrix. Review Topic

Michael I like the brick-build helmet and gun. He looks very industrial.

I've been binging the TV show Code Lyoko recently and couldn't help but notice something interesting: one of the enemies, call a Blok, has the exact same four-note sound effect as the Treebot from the old LEGO.com game World Builder. Here they are for comparison: Treebot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ra07xd1Pykk (6:35) Blok: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Swp7IxtoaSw (16:09) I know there are other well-documented instances of this, like all of MNOG's stock sound effects (I specifically recall hearing one musical cue from the Charred Forest used in a movie on Disney Channel). I just thought this would be interesting for anyone else fascinated by the minutiae of behind-the-scenes of nostalgic early 2000's stuff. What other sound effects from LEGO have you heard used elsewhere?

Tren Krom and Keetongu’s islands are both still visible on Nato’s map (he cropped the feet portions out because the Makuta did not control it). That’s a good idea, representing gladiators. That’s true, Destral, Artakha and Daxia being secret makes sense, but how are you actually supposed to hire the Dark Hunters if no one knows where to find them? Are there just Dark Hunter public relations centers? Because they are allegedly supposed to be mercenaries, right?

That was fast, and it looks great, too. I like the icons for all the Makuta's masks. Did you make them yourself and if not, where did you find them? I find Miserix's especially cool, since his mask is built from other pieces and honestly from the angle in the official image I can't really tell how it should be shaped head-on (but the icon is unmistakable.) It makes sense to use the Avohkii for Kojol too, even if he didn't wear it. I assume that the crossed Air Katana/Ice Sword for the MoS is supposed to be a generic "image unknown," but I feel like the Vahi could have worked for him (it's not associated with any other island except Metru Nui and is connected to Stelt through Voporak), but that's purely a cosmetic suggestion. Your observation about Vamprah as Odina's Makuta is interesting. The fact that Odina even has a Makuta after the events of LoMN seems suspect to me; I assume that Vamprah had no instructions to hamper the Hunters when they were the Brotherhood's allies and, by the time the war started, they were too entrenched to be removed. I feel like Vamprah's claim on Odina was "in name only" for that last 1,000 years and it's especially interesting that it did not seem held against him that he allowed the Brotherhood's future enemy to flourish for thousands of years. (Vamprah, like Mutran, was probably an absentee overseer.) If allowing the Dark Hunters to grow that powerful was in any way viewed as Vamprah's fault, I imagine he would have been punished for it (like Spiriah) and not remain high-up enough to be assigned to something important as the Karda Nui invasion.

So, according to this, the Barraki are originally from: Kalmah: near Artakha Takadox: Odina Carapar: Southern Islands Pridak: Visorak Ehlek: waters around Zakaz (already canon) Mantax: Southern Island/Voya Nui This makes a lot of sense to me. I find a lot of little details it implies interesting, like that Pridak ruled the island that Nocturn split in half. Just for fun, I did a quick BS01 search of where each Makuta ruled. (On that note, I don't know if you used a special program to color this in, but making a color-coded Makuta map would be equally cool.) It looks like the Barraki's territory was divided up this way: Kalmah's territory (partially) went to Gorast. (Tren Krom Peninsula; since it is only specified as the peninsula implies a different unknown Makuta ruled the rest of the Northern Continent.) Takadox's territory was split between Vamprah, Tridax, and Chirox. (Carapar's territory doesn't correspond to a known Makuta.) Pridak's was split between Icarax and Antroz, and the Makuta of Stelt. Ehlek's only named island (Zakaz) went to Spiriah then later Krika. Assuming "central area of the Southern Continent" is largely the same thing as Voya Nui, it looks like Mutran and Mantax's territory mostly overlapped (with one or multiple different Makuta having the coastline). Miserix, Teridax, Kojol, and Bitil received territory that were never properly ruled by the Barraki.

Chapter 7 The Hero Craft flew through the Kylenian Hyperway, one of its three occupants in a forced coma in the storage hold. Gregory Wane and Petunia Fall, prisoner and captor, sat in the pilot and co-pilots' seats, watching the stars fly by. "I thought you were dead," Wane admitted. "After you went to the instructor's office that day, what happened to you?" Fall looked down, smiling sadly. "It's... not easy to say. They asked me a lot of question, scanned me for bugs. They asked me if I had talked to anyone else about how I was feeling--I lied and didn't mention you. I was afraid they'd somehow be able to read my thoughts and memories, but I guess they haven't figured out how to do that yet. They tried to talk me into staying a Hero, and when they realized I wouldn't do it, they send me back to the Assembly Tower." The Assembly Tower. Aside from their creation in the enormous structure, Heroes only returned there for mission-specific modifications. Wane had not remained a Hero long enough for any such sessions but knew enough about the nature of most changes from his classes: new weapons, armor or technology in their helmets, mostly. It had not occurred to him before that the Tower could modify a Hero's central processing unit, and therefore personality, as well. Apparently, whatever they did to her changed her enough not just to keep her a Hero but make her Recon Team material to boot. "I don't remember the process that clearly," she said. "Part of it was removing old memories, whatever it was I had seen that made me decide not to be a Hero in the first place." "What about me?" Wane blurted out. Only after did he realize that he should not have, though. Fall smiled, but again, it was not a joyful expression. "They didn't want me forgetting you," she said. "In fact, I should be thanking you. You're why I'm Recon Team." Wane took a step back, not that it would do him any good in their starship in the middle of space. "What do you mean?" "The point of all this has been to convince you that you are a Hero, Wane." Her voice was still light and friendly, but now bore a menacing undercurrent. "Think about it. Only a Hero would run in the direction of a monastery under attack knowing they could just as easily flee. You belong with us." He thought back to Progenitax and his offer of becoming a part of the Order. How Progenitax, too, had wanted him to change who he was. "Get away from me." Wane was unable to conjure up a response any more measured or refined. "You're not Petunia." "What are you talking about?" she said, rising and taking a step toward him. "How could I be anything different than who I've always been? It will be no different for you. You won't be any less yourself; if anything, you'll be more. You've spent all this time running from the Factory, but haven't you ever thought about how they're who created us? You're trying to protect your components and programming from danger, but it's Makuro who gave it all to us in the first place. It all really belongs to him more than us, when you think about it." Wane noticed Fall's hand lingering at her utility belt, possibly preparing to use another comabolt. Wane would not give her the chance to use it. He ducked and rolled past her, coming to a stop on the other side of the cockpit. Her smile gone, Fall lunged at him, but before she could reach him, Wane threw his dagger past her at the control panel. The weapon embedded itself into the console, sparking and smoking, as the doorway closed and sealed between them, trapping Fall in the cockpit and leaving Wane free for the moment to escape to another part of the ship. "Only a Hero could think so fast on his feet, Wane!" Fall cried out to him over the intercom. "Hero Factory needs you!" The runaway ignored her words, rushing straight for where the escape pods should have been. Over the intercom, Fall laughed. Wane realized why as he reached the empty escape pod bay. "Did you really think we'd let you pull that little stunt twice, Wane?" she teased. "There aren't any escape pods on this ship. You're stuck with me until we make it back to Makuhero City. I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted to make you see reason. But, if you insist on being stubborn..." A loud hiss came from all around Wane as knockout gas pumped into the chamber. Review Topic

Thornatus V9 by far. It's one of the most rewarding builds in all of BIONICLE and (as a long-term owner) the land vehicles stay intact much longer than the sky vehicles. My Rockoh, Jetrax, and Axalara all have broken pieces in the landing gear from years of being displayed. The land vehicles' weight is evenly distributed on the wheels, so they're still good. Plus, I love the Ben Hur aesthetic. Not that the Skopio is a bad set, but it's a repetitive and somewhat frustrating build, and it's not as poseable as it could be. (Having legs in addition to wheels implied a certain degree of posability versus just wheels.) Cendox, Kaxium and Baranus meanwhile all feel a little too bare-bones. Thornatus feels like the highest version of BIONICLE vehicle design.

Chapter 6 The next settlement was just over the horizon. The night winds had not been merciful and his joints creaked with the crooked song of a much-needed oil change. Though he could not yet see the spaceport, he could see oblong black shapes, ships coming and going, converging on that longed-for place beyond the horizon. Soon enough, if he could afford a fresh oiling before takeoff, he could put this destitute rock and all its troubles behind him. One of the black shapes did not land at the spaceport. Instead, it kept moving overhead. As it neared, he recognized it as a Hero Craft. He smiled under his hood. Even if the foreman had reported him, by the time the Heroes had landed at the first settlement, it would be too late for them to catch up with him at the second. Then, with dread, Wane realized the Hero Craft was not heading to the first settlement. It was heading to the mountains, toward Progenitax's monastery. Wane stopped moving. He never wanted to drag the monks into this. They were innocent bystanders. If, though, they had somehow found out the monks had harbored him... Wane remembered Progenitax's words: We render no aid to their enemies, and they respect our sacred boundaries. Wane could not flee while those his choices endangered bore the brunt of the Factory. He turned and ran, and did not stop running until he neared the monastery. He could see the rising smoke long before he reached it. "Progenitax?" he cried. The stones, once so carefully set up at the entrance, were now strewn about haphazardly. Black marks covered the formerly pristine cave entrance. "Hello? Anyone?" He ran into the cave. Most of the flames and lights had been extinguished, but he still made out the silhouette of a form near Progenitax's cell. Squinting, he realized with relief that the form, standing up under its own power, was small enough to only be Progenitax. "Father!" he cried out. "Wane..." the robot squaked weakly. "You should not have returned." From behind him, he heard two weapons being unholstered. Without turning around, he said, "Where are the other monks?" "Safe, for now." The voice that replied, through the static masking, was recognizable as the voice of the female Hero who had interrogated Progenitax before. "Come with us, and they'll be left alone." *** Wane sat, Hero-Cuffed, in the holding bay of the Hero Craft as it rose into the air. As planned, he was departing RF-34 that morning, but not discreetly on a civilian vessel as he would have hoped. Would the Heroes honor their deal to leave the monastery alone? Wane had no way of knowing. All that he knew was that he could not stomach the idea of further harm coming to them because of his stubbornness. The ship was currently on autopilot, leaving the two Heroes to address their prisoner. The male Hero was looming over him, doing most of the talking, while the female stood near the doorway, saying nothing but keeping her gaze fixed squarely on Wane. "I want answers, renegade," the Hero said. He reared back his armored hand and delivered a blow to Wane's right cheek. The transistors in his neck strained. He never did get that oil change. "Right," Wane said under his breath. "And I want a fresh coat of paint." "You think that's funny?" his interrogator roared. "You know we're taking you back, right? And you know you're nothin' but scrap metal once we get there?" The male Hero's ranting was a good thing. It gave Wane a chance to observe his interlocutors. They wore silver chestplates the likes of which he was not familiar with. He also did not recognize the identical helmets they seemed to be wearing over their regular, personalized helmets. It might have been some new Factory program. So far, he had managed to stay one step ahead by using his insider knowledge, but the more time passed, the more dated his knowledge became. "Your entire body is property of the Hero Factory!" By now, the man was not even asking him questions, just raving and striking him without cause. Whoever he was, he must have taken defections like Wane's personally. Before the session of pain could continue, though, his glowing eyes abruptly went dark. His body froze in place, hand reared back to strike again. Then, unceremoniously, his entire body slumped to the floor. The female had silently snuck over and attached a comabolt onto his back. He would be fine once it was removed. That did not explain why she did, though. "What's going on?" Wane asked. "I apologize for my accomplice," she said, ignoring his question. "Usually, Hero Recon Team chooses the best and most promising. Sam is proof that, sometimes, you can get made HRT by brutalizing enough crime-bots." "Who are you?" Wane demanded, straining against his cuffs. She laughed. "I was hoping, despite my disguise, you'd have recognized me." She slid off her outer helmet, revealing a familiar face. "Hello, Wane." He blinked. All this time, he had entertained idealistic notions that, just maybe, he would uncover some secret conspiracy and save her, when it turned out here she was, hopefully saving him. "Petunia?" Review Topic

Chapter 5 About six moons had passed. Wane had put behind him the monastery of the Order of Cognizant Creations, grateful for their hospitality and protection from his enemies, but the longer he had lingered, the more he had come to notice something indescribably but undeniably... wrong about them. First, his old friend Petunia was not to be found among their ranks. Father Progenitax must have noticed the hope in Wane's servo when he mentioned other Heroes, for he had to clarify: no Hero had joined their monastery in many years, much too long ago for any to have known Wane personally. So, then, his quest for Fall, if she remained to be found, would have to continue. But, Father Progenitax emphasized, his offer to join the Order remained. He had said: "Your protection would be total. That 'H' which I know remains on your chest would be no more." That, too, got Wane's attention. "Really?" he asked. It would be as if he had never been a Hero. He would never have to worry about being found out and forced to return to the Factory. Father Progenitax nodded, a warm and comforting gesture, even as Wane heard the scraping of gears within his neck. "Not only that, friend, but your very self will be rebuilt anew. No longer will you be Wane. No name, no want, no self." That did not inspire the same warm feeling in Wane. "No name?" he repeated. "What do you mean?" "Well, think about it logically," the Father spoke. "Isn't 'Gregory Wane' the name Makuro gave you? Why would you wish to keep it?" Wane did not answer. He was too busy trying to recall if he had mentioned his first name to Progenitax, and found the conclusion that he had not too disturbing to reach. Perhaps sensing he had alienated his young guest, the Father said gently, "Allow me to ask you one final question: did you think 'Father Progenitax' is what I was called when I was first built?" "I think I should like to take my leave." Wane had not meant to blurt it out like that, and worried he had offended his benefactor, but Progenitax simply laughed. Escorting him back to the monastery's entrance, Progenitax summoned the monk-bot to return Wane's dagger. In parting, he also offered closing words of advice: "You should be safe in town, but wait about ten moons before you try to leave. The Heroes will be monitoring the ships' manifests." "Understood," Wane replied. "Thank you, Father." Progenitax nodded in response, and Wane began his journey back to the settlement. *** The following moons passed uneventfully. Hero Craft continued to make occasional visits to the planet. Wane found under-the-table work in a reclamation center near the spaceport, which earned him enough credits to modify his faceplate, hands and feet. It was not enough to meaningfully change his build or voice, so if the Heroes knew exactly what to look for they would be able to spot him, but the mods made it safe enough to wander in public during the day. After another mundane moon passed, the foreman handed out their wages, stopping Wane. "I hate to admit it, but I've been calling ye by yer serial number this whole time," the foreman confessed. "Tell me, what'd ye say yer name was?" "I didn't, actually," Wane replied. "But you can call me Gix." "Gix," the foreman repeated. "Is that yer first name or yer last name?" Wane immediately replied, "Just Gix," before realizing he should have just lied and added a first name like "Bill." The foreman looked unsure, but did not press the issue. "Well, we'll see you tomorrow, Gix." "See you tomorrow," Wane repeated. He cashed in his credits as soon as he could. He could not tell exactly why, but something told him not to return the next day. Wane thought he had been covering his tracks, but he must have missed something. It was fully possible that Hero Factory had developed some protocol for tracking him down since he left, and even if they had not, he had never been making his plans with all the information anyway. He must have slipped up at some point, and now his old employer was suspicious. Fortunately, Wane had accounted for this precise situation and had set aside enough credits to leave town for one of the other settlements and purchase a seat on one of their transports. Enough time, he hoped, had passed to safely flee the planet. Where he would go next, he was not sure. As he walked through the desert, his belongings in a bag hanging at his side under his cloak, he considered stopping one final time at the monastery. Though it felt strange to admit, he felt as though he could have used something of Progenitax's maybe-enlightened, maybe-insane words. He thought it better not to risk drawing to them any unwanted Hero attention, in case he was being tracked by someone. He settled for merely nodding in the monastery's general direction as he passed it. When he turned the other way and squinted, dialing his optical receptors as far as they could go, he detected his destination just on the horizon. It would be a long, cold night of walking, but he felt he had more than worn out his welcome on RF-34. Review Topic

I don't look down on you for it, I just wish that you would have experienced BIONICLE in its prime in 2005 or 2006. It was like nothing else.

For sure. I have tried to rewatch them before and take some nostalgic value from them the way I do with the Miramax trilogy or even TLR and it's just not there.

Originally, this blog post was going to focus on Code Lyoko, but I have decided to expand it to be about escapism and fiction in general, since I have recently begun watching (and binging) Twelve Forever. There is a lot of behind-the-scenes drama regarding the show's creator that I won't be talking about. The show was first recommended to me by a former friend I no longer talk to back when it aired around 2019, but I have not sat down to watch it until now. If you read my previous entry, in which I get all existential about BIONICLE and the passage of time, you won't be surprised to know that Twelve Forever resonates with me in a deep way. It captures in a visceral way how alluring and tempting remaining in childhood is. Personally, I think people have a bad habit of using "growing up" as a catch-all for a variety of unpleasant and frankly unnecessary aspects of modern life. It is nothing more than a thought-stopping technique meant to convince themselves that alienation from one's emotions is the norm and "adult." I never accepted it and never had any good reason to. Twelve Forever and Code Lyoko both focus on a group of children (three, to be exact) who regularly travel to an extraordinary land. In Code Lyoko, this escape-world is the digital realm of Lyoko, where they must travel to fight X.A.N.A. and his monsters to save the world. Naturally, since it's a children's action/adventure show, it glosses over a lot of the unpleasant aspects of Lyoko that I'm sure are there--there is a broadly accepted theory that every time they "die" in Lyoko and get rematerialized back in the real world, all their injuries "catch up" with them and put them out of commission for a while. The purpose of the show is that, despite the fact that the kids are in life-of-death situations that kids shouldn't be in for real, the show's aesthetic and the way it is framed make fighting on Lyoko look awesome. In this respect, there is a significant gap between how the escape-world is perceived by the characters in the show and how it is meant to be perceived by us. BIONICLE and especially Pokémon are other examples of this type of storytelling. (In the case of BIONICLE, it depends: the Toa, for instance, are coded as adults as opposed to children. When we watch Tahu fighting the Rahkshi, the child viewer is meant to understand that this is more appropriate than, say, Hahli or Turaga Vakama fighting a Rahkshi. That does not mean that, at other points such as MNOG, the combat between Matoran/children and dangers is not similarly idealized as in CL.) The Hunger Games is an example of a non-cartoon that does its best to subvert this kid-friendly combat aspect, to the point where it is something of a joke in the fandom that, if you glamorize and want to fight in the Games, you don't understand the point of the story. (Idealizing the violence is explicitly what the Capitol citizens, who while not evil are useless and naïve, do.) Twelve Forever is not like Code Lyoko or BIONICLE. Endless Island is an escape-world for the main characters in the same way that the show itself is written to be an escape-world for the viewer. This offers its own unique comparisons to BIONICLE, however. Perhaps I was just a weird kid, but I always found the aspects of BIONICLE that were mundane to the characters in the story, like their homes and occupations, just as interesting as the major plot events and battles. I was so fascinated by the idea of lava farming, or the various mining disputes in Onu-Koro. MNOG in particular leaned into the everyday aspects of life on Mata Nui, the kind of things whose real-world equivalents children find painfully boring. SpongeBob SquarePants is another example of this method of storytelling: how much narrative finesse it took that show's writers to make working at the Krusty Krab, a greasy fast food joint, feel exciting for kids to learn about. As I grew up and did work service jobs, I was stunned to realize just how much actual real-world aspects made it into SpongeBob, and yet how relatable it still felt to watch. That, I suppose, is the ideal mark of good children's entertainment, something that does have meaning for adult viewers to recognize but, if it is unrecognized, does not make itself known. The Fairly OddParents is on the other end of the SpongeBob spectrum. TFO is on a category of shows including Code Lyoko, Rick and Morty, or Regular Show, that are set in the "real" world until a catalyst, generally at the end of the first act, that signifies the "transition" to the fantastical. The difference here is that, at least in a show like TFO, the "point" is often that the fantastical has no meaning except in the ways that it mirrors the mundane. The show's formula involves Timmy having some problem, making a wish to try to fix it in an easy way, and the wish backfiring. The point of each episode is that Timmy either has to find a non-magical solution to his problems, or accept them as a fact of life. (At least at first, I haven't watched the show since Wishology.) In this way, Timmy Turner is the Zillennial's Sisyphus. In hindsight, what makes Cosmo and Wanda stand out most as characters is their status as Timmy godparents. They give him the emotional support that his actual parents are in most episodes too cartoony to meaningfully provide. The fact that they are magical beings feels almost like an afterthought, a non-personal role they just happen to fill. Another show which Twelve Forever will remind the viewer heavily of is Adventure Time, the difference being that Twelve Forever explicitly contrasts the mundane and extraordinary. In the case of Adventure Time, which takes place begin to end in the extraordinary, the responsibility falls to the viewer to supply their own mundane reality as a contrast to the whimsical world of Ooo. That does allow Ooo to have its own BIONICLE-esque "mundane within the extraordinary." In a show like Adventure Time, that throws so much nonsense in the viewer's face, what remains in my memory the most are small details about Finn and Jake's everyday life, like how they have a non-electric icebox as opposed to a fridge, but ice is apparently valuable enough in Ooo that an established social convention is guests bringing their own ice. Another interest point which has lived rent-free in my head is the delicious food Jake is always cooking, like the everything burrito or bacon pancakes--weirdly normal human food in a world devoid of other meaningful references to modern real-world location and concepts. There is a dark side to Forever Twelve. One thing which I have found vindicated in online reviews is just how weird, sometimes in a troubling way, Endless Island is. In the case of Adventure Time, since the weirdness is 24/7, it invites the viewer to "translate" the weirdness into a certain normality that Forever Twelve does not have, since Forever Twelve explicitly contrasts the weirdness with mundane reality. What Forever Twelve reminds me of most is Jack Stauber's OPAL. If you have not seen it, and enjoy psychologically unnerving horror, I strongly advise you to watch it. It's quite short and free on YouTube. All I will say is that, while the escape from reality into fantasy is normally whimsical and comforting in fiction, in the case of OPAL, it is horrifying. Forever Twelve takes place somewhere in the middle, with Reggie's dependence on Endless having a certain similarity to a drug addiction. The bland, colorless, and depressing way the real world is sometimes drawn in Forever Twelve only solidifies the concept. (See also: Coraline.) This entry ended up being a bit longer and more rambling than I anticipated. Most of these thoughts are thoughts I have had in some capacity for years, which Forever Twelve only recently gave me the impetus to put to text. I increasingly feel that I myself use outlets like BZPower as my own Endless Island, or Time Before Time, escaping the constraining loneliness of artificial modernity.

If I composed music for Hero Factory, I would pay LEGO to make sure no one ever found out.

It's impressive if such a beautiful and intricate model really was influenced by just one new element. She's a very lovely MOC. I love her baseplate as well.

I knew these specific images were prototypes, it's obvious because of the rip cord color. There are tons of other Visorak images that aren't like this, though. When I clicked this, I thought you meant ALL Visorak images.

I like the blending of HF and Bionicle G1 and G2 pieces. They go together nicely. Between the two, I think Nex has a more unified look. Rocka's Hero Core looks too obscured and I also don't get what the bump on his right forearm is supposed to be, but I like Rocka's industrial-looking color scheme. Overall they are both good models, especially Nex.

Chapter 4 Wane wandered the desolate landscape of RF-34. The small settlement, one of only a handful on the planet, appeared tiny in the background, but he would have more than enough time to make it back for his shuttle departure. Walking the empty, liminal environment helped him clear his processors and make sense of the previous day's misadventure. "Hero Gregory Wane," he muttered to himself, before laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. In his head, he imagined being in an emergency situation like that would have been horrifying. Indeed, it was; his rest the previous night had been fraught and full of nightmares. But, when he awoke, he found himself excited, and almost disappointed he would never face such a thrilling situation again. Maybe, in some small way, Mr. Fuse had been right. Wane's musings were interrupted by the sight of a Hero Craft approaching in the distance, making its way toward the settlement. Wane should have known his pod would have been tracked. If the landing team followed standard Hero operating procedure, then they had already performed a full techno-organic scan of the planet and picked him up. Unless Wane could lose them in these mountains, he would be found for sure. *** Wane pressed his body up against the rock wall. A pair Heroes, one male and one female, trailed him. Having found this mountain range only shortly before they did, his knowledge of it was only slightly more precise. Unless he thought of another fancy trick, they would catch him in due time. Then, Wane noticed something about the howling wind that perpetually sang throughout the quarry. He felt foolish for having not picked up on it before: it was not wind, it was chanting. Following the sound of the monophonous noise, he came upon a monastery, built right into the rock itself. About a dozen monk-bots performed a ritual in the open courtyard, before the gaping mouth of the nearby cave that served as the entrance to their monastery. Judging by the size of the mountain it entered into, the monastery could have gone on for miles inside. Better still, the dozen cultists wore brown cloaks indistinguishable from Wane's own. Wane rushed downward, stopping right as he came to the circle of cultists. He did his best to emulate their hand gestures, though he knew how painfully he must stick out: the dozen chanters were arranged in a perfect dodecagon, so his inclusion as a thirteenth would stand out to his pursuers for sure. To his surprise, though, the cultists adjusted themselves accordingly, making him look just like he belonged there. He did not know why they were covering for a total stranger like him, but he would have time to thank them later. His pursuers had arrived. Wane watched out of the corner of his optical sensors as they approached. Before they fully reached the circle of chanters, an aged monk-bot in ornate robes, bearing a gold staff, walked out to meet them. Wane tried to listen to their conversation: "--tracked a renegade Hero out here," one of the Heroes, the female, was saying. "Renegade?" the old monk said, following by something too soft for Wane to make out, then, "Surely, Makuro will respect our..." Wane, again, could not make out the following word. Maybe "agreement"? The male Hero said something, the words indistinct but the tone clearly displeased. The female said something that calmed him down. "Perhaps you will stay for evening vigil," the old monk, seemingly oblivious to the Heroes' exasperation, offered. The Heroes said only a few more words, and then departed. Wane breathed a sigh of relief too soon. Upon turning around, he found himself faceplate-to-faceplate with the aged robot. The rust and exposed wiring around his eyes and mouth made it clear this bot was even older than Mr. Makuro. "Welcome, friend," he said. "I am Father Progenitax. Please, you'll want to join me inside." *** The interior of the monastery was just as spacious as Wane thought it could have been. The upper floor was composed of a large area, which looked as if it should have caused a cave-in but apparently did not, with several tunnels going down deeper into the earth. "Your friends will not bother us again," Father Progenitax explained. "We have an understanding with Hero Factory. We render no aid to their enemies, and they respect our sacred boundaries." "Interesting," Wane said. He recalled learning about these ancient brotherhoods in Hero Relations. There had been a controversy, some years back, when a Hero or someone claiming to be one chased a bandit into one such domain and, in performing his arrest, accidentally destroyed some ancient artifact. Since then, these communities have not been receptive to Hero presence, and for once, galactic public opinion was against the Heroes. Father Progenitax stopped abruptly. Wane followed his lead, and noticed that they stood before a cell carved into the wall of the cave. "Before we proceed," the Father said, "I must inform you, too, of our prohibition on weapons within the sacred grounds." He held out his hand. Not knowing how Progenitax knew of it, Wane drew his knife and surrendered it to the Father, who gave it to a monk-bot who appeared beside them, only to scurry off into the darkness with it. Inside Progenitax's cell, the two bots enjoyed a shared bowl of oil, conveyed into their servos by the same spoon. "Your home is beautiful," Wane said. "A little dark and cramped for my tastes, but, beautiful. Why, though, do you live like this? We're machines, aren't we? We're not meant to live away from power grids and urban cities like this." "Let me ask you a question," Progenitax asked in turn. "Who created us?" Wane had to stop for a moment, not because he thought it was a difficult question but because the wording sounded strange to his audio receptors. "Well, obviously, Hero Factory made me," was his answer. "I don't know what you were originally built for, if you were a construction bot or security bot, but--" Progenitax raised a gentle but firm hand. "Not you and me," he clarified. "I mean, who created us? Who created robotkind?" When Wane did not have a response, Progenitax, pleased, explained: "If you consult the historical records of the secularists, they will tell you that no one knows where we come from, that we simply appear with no explanation. We know better. We have preserved the true history of the universe." The old monk pulled out an ancient book--not a holo-book like the ones Wane was familiar with, but a bound codex of vellum parchment--and opened it. Wane did not recognize the ancient script, but the pictures made sense as Progenitax spoke: "There was an ancient race of Soft Ones, who wore no armor. It was they who made us, the first robots, their children as well as their slaves. We worked for them, building shining cities for them to live on, performing tasks for them and turning earth into their heaven." Progenitax turned the page. While the first illustrations had made Wane feel warm inside, showing in simple art the love that existed between the first robots and their creators, the next page made Wane want to turn off his visualizers. Progenitax continued: "Then, we fought for them their horrible wars. The Soft Ones were almost annihilated. They only survive on a few far-flung worlds now. It was we alone who inherited their glorious city-planets. And now, the truth survives only in monasteries, far from the temptations of urbanity, such as we, the Order of Cognizant Creations." The old robot gave Wane a moment to process this information. And then, when the glow in Wane's eyes began to return to normal, Progenitax said, "You could, of course, remain here, under our protection." "Really?" Wane said. "You mean, become one of you?" Progenitax nodded his head yes. "You would not be the first Hero to join our number." Many thoughts ran through Wane's CPU, but only one important one: the prospect that, just maybe, his old friend, Petunia Fall, had somehow escaped Makuhero City before him and had come to settle on this very monastery as well. Review Topic

Consider this to be an addendum to my recent topic about the BIONICLE Dream. I tried my best to make that topic normal and not too depressing (and I will leave to you how successful I was). Since BIONICLE has ended (and by that I mean since 2010; G2 barely registered for me as an event), BIONICLE itself, the time from when I got my first set in 2003 to 2010, feels like my own personal "time before time." On one hand, it does feel like time existed as a BIONICLE fan, and even that BIONICLE is what made me aware of time. Before 2003 (when I was seven years old), my memories are emotional but do not take place in any particular order. After 2003, it feels much more structured, like each years builds up to the next. When someone says 2005, for example, even in a context related to a movie or something else from pop culture or current events, my first thought is Web of Shadows (along with Revenge of the Sith). I do remember, post-2010, each year feeling much less meaningful or distinct. I had learned to almost need a new wave of BIONICLE sets and lore to feel like a year has properly passed, as weird as that is to admit. I still feel that way now. I do suppose that those years, from ages 7 to 14, it is probably normal to feel that way about the passage of time, I just find it interesting how perfectly it synced up with BIONICLE. I recall from the MNOG behind-the-scenes documentary, the game designers knew that the kids into BIONICLE were not necessarily the popular kids, and that's why they chose the weirdos of each village (Taipu, the Onu-Matoran who liked sunlight; Tamaru, the Le-Matoran afraid of heights, etc.) to be the heroes of the day. In the case of characters like Kopeke, it feels sometimes like the Chronicler's Company was intentionally coded to be in some way neurodivergent, which might be why they resonated with us so much. Toa Matoro feels very similar, I always found it profound that he thought of himself and others too thought of him as "just a translator" before 2007. I have heard people who weren't raised with BIONICLE say it's just plastic toys and give me a side eye for my huge collection, and I suppose from a strictly reductionist sense they are correct, but from watching videos like the first BIONICLE pitch video (on Christian Faber's YouTube channel Quest for Future Creativity) it really does seem to be that BIONICLE was crafted as if it were a legitimate form of genuine modern mythology as opposed to trinkets to keep kids occupied. Perhaps it is only because I was an introspective child and feel somewhat cheated by public school and the world, but BIONICLE feels much more like it was building up to something gratifying than anything else that was going on during my upbringing. Maybe this is a common feeling, or maybe I am just losing it. I guess that is what I meant my BIONICLE being my own personal "time before time." I've also been binging Code Lyoko lately, which might explain my wistful escapism. Maybe I will make another blog entry about that show, which is also a powerful source of nostalgia (though not as much as BIONICLE).

I have not seen any topics about this phenomenon yet, even though I think it is mentioned quite frequently on other online BIONICLE spaces. Who else here has experienced The Dream? If you have had it, you probably know what I mean, but on the off chance you do not, I am referring to dreaming of finding BIONICLE sets on store shelves again. I've noticed many different variations, some people dreaming of old sets being rereleased and other dreaming of brand new sets. As for me, I have found that my BIONICLE-in-stores dreams are usually of classic sets being rereleased with new, somewhat minimalist-looking packaging. In one of the few I concretely remember, they were rereleases of the Bohrok Va, only with white backgrounds similar to the 2006 Matoran. I will also mention that my dreams usually take place in department store landscapes resembling Walmart, Target, or Toys R Us (naturally, where I actually bought BIONICLE sets when they were being sold). Usually in my dreams, the layout of these stores is not something I am familiar with, as if I have an idea of where things should be but the store has been remodeled recently. (I am always annoyed when this happens to me IRL.) Usually, The Dream begins with me looking around the store for something else like food or other regular groceries and being stunned to come across rows of BIONICLE sets. Usually, as with the Walmart/Target department store landscape, the store is white and fairly clean, though I did have one Dream that took place in something more like an outdoor Middle Eastern bazaar (that one was surreal). I wish I kept track of when/how frequently I have had The Dream. I do keep a dream journal, but for some reason I have never written down my "The Dream" BIONICLE dreams. I suppose I can't usually describe specific ones that concretely, beyond "I dreamed I saw BIONICLE in the store again." It is only with the benefit of a few years of hindsight that I can identify these trends, at least the ones unique to me. In the past few years, I have gathered up quite a few empty BIONICLE canisters for sale. For anyone similar existential and nostalgic for the old days, I recommend it if your budget/space allows. Setting them all up in a row really does recreate something of that happy feeling (and it is even better if you can fill the canisters up with loose parts for the sound and feel of a canister full of fresh parts). So, I suppose I am asking for others' experiences with The Dream and general post-BIONICLE malaise as well. Honestly, I would love to have The Dream again, but it has been a few months. I wish I could lucid dream, but I never developed the discipline.

Good catch, I always assumed it was one of the Piraka and they just drew a sphere instead of a canister because the spheres had been in store (in the form of the Toa Metru canisters' lids) more recently.

The first picture made me think, "Huh, I don't know what he's going for but it looks neat," but the second picture looks like some kind of crazy contraption Avak would make in his spare time. I didn't understand what you were trying to make until I saw the second picture. How well does it actually work firing Zamors? It seems to be that the construction is pretty precise, which is why I don't think the first image would actually work. When you think about how a Zamor Launcher really works, it puts quite a bit of stress on the two prongs, so I would be cautious that firing it more rapidly than manually with your fingers would take might damage the piece.

I have never personally seen anything. I believe stuff I don't understand exists but I don't believe most people who say they've seen it.