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Even though the corporate world have mostly forgotten about it, I know there are still people out there that remember and celebrate Thanksgiving. And that is one of the things I'm thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
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Shattered Past Deep within the mind of a Toa, is the fragmentation of his forgotten past. Time rewinds, visions move away and there’s the unknown part of the mind known as the Dreamscape. This Toa is called Flaredrick, and he is in the laboratory of a Great Being. He came here to find out what truly happened to him in his past. 100,000 years ago in the city of Centurion lived a good hard working citizen. Then again everyone is hard working, but this matoran was special. He was always honest in and outside of work. He was wise, humble and forgiving. That Matoran’s name is Flaredrick, a lava harvester in the Fire district. There he made his living cleaning the pools of lava coming from a nearby volcano. He made sure no volcanic rocks were in the lava, for if there were, it would clog the pipes leading to the furnaces. Dusk falls in and now he heads in to fill his shift. He goes into the locker room to get his tools, when a co-worker calls him. “Flaredrick, good to see you’re still working as a harvester.” “Good to see you too Bazlth.” Flaredrick replies. Bazlth is Flaredricks’ best friend. They both work in the same department, but off work there’re a dynamic duo in disk throwing. They have won two championships in the games, and are still going strong as the best team in Centurion. Though unlike Flaredrick Bazlth can be a bit over confidante at times. He wears the standard Metru class armor like everyone, and wears a red Kanohi Kakama. “You still wear that same old red Hau.” Bazlth says in a deep tone. “Yes I still am. I mean there’re no dents, scars, or impracticalities with it.” “Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with it, but at least clean it once in a while.” Flaredrick looks in the mirror of his locker. He laughs a bit at the sight of his dirty Hau. He then begins wiping some of the dirt off, only realizing that it just made his mask dirtier. “If you don’t wash that mask, it’s going to break. Why don’t you just go get a new one?” “I would but I don’t have enough widgets.” Flaredrick says sarcastically. “Well you better go to your post or else you’re going to get fired. See you at the games Flaredrick.” He says leaving the locker room with his bag. Just as he is about to close his locker, he looks at a picture that he kept. He holds it in his hand, looking at it as if he had never seen it. It shows him, Bazlth, and 2 Ga-Matoran known as Seria and Keri. In it, they stand behind a school which reveals beautiful water scenery. He smiles, puts it back in his locker and locks it. Its night fall and Iron Wolves are howling in night. Flaredrick works his way across the lava pool, when he sees a large piece of volcanic rock in the middle of the pool. He stares at it, wondering how he didn’t see it earlier. He pulls out an extension cord to scoop up the large rock. Though as he tries to scoop up the rock, it will not go into the net. After several tries to pick up the rock, the pool starts to rumble. Suddenly more large rocks come up to the surface, the rumbling becomes more violent. Then a giant lava eel comes rocketing up, sending molten lava to fly in air. The eel lets out a loud roar which can be heard throughout the entire city. The eel stood over 40 feet tall, with a slimy skin covered in volcanic rock. Flaredrick wasn’t able to get away in time, for when the eel erupted from the pool it sent scorching lava at him. The mask was left pieces as it hit the floor, his armor melting into his tissue. He screams in agonizing pain, as he falls to the floor. Soon the guard arrives, firing every piece of weaponry at the monster. Medics arrive at the scene to take the injured out of the area. The scene begins to blur, his eyes begin to close. The sound of medical machinery can be heard. Soon the turaga, Zalxias, can be heard speaking with the medics. “His injuries are too severe for us to fix. The armor has melted some of the tissue, and there is a slim chance for him to survive his ordeals.” “There is only one person who can fix a matoran this badly wounded, see to it that he gets there.” Zalxias commands the medics. “It shall be done sir.” The medics quickly mount him on a terrain vehicle, and send him to the beings way. As the turaga sees his transport leaves, he looks at the shattered pieces of what is left of his Kanohi in his hands.
