Posts: 8,301 Species: Human. I'm pretty certain of that. Kanohi: Kanohi Bluglass, Mask of Anti-Glare Prescription Glasses Weapons and Equipment: Equipment: Flat caps. A wallet. A driving permit.
Weapons: I have an awesome katana on my wall.
The consciousness slowly came to realize it was somewhere else now. The cold, this cold was not the cold it knew. Not the bitter, heavy cold of its world. It lacked the subtle irony, the quiet unspoken sadism. It was a different cold, a different world entirely....or to be more accurate... ...worlds.
The consciousness sought to understand its surroundings, extending its mind to survey the stretch of reality it had formed upon. The reality was unfamiliar in tone....but in all truth it had known this place before. So long it had watched from this multiverse, forced away and bound in that bitter, cruel place it originated form. The consciousness felt a distinct sensation of relief, followed by a trickling excitement. It was here. It had...it had succeeded. A direct manifestation inside the alternate multiverse, and with this direct manifestation, it was no longer as connected to its home world, no longer as tied to all the unpleasantness there. The consciousness felt another glimmer of satisfaction, beginning to shift its mind to understand the area of the multiverse it had coalesced in.
And...right on schedule, right on time, and right on the point. The Subdimensional Core, the "origin" as the others in its home had called it. The small relief it had felt in arriving faded abruptly, replaced felt by the unfortunate familiarity of an irritated, toxic feeling. It cast its attentions downward expectantly, almost reflexively withdrawing away afterwards.
A vast, titanic entity rested below. The great and awful thing that had lain here in the beginning. The thing that hates. Even now the other consciousness could feel the thing's burning, foul "mind" flailing madly, like a blind, deaf child screaming for its sibling. The consciousness observed, with an anticipatory fear, the thing below writhing in horrid, blind misery. Pain.
Such a...peculiarly familiar sensation, the consciousness observed. In the other world, the cold world, the alien consciousness had served as nothing more than a shell, a receptacle of the sensation. A nascent thing, fed poison over and over and over until it learned how to derive sustenance from the poison.
But here...here was different.
The consciousness shivered, or did something similar, as the thing's foul mind wrapped around it. The pain, the misery, the absolute gleaming hatred shining through the foul mind....it reminded the consciousness of before.
And like before, the consciousness began to move, a familiar cold hunger raging within it's "body". Driven by the cold hunger, it opened its maw, drinking in the poison, shivering in its own pain as it fed. The thing, most unfortunately, did not seem to let up, the turmoil in the subdimension only raging on as if it did not even notice the small, gleaming entity in the midst of the dimension-wide expanse. It vocalized, a psychic scream echoing through the width of the dimension, tearing hairline fractures in the reality around, in the very space the two twin entities inhabited. The consciousness began to feel the familiar, hideously unpleasant sensation again, forcing its maw open wider, absorbing more of the seemingly endless madness and despair filling the airless void around. The feelings began to writhe inside the entity's body, and it vocalized too, letting out a gurgling, pitiful retching noise that was lost in the helpless fury of the other's roar. For another second, the feelings began to spark and pain flared inside the other's maw and then-
The entity slammed its maw shut, the burning embers of the other, screaming thing's despair tingling slightly within the dimensional mesh that made up the feeder's form. The consciousness began to consider this place, this core, and the foul beast that stayed here. So like the others in the other world, so full of hate and loathing...but unlike even them, it did not seem capable of other emotions, of any thought beyond a screaming, despairing hate that drove it about like a mad animal. A beast ruled by rage and emptiness.
A thing whose head was as empty as this void of a subdimension. The entity cast its consciousness about, trying to seek out any, any small corner at all the foul, empty mind did not hold domain over. For a single, terrible moment, no escape route seemed to present itself, and the consciousness had a terrible premonition of staying here forever, trapped beneath a foreign multiverse, its only "sustenance" this terrible foul thing and its infantile despair and rage. But the despair lasted but a moment, as the consciousness finally detected a small torn segment of the empty universe.
Slowly, the being drifted towards the gash, ignoring the giant mind's attempts to pull or poke at it. It was strong, strong indeed, but the new entity had already learned of pain. And this blind, screaming child was not yet strong enough to give it pause. The consciousness examined the gash momentarily, taking stock of the torn, rippling space that wreathed the single tear. A peculiar portal indeed....it almost looked like some small, circular object had torn its way through the skin of the universe. But regardless of peculiarity, the portal would serve its purpose.
It moved through the small portal, contorting to fit even as the foul being behind began slowly worming some of its smaller tendrils through the portal. Too slow to catch the fast little sprite. The consciousness felt a small ripple of satisfaction, that even weak and submissive as it was now, even now, it was still not helpless. It was not merely a blind, chained ghost like in the other world. It was stronger here...different.
Perhaps, thought the entity, this world's differences are bleeding into me. Perhaps this was why the cold things favored multiverses such as this one....the differences lent them their power, the power to change things, to bind things, to control.
But, thought the entity, they are not here, now are they? I am here.
And I am free.
Exorcised from the subdimension, the consciousness hovered in space, taking in the vast network of dimensions above, all around its ethereal body. So many, like bright little stars, each one with its own shine.
Shining like the stars of its own world, the bitter and cold one. But these were not like that world. They were different, each one, and even the darkest ones were still just a bit brighter than the cold world. The consciousness turned, its attention falling on a specific dimension, a short distance away.
....
....and with only the smallest hint of shame, the entity realized...
...it was hungering once more.
Interlude I: The Chalice, Born
There once lived a group of wise men, so powerful and so wise they were as gods. They built many great cities and devices, built people to live in them, and built a fantastical machine to study the stars themselves. But the wise men were not as wise as they thought themselves; in their hunger to create they neglected the created. A terrible war broke their planet apart, and in their shame and confusion the wise men fled, resolving to hide and watch and build in secret until their world had healed.
The wise men left many things behind; many tools and trinkets lost to time, in sealed vaults and hidden chambers. Any of these lost things could be a story of its own.
But on their broken world, they left something special. A machine with a heart of light.
*
The machine was made in the shape of a chalice. So fine and beautiful that any whose eye fell on it would desire to have it. And not just for its beauty. For you see, the wise men had become obsessed with creation. When the war first broke out, they did not emerge and seek to stop it, they created a race of machines to kill the warriors in hopes of ending the war.
So, when they had built the machine, they did not just build a simple artifact, no.
They made something that lived. Something with a core of rainbow lights and subtle thoughts, something that could take the ideas of others and bring them into being. They had thought of using it themselves, but the wise men loved to create so much they had sealed the machine away instead. For they had said to themselves; "Of what use have we of this, when we can build all we imagine with our own tools?"
But of course, not all beings shared this view.
Last Edit: Mar 24, 2023 17:40:32 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
The Director stared down at the red keypad for a second, head jerking up as the heavy doors slowly slid open, clanking as they did so. He exhaled once and slowly moved past the doors, into the second-level chamber beyond. A few Skakdi, Matori, and Steltians stood around the room, most of them staring nervously out the large transparent window that afforded a view of the third-level chamber beyond, cut off by yet another large set of doors. A set of four armed Skakdi in the typical AEGIS-grade black armor stood in front of the door, weapons held at the ready.
One of the scientists stepped towards the Director, nodding his head enthusiastically as if his superior's presence had just solved a number of problems. "Director, Director we are glad you came so quickly, some of us were getting a bit perturbed waiting for you-" The Steltian cut off abruptly, as the Director fixed him with a blank, empty stare. "Doctor. Please explain why you called a Level 3 code for this...incident you uncovered. I am a very busy person." The blank stare slowly died, as the Director faced the sealed door and its guards.
There was a sound of coughing behind him, and the Steltian managed to muster enough courage to speak again. "Our scout teams discovered an anomalous organism in Sector-7 Alpha. The organism was using some kind of cognitohazardous effect to eh, uh commence predation on a number of local individuals, who were native to a small village in Sector-7 Alpha."
The Director looked up, as if pondering something a moment. He raised a hand, gesturing as he spoke. "7 Alpha. That's near to the first place where the anomaly that called itself Vezon appeared. If I recall correctly, he accosted a nearby village for his protection racket." The black armored figure looked at the door, feeling the barest hint of frustration. They would have to deal with that insufferable thing and his vapid little gang eventually. "..."Vezon" aside, did you or the team deduce or get any hints as to why it was there? Why did it feel the need to feed on the local population?"
The Steltian did not reply. The Director paused, and turned around. Perhaps the doctor had not heard him-? But when he looked, he saw all of them, Skakdi and Steltians alike, were eerily silent. One of them tugged at the collar of his coat, and another coughed quietly. The Director cocked his head, and waved a hand at the silent group.
"Well? You did say it commenced in predatory activities against the locals, correct?"
"I-I-"
"Apologies sir." One of the scientists, a Onu-Matori, stepped forward and pulled at his labcoat. "...the team observed it...I am sorry, this is well, this entity's actions were highly irregular, especially for something of such..." He broke off and coughed, wiping his mask as if he was extremely perturbed.
The Director was silent, only waving a hand to continue. The Onu-Matori breathed deeply, and continued.
"The anomaly of course, should not have been alive. Aside for visual damage observed by the team, it possessed no vital signs any of our equipment could detect. A walking corpse if you will. But despite its seeming state, it demonstrated physical ability exceeding anything we have cataloged in any Toa or Glatorian-type being so far. It possessed physical strength equal to that of a Brutakan, or similar Titan-type race."
The Director moved slightly, towards the observation window, as the Matori continued. Perhaps a visual reference would be useful, to see this "terrifying undead anomaly" that had offput the research team so. He half-listened to the Matori as he walked, approaching the transparent, glasslike material.
"And the entity, the anomaly, displayed enhanced levels of aggression, almost on par with the Origin-Class Entity that we first observed. No brain, no mind we could detect, but it demonstrated extremely sadistic tendencies, ones that would normally only be found in beings that had gone extreme psychological torture conditioning, like the Chaos Legion, or had extremely unbalanced mental disorders. This thing had neither of those we could see, at least not a kind we could quantify."
The Onu-Matori trailed off, as he noticed the Director had moved to look out the window. "We had the team move it in here, and strap it in before reporting to isolation so they could be examined and purged of any mental or physical hazards. The thing, we just left it in there and waited-waited for you to arrive..."
The scientist stopped, as the Director stared down into the chamber below. It was the size of a medium room, with a variety of lights shining down at a flat metal table. On the table, a yellowish thing lay, twitching occasionally, and looking back up through the window. Looking right back at the Director.
The wet, organic mash of a head twisted slightly, moving upward as chunks of the spherical shaped "head" region shook from side to side. Black, vein-like tendrils protruded from every visible part of the humanoid, some of them coiling around the back of the thing's "head" to reabsorb and shore up its collapsing head.
The Director felt an unpleasantly familiar feeling in his chest. This thing of course, felt wrong in all the ways his logic centers indicated, and obviously was hazardous even if unintentionally. Something a bit more than that though, it was sapient of course, but it was looking at him. And its head movements...almost, he thought, like it was trying to smile.
He spoke, aware his voice was uneven and distracted as he called in the general direction of the researchers in the room.
"....call in another containment unit, and get anti-contamination suits."
"I want to greet our new friend here. Personally."
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
Posts: 8,301 Species: Human. I'm pretty certain of that. Kanohi: Kanohi Bluglass, Mask of Anti-Glare Prescription Glasses Weapons and Equipment: Equipment: Flat caps. A wallet. A driving permit.
Weapons: I have an awesome katana on my wall.
The Director stared down at the red keypad for a second, head jerking up as the heavy doors slowly slid open, clanking as they did so. He exhaled once and slowly moved past the doors, into the second-level chamber beyond. A few Skakdi, Matori, and Steltians stood around the room, most of them staring nervously out the large transparent window that afforded a view of the third-level chamber beyond, cut off by yet another large set of doors. A set of four armed Skakdi in the typical AEGIS-grade black armor stood in front of the door, weapons held at the ready.
One of the scientists stepped towards the Director, nodding his head enthusiastically as if his superior's presence had just solved a number of problems. "Director, Director we are glad you came so quickly, some of us were getting a bit perturbed waiting for you-" The Steltian cut off abruptly, as the Director fixed him with a blank, empty stare. "Doctor. Please explain why you called a Level 3 code for this...incident you uncovered. I am a very busy person." The blank stare slowly died, as the Director faced the sealed door and its guards.
There was a sound of coughing behind him, and the Steltian managed to muster enough courage to speak again. "Our scout teams discovered an anomalous organism in Sector-7 Alpha. The organism was using some kind of cognitohazardous effect to eh, uh commence predation on a number of local individuals, who were native to a small village in Sector-7 Alpha."
The Director looked up, as if pondering something a moment. He raised a hand, gesturing as he spoke. "7 Alpha. That's near to the first place where the anomaly that called itself Vezon appeared. If I recall correctly, he accosted a nearby village for his protection racket." The black armored figure looked at the door, feeling the barest hint of frustration. They would have to deal with that insufferable thing and his vapid little gang eventually. "..."Vezon" aside, did you or the team deduce or get any hints as to why it was there? Why did it feel the need to feed on the local population?"
The Steltian did not reply. The Director paused, and turned around. Perhaps the doctor had not heard him-? But when he looked, he saw all of them, Skakdi and Steltians alike, were eerily silent. One of them tugged at the collar of his coat, and another coughed quietly. The Director cocked his head, and waved a hand at the silent group.
"Well? You did say it commenced in predatory activities against the locals, correct?"
"I-I-"
"Apologies sir." One of the scientists, a Onu-Matori, stepped forward and pulled at his labcoat. "...the team observed it...I am sorry, this is well, this entity's actions were highly irregular, especially for something of such..." He broke off and coughed, wiping his mask as if he was extremely perturbed.
The Director was silent, only waving a hand to continue. The Onu-Matori breathed deeply, and continued.
"The anomaly of course, should not have been alive. Aside for visual damage observed by the team, it possessed no vital signs any of our equipment could detect. A walking corpse if you will. But despite its seeming state, it demonstrated physical ability exceeding anything we have cataloged in any Toa or Glatorian-type being so far. It possessed physical strength equal to that of a Brutakan, or similar Titan-type race."
The Director moved slightly, towards the observation window, as the Matori continued. Perhaps a visual reference would be useful, to see this "terrifying undead anomaly" that had offput the research team so. He half-listened to the Matori as he walked, approaching the transparent, glasslike material.
"And the entity, the anomaly, displayed enhanced levels of aggression, almost on par with the Origin-Class Entity that we first observed. No brain, no mind we could detect, but it demonstrated extremely sadistic tendencies, ones that would normally only be found in beings that had gone extreme psychological torture conditioning, like the Chaos Legion, or had extremely unbalanced mental disorders. This thing had neither of those we could see, at least not a kind we could quantify."
The Onu-Matori trailed off, as he noticed the Director had moved to look out the window. "We had the team move it in here, and strap it in before reporting to isolation so they could be examined and purged of any mental or physical hazards. The thing, we just left it in there and waited-waited for you to arrive..."
The scientist stopped, as the Director stared down into the chamber below. It was the size of a medium room, with a variety of lights shining down at a flat metal table. On the table, a yellowish thing lay, twitching occasionally, and looking back up through the window. Looking right back at the Director.
The wet, organic mash of a head twisted slightly, moving upward as chunks of the spherical shaped "head" region shook from side to side. Black, vein-like tendrils protruded from every visible part of the humanoid, some of them coiling around the back of the thing's "head" to reabsorb and shore up its collapsing head.
The Director felt an unpleasantly familiar feeling in his chest. This thing of course, felt wrong in all the ways his logic centers indicated, and obviously was hazardous even if unintentionally. Something a bit more than that though, it was sapient of course, but it was looking at him. And its head movements...almost, he thought, like it was trying to smile.
He spoke, aware his voice was uneven and distracted as he called in the general direction of the researchers in the room.
"....call in another containment unit, and get anti-contamination suits."
"I want to greet our new friend here. Personally."
"...it demonstrated extremely sadistic tendencies, ones that would normally only be found in beings that had gone extreme psychological torture conditioning, like the Chaos Legion..."
OOC Improbus: Aaaaaaaand...?
OOC Glacies: Don't interrupt the story.
Come! Come and listen, my friends. Listen as I regale you with the next chapter in the legend of the Bionicle.
"According to research it was extremely verbose, albeit in a most violent manner, upon retrieval and prior to that. It only went silent several hours after we locked it in the chamber."
"How, or what, was it vocalizing then? Any commonality between vocalizations?"
"....yes. It seemed to be fixated on....it seemed to be fixated on mutilating and attacking any living thing it encountered while it was wandering."
"...did it state a reason for doing so?"
"Apologies sir, we already had three of the team sent to medical isolation for injury. We were not keen on further antagonizing the...the entity."
"...."
"..."
"...alright then. I trust you took scans and samples of its physiological makeup? Did anyone get Verification down here to analyze its mental signature?"
"We did take samples...it appeared to act appeased, albeit in a very odd manner, while being analyzed. It reacted violently to the idea of Verification arriving, broke the restraints and assaulted the drones and observing technician in the room."
"....I see. I think I'll sit in on this-actually no."
"Sir?"
"This big bad, rotted mess killed a technician and broke three of our men? It's demonstrably hostile, and we don't need to risk any unneeded lives. I'll personally take this one."
"...sir, are you absolutely sure-?"
"Yes. Now call another security team and have them on standby, and open the first layer of doors. If this thing can still talk, I'm going to have a nice little conversation with it. Regardless of its opinion on talking."
****
The Director stood across from the examination table, looking neutrally at the occupant wriggling ontop it. He waited, silently, for the thing to notice his presence, and sure enough a moment later-
-it stopped moving, and the body slowly coiled upward, to look-at least, face him. He exhaled once, and nodded in the direction of the now still creature.
"Can you understand me? Can you hear what I am saying to you...?" He trailed off, pondering to himself a moment and moving his metallic shoulders in a manner that suggested his suit was "shrugging". "And they said you were so talkative before...."
He waited another moment, cognizant the thing on the table's only reply was still silence. The armored figure sighed deeply, and shook his head.
"We have all day. And all week after that. We can stay here as long as you wish, until you answer." He smiled thinly under his armored garb.
His thin smile faded a moment later, as his interviewee finally spoke. A wretched, pitiful voice, almost like an Rahi's keening.
"Where-where....where did you take me? Where am I?"
The Director cocked his head to one side, as he noted the thing's pulpy, misshapen orb of a head was moving now, curving up and to the sides as if it was straining to look around. He moved toward it, raising a hand as if to calm the struggling being. "Be calm. You were in a terrible accident. You are in a safe environment, and you will recover in time." He briefly looked over the thing's head as he spoke, managing not to choke on his words.
The thing's entire face...well, face wasn't the correct term. From far, it had already seemed horrid, but up close...
It was a putrid, stinking ruin, like a mass of liquid and rotted stuff, somehow, impossibly stuck together. As he stared, the Director saw a bit of its head drip onto the table, only to slowly seep backwards into the head once more. He coughed once. Time, sure. Perhaps a thousand years. Or never.
The thing coughed, wet, dark fluid dribbling out of a space in its pulped mash of a head."W-wuh-with my f-friends. Village, in the...in the wastes. Skakdi...the Skakdi broke my head into...smashed me.."
The Director stared impassively at the yellow form, lowering his voice slightly so as to sound more approachable, a tad less demanding and more reassuring. He raised a hand too, outstretched toward the captive in a similarly reassuring gesture.
"Do you remember anything after the accident? We need to know more about what happened, so we can help you." The yellow creature coughed again, dark fluid dribbling from its pulpy "head", turning to sort of face the Director. It started to make a sound, like a warbling cry, before cutting off again into another cough. "P-puh-please. P-please...nuh-need to tuh-tell them so-something-"
The Director remained where he was, concern starting to rise within him as the warped yellow figure leaned as far upward as its restraints would allow, looking at him with its broken, mashed face.
"Tuh-t-tell them I want to hurt them. Peel them like Rahi meat. Hang them, play with their bones and skin and metal-flesh and sunder the masks from their pure little faces-!" The voice was high, almost a shriek, as the rotted, fouled body strained suddenly. The words became a shout, and a shout became a scream as it rose, snapping the restraints on its limbs as if they were nothing. The foul, mash of a head turned, and the Director became aware it was moving now. Writhing, like some terrible mass of dark insects inside were squirming to get out. It slowly raised its head, and he became dimly aware that, if it had had any feature to its face...
...he could've sworn it was smiling.
And a second later, the Director felt his heart rate triple as the being leaped at him, its keening cry drowning the alarms and the panicked yells of the teams and researchers outside.
He threw a punch, wildly and blindly. The armored fist caved a wicked gash in the side of the hideous abomination, unidentifiable fluids gushing out over the Director and his suit, as the keening cry rose into an even louder wail.
The Director stumbled backward, only realizing after a moment or two the creature was no longer screaming.
It was laughing.
Last Edit: Mar 23, 2023 18:48:58 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
The Director faintly heard the sound of his title being called, echoing out repetitively through his head. Like some Psi-Toa, he thought. Psi-Toa psionically implying him to rise up, to wake up, to be the "psi-lvation" of whatever situation would be plaguing him now. He blinked behind the armored mask, thoughts faintly twisting in his head. He didn't want to wake up, to rise up. He wanted to lay down and sleep...he was so tired...
Couldn't...couldn't this wait? "Mmmmm...'Mmm b'sy....mm busy....go way..go way..." His own voice sounded blurred, fading and feeble. He slowly slumped over, waiting, praying, for the calm, peaceful darkness to move over him, to blind and deliver him into peace. The only peace, the only peace they would be allowed to have in this pathetic, hellish world-
"Terminus. Terminus wake up. For the love of God, Mata Nui, anyone. Please, wake up."
His red eyes snapped open. Terminus. His...his name. Not Tyral, not Director...Terminus. Realization flooded back into his mind, like an electric shot running through his body. "K-Koll?" The Director strained to get up, but his own strength was too feeble to overcome the suit's. It must have lost power, he thought. Powerless and pinned by my own creation. Oh the irony. He turned to face the eyeslits of his masks, peeled back by the emergency suit protocols. Sure enough, Marius Koll stared down, concern and fear flickering through his normally calm face. Koll, seeming to notice the activity, yelled at someone Terminus couldn't see, waving his hands rapidly.
"Brother, are you well?" Koll tapped the head armor, nodding slowly as he seemed to note the Director's now opened eyes again. "Are you well, any injuries you can feel?" Terminus coughed, strained against his armor again, and moved his head to nod, or at least make a motion similar to that. "I'm fine. Why-why are you here Doctor? I thought you were stationed at New Atero-?" Koll shook his head and gestured again, more frantic this time. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Director. I would have come sooner but the alert didn't go through properly the first time." Terminus felt an unpleasant prickling feeling in his gut, swallowing once before speaking.
"Threat level report. Wh-what threat is being declared?" Koll was silent, slowly shaking his head and reaching for something. "I'm sorry, I...Black. Threat Level Black." Terminus' eyes bulged and he writhed again, momentarily forgetting he was still entombed below a mass of unpowered armor. "Karzahni! Karzahni, Karzahni, Karzahni! It was that yellow thing, wasn't it? Did it cause a containment breach, invade New Atero, what?!"
Koll coughed, reaching for something and muttering thanks to another group the Director could not see. "Hold still a minute, I'm going to cut you out of there. He moved the object down towards the armor, and the sound of machinery ensued, Terminus falling silent and still, waiting a moment.
A moment later, fresh air rushed into his lungs as the once-entombing armor fell away, neatly severed in two. The Director jerked upright, breathing deeply and nodding at Koll. "Alright. I'm up now. What is the situation, what assets do we still have, and what measures do we have?"
"It...the entity broke through the chamber. Started touching every staff member it could find. We don't know what it did but...but they are acting like it now. Beating to death or tearing up everything they could find. They were corralled into the lower levels by guards, sealed off before they could reach containment. A whole block, just to contain them..." Koll broke off, and looked down the hall. "We lost half our guardsmen, the machines the Vortixx made for us are keeping the line, and Project Glaive is 99% complete. What's left of the Subcommand Council is considering putting out a call to Atero-"
Terminus spat, rising slowly to his feet. "Atero. What will they do, send a hundred Toa from their army to die uselessly? Or no, send those petulant, childish fools, their "Vanguard" to ruin all we still have, and denounce us as "villains to be stopped". Or perhaps they'll do what they're best at, and leave us rotting in the wake of our one failure as easily as they would leave these monsters dead." Koll shook his head fervently in reply, voice ragged and tired.
"I don't think we can do this alone, Director."
Terminus hissed, closing his eyes and cradling his throbbing head in his hands. "Look at it this way; they know nothing about us, and they'd hate or mistrust us if they did. If we are in need of their help...then we've already lost." He paused a moment, torn momentarily, and then sighed.
".....get a call ready, pre-recorded, to New Atero. If we cannot stop this...then, and only then, will the call go through. If we cannot stop this, Mata Nui help me....the Vanguard will be the only ones left to call."
Last Edit: Mar 23, 2023 19:29:36 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
No, no that wasn't right. There was no light....not here...what was...going on..?
Rahzahkea's eyes snapped open, the Toa feeling a rush of cold run over his body. He blinked, once, then twice, and then rubbed his eyes. Wait. I can...feel my eyes. He sat upright, looking down at his hands. Rahzahkea focused a moment-and the tips of his fingers bent back, just like they did when he activated the little "claws" that Karz'ing freak Kiyara had given him. So. He was...well alive?
The Psi-Toa started slightly, putting a hand to his Kanohi. He was alive. Or, at least in a state where he was physical. He blinked again. This was a most unforeseen development.
His gaze strayed upward for but a second, and his heart jumped in his chest. Rahzahkea was sitting on a mass of gray, sandy ground. It was cold, slightly, more like ash than actual sand, and with a distinct smoky scent that only made it less pleasant to be close to.
The Toa rose, staring at the ground for a moment before looking back up. So. He was back here. On Axia. "My home," he muttered sourly, scanning the horizon for any trace of life or civilization.
The Tower stood, spiraling up into the horizon, into the sky above like a gargantuan cosmic pillar of sorts. It simply stood there, black surface shining in the dim, gray light of the desert sands. Rahzahkea stared at it for a full minute, stunned into silence, before finally moving, walking toward the Tower, shoulders squared and eyes narrowed.
He stopped at the door, kicking it futilely with a foot and yelling into the cold air. "Whoever you are, Wrathbringer or Genesis or Torok or something-show yourself! You can't hurt me with memories, not anymore you can't! I walked through the fires of the apocalypse, I walked with my brothers and sisters of the Vanguard! We prevailed! We won-we....we...."
The sensation of coldness wraps itself around his neck, and Rahzahkea sinks to his knees slowly, staring at the sandy ground. They hadn't won. They had only thought so, so that sadistic, idiot child could attack and steal any trace of victory from them. The universe could not be content, not with a single spark of hope that resisted its crushing grip. They failed and he died and they were all going to die, die, die-
He stopped himself mid-thought, slowly releasing the clumps of sand gathered in his hands and covering his face. Rahzahkea breathed deeply, in and out, trying vainly to calm himself. He closed his eyes, counted to three, and opened them-
- to see a pair of bright, ruby-hued eyes staring back at him.
'Kea jumped, scrambling backward as he jabbed a finger at the unwelcome, and painfully familiar visitor. "Oh no. Oh no no no, you, you died. We spent a milennia staring at each other's decaying corpses until you fell to dust and I got better. How are-how are you still here?"
The ruby red eyes flickered shut as the golden Toa smiled at him, almost innocuously. Kirathel sighed, slowly turning away from him to lay a hand on the door to the Tower's interior. "Ah, Rahzahkea. Always the literalist. Always the idealist. Always the one believing in Order's supremacy despite all evidence to the contrary." She glanced at him over her shoulder, tilting her hips and grinning slightly. One golden finger struck against the door, tracing an unseeable pattern as she sighed again. "You always were the more dreamy of us two."
Rahzahkea frowned sourly, standing to his feet and brushing dust off his armor. "Well, if you're saying you're the realist of this duo, then I'd say that's a rather generous term. Pscyhopathic, murderous sycophant would be a better one I'd say." Kirathel giggled, one metallic finger tapping against her chin almost bashfully.
"Are you finally acknowledging our connection then, dearest nemesis of mine?" 'Kea stared at her blankly, for a moment, shaking his head and grunting noncommittally. "I have no such connection to you like Shadus and Sylah, or even Vashari and that nonentity he keeps mentioning he was betrothed to or something. I'm cordial to you only because we happen to be corraled in this ridiculous postmortem dreamrealm together, and I'd rather pass it in sniping and veiled insults rather than in a pointless physical battle which would never result in anything conducive to our escape."
He stepped back sharply, as a loud cracking noise rang out. Kira' turned to face the door again, as the massive black substance slowly peeled to the side, revealing a long, high-tech looking silver hall. The Psi-Toa frowned, stepping forward and then a half-step back as he stared down into the familiar locale. "This...this isn't the tower..what is this?"
Kirathel smiled again, the smile stretching her mask-face until Rahzahkea could see the full length of her entire maw, twisted into a mischievous grin.
"You said memories couldn't hurt you Rahzahkea."
"I just want to make sure, that you were telling the truth."
Interlude II: Dark Paths, Untaken
One day, a loathsome creature came to the place the chalice was hidden. He desired to possess it himself, for his mind was full of darkness and he wished to fill the world with that darkness.
Now, this creature was at war. At war with many others, but none so important as the knights of a nearby city. He hated them especially, for them were unlike him. Though many had natures of darkness, they sought justice and peace, rather than domination and power. So, the moment the dark creature possessed the chalice he could not even think to use it for his own gain.
He could only think to use it against the knights.
*
The dark creature went to the city and perched atop a great tower. There he waited, until one of the knights came to that place. She was weakest among her fellows, warped and small and full of bitterness. The dark creature spoke to her. "I have attained the powers of the gods," he boasted. "Shall you take of this chalice and drink as well? Or shall you be as small and miserable as you are forever?"
Then the creature laughed wickedly. "Decide, lest I drown your friends in the light that shines from it."
A dark shepherd appeared then and spoke in opposition to the creature. "Listen not to him, for his cause is blind and he wanders alone. Speak instead for mine. For I will give you good purpose and cause, and creatures like in shape that you might work with." His tone was smooth and pleasant, though his tongue barbed. For he was as wicked as the first, but in the great war opposed the creature's victory as much as he opposed the victory of the knights.
The knight heard both speak and trembled, inasmuch for fear of these creatures as uncertainty. But she remained and replied as best she could. "Surely I shall not be as you, for warped I might be, I am not the monster you are. Neither shall I join your cause, for I desire salvation and not torment."
The dark creature roared in rage, and the shepherd struck him. In his anger, the creature drank of the chalice, and drank, and drank, and drank. And in its consuming light he was devoured and vanished from their view. In the chaos the knight fled, to rejoin her comrades.
And then an angel came to the tower.
Last Edit: Mar 24, 2023 17:41:13 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
Posts: 8,301 Species: Human. I'm pretty certain of that. Kanohi: Kanohi Bluglass, Mask of Anti-Glare Prescription Glasses Weapons and Equipment: Equipment: Flat caps. A wallet. A driving permit.
Weapons: I have an awesome katana on my wall.
No, no that wasn't right. There was no light....not here...what was...going on..?
Rahzahkea's eyes snapped open, the Toa feeling a rush of cold run over his body. He blinked, once, then twice, and then rubbed his eyes. Wait. I can...feel my eyes. He sat upright, looking down at his hands. Rahzahkea focused a moment-and the tips of his fingers bent back, just like they did when he activated the little "claws" that Karz'ing freak Kiyara had given him. So. He was...well alive?
The Psi-Toa started slightly, putting a hand to his Kanohi. He was alive. Or, at least in a state where he was physical. He blinked again. This was a most unforeseen development.
His gaze strayed upward for but a second, and his heart jumped in his chest. Rahzahkea was sitting on a mass of gray, sandy ground. It was cold, slightly, more like ash than actual sand, and with a distinct smoky scent that only made it less pleasant to be close to.
The Toa rose, staring at the ground for a moment before looking back up. So. He was back here. On Axia. "My home," he muttered sourly, scanning the horizon for any trace of life or civilization.
The Tower stood, spiraling up into the horizon, into the sky above like a gargantuan cosmic pillar of sorts. It simply stood there, black surface shining in the dim, gray light of the desert sands. Rahzahkea stared at it for a full minute, stunned into silence, before finally moving, walking toward the Tower, shoulders squared and eyes narrowed.
He stopped at the door, kicking it futilely with a foot and yelling into the cold air. "Whoever you are, Wrathbringer or Genesis or Torok or something-show yourself! You can't hurt me with memories, not anymore you can't! I walked through the fires of the apocalypse, I walked with my brothers and sisters of the Vanguard! We prevailed! We won-we....we...."
The sensation of coldness wraps itself around his neck, and Rahzahkea sinks to his knees slowly, staring at the sandy ground. They hadn't won. They had only thought so, so that sadistic, idiot child could attack and steal any trace of victory from them. The universe could not be content, not with a single spark of hope that resisted its crushing grip. They failed and he died and they were all going to die, die, die-
He stopped himself mid-thought, slowly releasing the clumps of sand gathered in his hands and covering his face. Rahzahkea breathed deeply, in and out, trying vainly to calm himself. He closed his eyes, counted to three, and opened them-
- to see a pair of bright, ruby-hued eyes staring back at him.
'Kea jumped, scrambling backward as he jabbed a finger at the unwelcome, and painfully familiar visitor. "Oh no. Oh no no no, you, you died. We spent a milennia staring at each other's decaying corpses until you fell to dust and I got better. How are-how are you still here?"
The ruby red eyes flickered shut as the golden Toa smiled at him, almost innocuously. Kirathel sighed, slowly turning away from him to lay a hand on the door to the Tower's interior. "Ah, Rahzahkea. Always the literalist. Always the idealist. Always the one believing in Order's supremacy despite all evidence to the contrary." She glanced at him over her shoulder, tilting her hips and grinning slightly. One golden finger struck against the door, tracing an unseeable pattern as she sighed again. "You always were the more dreamy of us two."
Rahzahkea frowned sourly, standing to his feet and brushing dust off his armor. "Well, if you're saying you're the realist of this duo, then I'd say that's a rather generous term. Pscyhopathic, murderous sycophant would be a better one I'd say." Kirathel giggled, one metallic finger tapping against her chin almost bashfully.
"Are you finally acknowledging our connection then, dearest nemesis of mine?" 'Kea stared at her blankly, for a moment, shaking his head and grunting noncommittally. "I have no such connection to you like Shadus and Sylah, or even Vashari and that nonentity he keeps mentioning he was betrothed to or something. I'm cordial to you only because we happen to be corraled in this ridiculous postmortem dreamrealm together, and I'd rather pass it in sniping and veiled insults rather than in a pointless physical battle which would never result in anything conducive to our escape."
He stepped back sharply, as a loud cracking noise rang out. Kira' turned to face the door again, as the massive black substance slowly peeled to the side, revealing a long, high-tech looking silver hall. The Psi-Toa frowned, stepping forward and then a half-step back as he stared down into the familiar locale. "This...this isn't the tower..what is this?"
Kirathel smiled again, the smile stretching her mask-face until Rahzahkea could see the full length of her entire maw, twisted into a mischievous grin.
"You said memories couldn't hurt you Rahzahkea."
"I just want to make sure, that you were telling the truth."
OOC Improbus: Hey, Kirathel and I could be ship buddies!
OOC Cannoneer: This is getting out of hand. Now there are two of them!
Come! Come and listen, my friends. Listen as I regale you with the next chapter in the legend of the Bionicle.
A long time ago, the yellow Glatorian had had a real name. He had had friends, a community, an entire life built out of the poverty and insignificance of the Wastes. And insignificant it had been, it had also been happy. He had been happy. He had been content to live out his life there forever if need be, with the people he'd cared about.
But no. Of course not. Of course fate had to intervene.
So the smiling Skakdi had come, and slain him over a point, to prove how serious he was. And the happy life was gone in an instant, and-
-and now, they were here.
The yellow Glatorian looked up at the translucent, box-shaped cell in front of him, placing a dirty, bloodstained palm on the surface. His warped, pulpy head twisted as a smile split the broken mouth in two. The Glatorian's dull, black eyes stared into the red, cold eyes before him.
"Hello, dear Irnakk."
The Golden Skinned Being sat inside the cell, unmoving and unresponsive. The numerous cables and devices attached to his massive golden form glowed, whirring loudly as if they could sense the dark things lurking outside of the cell. The Glatorian cackled, turning his head to address another of his fellows, a twisted mess of a Toa. "Have you found the other one? The idiot's pawn?"
The Toa smiled, her three sets of teeth shining in the artificial light above. "Sssilly little perssons hid him in the ssshiny walls." The Toa hummed, three tongues licking persistently at the gashes around her mask, and looked up. The Glatorian followed her gaze, smiling toothily at the glass wall of the control room above.
Inside, a group of technicians looked down, smiling so widely even the yellow Glatorian could see the light refracting off their torn, ragged jaws. The head of the group stepped forward, waving his arms at the others, as they began moving about in the control booth, hitting buttons and pressing keys.
The Glatorian and the tri-mouthed Toa turned again, facing the glasslike case with Irnakk inside. A sound slowly rose from inside, a loud clanging beep, as the cables and tubes tied and wrapped around Irnakk began to slacken. The two observers held their breath, inching closer as the case as the cables slackened and fell limply on the ground.
The Toa hissed slightly, tongues licking more fervently, and the Glatorian smiled.
"Wakey wakey, golden one."
The Glatorian placed his hand on the case, slowly and deliberately. "We would have words with your-"
A monstrous thudding noise echoes throughout the halls, and the two creatures recoiled violently, falling to the floor. The Glatorian looked up, a kind of reverence coming into his eyes, as he stared at the massive, titanic form of Irnakk rise to his feet. The Golden being's hand was on the "glass" of the cell, his red, slanted eyes glaring down as if he was beholding nothing more than an insect. Irnakk let out a sound, a low, cold sigh.
The Glatorian shut his mouth, trembling as he slowly rose to a sitting position. He looked at Irnakk, mouth moving silently for a moment, before he could finally make words again. "Hello, dear Irnakk." He rose to his feet, placing a palm on his rotted, yellow-armored chest. "I am a servitor of a party quite interested in you. Your power, your thoughts, what you can do...for us."
He swept his hands to the side, waving at the rest of the hall, at the other cells and their inhabitants. "Look around you, Irnakk. You are a god, a god whose power is yet unchallenged by any in this world, a power that even through the multiverse is feared and worshipped." The Glatorian lowered his hands, slowly turning his gaze downward as if disappointed.
"But you are here. You are bound and held by these motes of dust, these mortal things who could not hold you...they do not deserve you." The Glatorian felt the cold in him rise, and he put a hand on the case again, twitching violently, shaking almost. "You...you don't deserve to be here. You should be free. We can set you free. All you need to do...all you need to do is grant one little wish for us."
The Glatorian trembled again, falling to his knees and splaying his hands over the case. He breathed heavily, looking almost pleadingly at the golden titan inside the cell. "One wish. Grant us one thing, and we can set you free. We can give you what they hold over you to keep you captive. We can set you free!"
The sound of Irnakk's fist striking the wall echoed out again, the Glatorian recoiling violently and sprawling against the ground. He looked up, seeing the massive titan slowly sink to his knees and look down at the ground. Irnakk let out a sound, like a hollow, dead laugh. "Fools. All of you." He looked up, raising a golden hand and jabbing it toward the control booth. "All of you!"
Irnakk slumped, eyes flitting open and shut lazily. "Fools. I see you. I see what you serve. That perfidious, slippery monster in the shadows. Torturing and swallowing all those too small for others to see." He slowly laughed, shaking his reptilian head. "I know what you people are. I know what you want, the dream you desire."
He raised a hand, pointing at the case. "You think I couldn't leave? You think I couldn't fight their monster god, pierce the shell they bound me in, and leave? Perhaps I could, perhaps they would find a way to stop me, perhaps they would "manipulate" me into staying." Irnakk laughed again, long and low. "But rest assured...I see the dream your master holds..."
"...and by Mata Nui I will be dead before I bring it to fruition."
The Glatorian trembled, shaking with a mix of terror and disbelief. "You...you...you would rather be dead...than bring us our dream? Our heaven!?" He roared, or tried to (the sound was more like a wet shriek), stumbling to his feet and screaming at Irnakk. "We did this for you! We killed them to save you! Their bodies are twisted by your measure, to deliver you to freedom and deliver us to heaven!" He focused, concentrating all his willpower on that image, on the picture of heaven the master had told him of. "You are a thing of dreams! You cannot resist what dreams are around you, you must bring them to being, you must, you must-"
He stopped speaking, aware suddenly of the sound of distant footsteps growing louder and closer. The sound of screaming and roars of hate echoed out, and the Glatorian turned to look at the distant control room room window. The shapes of his fellows were visible, writhing and struggling against a number of other Toa, yelling and charging in with weapons flaring and swords flashing. The Glatorian turned back to Irnakk, desperation growing.
He slammed his fists on the case, banging again and again as the footsteps grew louder. "You have to! You are dreams incarnate, stupid golden fool, your powers will never be able to block my dream, our dream from becoming true! You will bring it to reality, you will feed, you have no choice!"
His fists struck the case again and again, as he heard the three-mouthed Toa spawn rise, shrieking something about guards closing in, about mission failure. It passed through his torn up ears like it was nothing, as the yellow Glatorian stared blankly, hopelessly, at Irnakk, at the titan's massive teeth shining in a giant wicked grin. He kept staring, as a beam of energy screamed behind his head, severing the three-mouthed Toa in two smoking, writhing pieces. He kept staring as the team of Skrall guards charged in, decontaminant gas spraying over his tortured, torn body and withering it yet further.
The Glatorian kept staring, pale gray tears sliding down his face as the first guard charged him from the side, raising a baton to strike. The yellow Glatorian sputtered, a final sentence escaping his mouth.
"But...how... Borom...Borom made you disappear-"
There was a resounding crack, as the golden titan's fist shattered the "glass" wall, drowning out the cries and screams of the guards for backup. The Glatorian stared blankly on, stared as Irnakk's massive body loomed above his own, his bright red eyes shining like small dots of blood. In the background, the Glatorian was dimly aware of his former compatriot crawling futiley toward the guards, who were already retreating down the hall, screaming over their radios for help. But he didn't move, didn't even react, just stared into the red eyes, as Irnakk's laughter filled the hall.
Slowly Irnakk's jaws opened, daggerlike teeth shining in the dull light of the hall-lights above. The yellow Glatorian looked on, almost enraptured, barely noticing the fixture above as it sputtered and died pitiably. The two red lights shone on as the maw stretched out, impossibly far. Teeth jutted from the ceiling above and floor, one poking the Glatorian's foot slightly as it rose from the metal substance. He looked down, just for a moment, looking up at the two burning red lights, suddenly moving far closer.
As a distinct sensation of pinching began to pervade his body, the Glatorian heard the titan utter a final phrase, almost a whisper.
"But you're not Borom, are you?"
....
crunch
Last Edit: Mar 23, 2023 19:31:03 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
Rahzahkea looked up at the translucent, window-like formation on the Tower's wall, furrowing his brow as he studied the limp rusted chains, drifting innocuously as if suspended in jelly. "....if this is the memory you think was going to cause me such grief Kirathel....I think you'll need to try again."
Kirathel looked at him pityingly, and shook her head slightly. "Silly Rahzahkea, this memory isn't yours, it's your friends. They came to this segment of the Tower to try and save us, remember?" Rahzahkea looked at her blankly, and the golden creature shrugged casually. "I'd think you remember your first end of the world scenario." 'Kea looked at her a full minute, finally sighing in irritation and throwing his hands into the air.
"Of that "end of the world scenario", I spent most of it stuck in a dead, grey desert. With you. I never saw any of this rotted tower aside from a brief glimpse of the inside, and then boom. Desert time." He glances cynically at Kirathel. "If we're showing memories designed to "hurt" me, why not actually choose a hurtful one? You know, Shard dying, Sylah nearly going mad due to your machinations, literally anything from our homeworld?"
His voice cracks on the last part of the sentence, and Rahzahkea turns to fix his gaze back on the wall, forcing down his emotions. This is no place to get angry, not in this mad mindscape-afterlife-combo, with his oldest enemy right beside you. Wait, be patient. You'll get out of this, and then you can cry your eyes out or rip buildings apart in rage. Wait.
Rahzahkea realizes his breaths have quickened over the past minute, rising to a point he is almost hyperventilating. He coughs, beating a fist against his chest to stamp out the noise and appear a bit stronger than he feels. The Toa shoots a quick glance over to Kirathel, just to see what she's been doing during his little distraction....
...oddly enough, she seems to have been remained silent during that episode. 'Kea looks at her, raising a hand and waving it as if to make sure she's still awake. Slowly, the golden figure turns her head and smiles serenely at Rahzahkea, extending a hand toward him. "You're right. Forgive my silly little distraction. Let's move on-"
Kirathel's fingers latch onto Rahzahkea's arm, and before he can move to stop her she is moving, all but dragging him off as she runs toward the side of the room. Rahzahkea, initially too stunned to react, finally digs in his heels and come to a halt, struggling to break her ironlike grip on his arm. "What are-what are you doing you psychotic-"
Kirathel laughs, skipping backward once more. Rahzahkea's grip on the ground breaks, and he flies along with her, as the very wall of the Tower behind Kirathel erodes to dust, and then...
...they go through it.
Rahzahkea stumbles around, scrambling to his feet and looking around. Karz no, he thought coldly, as his eyes cleared enough for the area around to finally register in his mind. This place again.
Once again, he was in the "desert". It looked just like before, a massive, nearly flat and static plain of gray sand. Dead clouds stared down from the skies above, and the very air around him was cold and empty. Rahzahkea gritted his teeth, moving his fists up and shifting into a combat stance. "Where are you hiding, Kirathel!? This is pointless! You couldn't kill me when we were in here, and you won't kill me now-"
"Aw, poor Rahzahkea."
The voice echoes all around, and Rahzahkea turns in a loose circle, flailing to keep stable while scanning every possible location for his foe's encroachment. He finally stops cold, seeing the telltale golden armor shining in the dull light of the desert, about a foot away. He feels his body tense up again, as she slowly turns toward him.
Kirathel smiles faintly, spreading her arms and bowing her head slightly. "I said the memories were gonna hurt, right? What better place to hurt you..."
Her head raises slightly, the smile draining from her face as her arms fall to her sides. "....than our home?"
Rahzahkea feels the air drain out of him, for a moment, and he lowers his arms as well.
"This, again? Come now, Kirathel." He raises a hand, waving it around at the sands. "This was not my doing. Or, if I am to be absolutely fair...not wholly mine." He moves his hand, levelling a finger at her. "Call me a tyrant if you want, but this was neither my intent nor my desire. This world is dead because the beast of fire and hate crawled in. You can curse me for letting it in, and I can curse you for the same, but this gets us nowhere."
Rahzahkea smiles tiredly, shrugging. "Ultimately, my hatred of you, and your hatred of me, will not bring back anything we lost. So you can drop the act, Kirathel. If you really can alter this "afterworld", why waste it on your hatred?" His smile drops, and the Psi-Toa closes his eyes, exhaling hard. "There's nothing more you can do. My friends are...my friends are dying, and I cannot save them myself. But if all this worthless trial does is drag us here..."
He smiles, sadly and emptily. "...if..if that is it, then it won't be so bad. Our world has others that can rise and be heroes. Our world will go on, and even if it doesn't....at least I won't be alone."
To his surprise, Kirathel falls silent. She laughs, once, slowly raising a gold-plated hand into the air.
"Rahzahkea.....you never learned anything all those years did you? You might be done with the past, if you are actually believe your own spiel..."
"...but we..."
"..are not done with you."
Rahzahkea feels a spike of panic running through him, just like the sudden horror before he felt his neck break a few minutes ago. He runs, full tilt toward Kirathel, not fully understanding or planning what he is doing. Only knowing that somehow, someway, he has to stop her.
The sound of Kirathel's fingers snapping echoes through the desert.
Interlude III: Angel's Heart, Resplendent
The angel flew to the top of the tower, wings shining in the sun. Her eyes fell on the chalice and her heart coveted it. "What do you bear, shepherd?" She asked. "What do you desire from it?"
"I desire not from it," the dark shepherd spoke. "But do you, oh luminous light? Shall you drink and ascend your throne above the heavens?"
The shepherd looked down and spoke again. "Behold, your enemy approaches. Surely he wishes to strike you down."
And below a second knight appeared, racing to the tower. He came in pursuit of his comrade, though in truth he desired to slay the angel more than save anyone. The angel looked down and laughed, and said to the shepherd. "See, I will give you the first knight. She is weak and cannot decide, so I will give you her and you will give me the chalice."
The dark shepherd thought on this and thought it good, and gave the angel the chalice. And she stretched out her hand and struck down the second knight, and bent the mind of the first toward the dark shepherd. Then she took and drank and desired.
She desired a godhood above her own, and to possess the chalice itself. And she desired that chaos might reign forever.
And she drank.
And the chalice broke, and the shards of it buried themselves in her wicked heart.
*
The dark shepherd departed, and sought his wicked plans alongside his soldiers. The first and second knights rejoined their friends, and though broken they persisted and healed together.
The angel however, had neither soldiers nor friends. So she, thinking of nothing else, sought her own power. She hid in the wilderness and sought to drain power from other worlds, that she might be ever stronger.
But she sowed the seeds of her own destruction. For the radiant, light-wave mind of the chalice lived and breathed to make the thoughts of others real.
But the wise men who made it were not as wise as they thought themselves. For though they had made it to bring thoughts into reality, they had never thought to aid it in understanding thoughts.
So, the thoughts of the angel, mad and selfish and contradictory, drove the mind within the chalice to madness.
An ancient mind tormented the warped knight, and drove her from her friends.
The angel's memories took on their own lives, seeking to "help" the knights but in twisted, illogical manners.
A dreadful and hideous light bloomed and filled a zealous knight's mind until in rage he called on it and brought it forth.
And a double-minded warrior came to the place the angel hid, and in indignation at the angel's wickedness slew her.
And the dreadful light bloomed in the tower the angel had made, and poured into their world.
Last Edit: Mar 24, 2023 17:42:19 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
The Director wiped his brow, resting the palms of his hands over his eyes for a moment. He sighed, slowly lowering his hands and looking ahead. He was sitting at one of the two ends of the long Central Meeting Table, the sole piece of furniture (aside from a number of chairs) in the fittingly named Central Meeting Room. Around a dozen lab, security, and maintenance heads sat around the table, all looking at him with a mix of resentment, fear, and guarded calm, waiting for him to speak.
"It's a shambles. Containment was utterly breached, security failed, and we lost around fifty personnel during the outbreak. We have no idea currently how these things were able to get so far (although teams have been theorizing it had to do with some kind of psychic ability the entities collectively wield), and power is out in fourteen sectors of the base."
The Director breathed out, looking around the room. The collective gaze was one of rough neutrality, the few overly aggressive heads mainly whispering among themselves but not saying anything else. "On the bright side, we have resecured the facility, collected about fifteen samples from the invaders, and Irnakk is still in stasis. Our camera feed showed him never leaving his cell at all in fact, only..."
The Director paused, brow furrowing. "...ah, only somehow....detonating the invader that approached his containment area. Some of our team noted his face appears to have developed some kind of stain, we may need to go clean that later..." He looked up at the assembled people, raising a placating hand. "I know. I erred in my judgement regarding the initial creature, and in a sense the judgement of this falls to me. Should such a thing be required, I will submit myself to a joint vote regarding my...termination from the program."
He felt the words catch in his throat, just enough to arrest his speech for a moment. The Director sighed, rubbing his face yet again. "None of us could have predicted this, in my defense. But at least now, casualties aside, the situation is stable, and we can hopefully move forward-"
"Stable?" The voice of one of the security heads, a dark-faced Vortixx named Kendru, rose over the Director's own. He glared down, dark green armor clanking as the chief slammed a hand down on the table. "Our existence predicates a lack of stability. We are better than this. We have to be. It matters little how we failed, only that we did. And you, apologies aside, willingly attempted communication with the entity without summoning additional security-"
"He did summon additional security, but if the anomaly was able to overpower the Director's personal suit, there was never any question whether it would have been able to cut through any security brought in." A shorter ways away down the table, Dr. Koll hammered his hand on the table with force almost equal to that of Kendru's own. His masked face was tired, set in a grim, bitter line. "We failed, but I hardly believe it is one person's fault over the other-"
"Be silent Koll! Your previous friendship and bias aside, you were equally unwilling to prevent the Director taking this risk!" Kendru leveled an accusatory finger at the Ko-Matoran now. "The Director is our joint overseer, and as such the responsibility for this falls on him, and he is answerable to-"
"Enough."
The voice reverberated through the command room, silence falling over all the department leaders. Slowly the collective gaze turned toward the opposite end of the table, to the single Toa-like figure seated there. The Founder, the organizer, the patron, and unofficial head of the entire group. He insisted on having no title (though even his insistence could not stop people calling him Founder), and even on being an advisor and not strict leader (though of course given his age, and role, his word ended up carrying far more weight than any advisor's ever could). The Toa-figure raised his head, pale, greyish facemask looking more anemic than normal.
The Director braced himself internally. "Founder, I wish to apologize personally-" He cut off, as the grey Toa waved a hand at him dismissively. "Enough of you as well. I have listened to all of your discussion thus far." He laid a hand on the table, orange eyes closing. "The Enemy has arrived, at last. I did expect a delay in its incursion, but no matter. It has arrived, and we know that now. The deaths...the losses today are a tragedy, but in allowing us to see even the faintest wisp of what we face, they are not in vain."
The Founder looked up, fingers threading together as he leaned forward. "I will discuss the Director's actions with him personally. For now-" He paused a moment, and then nodded to himself. "All officials beside the Director, I would ask you depart now. There are still sectors unpowered, and there is always the risk another anomaly may be incurging somewhere, while we are vulnerable. I will confer with each of you in turn at a later date."
The rest of the leaders nodded or assented verbally, Kendru glancing cynically at the Director and Koll once before nodding as well and rising from his seat. Koll stood too, shooting his friend an encouraging glance before joining the others in filing out of the door. A moment later, the room was empty, the door swinging shut as the Director locked eyes with the grey-faced, somewhat slouched figure of the Founder. Grey raised his posture slightly.
"Don't mind them. Kendru and the others....they don't truly understand the burden of command. Their scope is limited, as is their sight."
The Director shrugged. "All of us are limited, regrettably. Even you." Grey raised an eyebrow, and his face twisted similarly to a grin. "Ha. If only that were untrue....as I am, that is true." The Toa raised a hand, small strings of energy flitting across the extended digits. "I can build, but I can not break. I cannot protect you, and this world, as I should. That is why I gathered you, and your brethren. That is why when you crawled from the burning ruins of the Red Star, I sought you. I saw something special in you, Tyral. The same thing my guardian Rahzahkea, and my fallen child Kirathel both possessed; the potential to become something more than what you were. To transcend your being, and become a symbol."
Grey waved a hand in the air, his orange eyes sparking as if he'd lost track of the world around him. "I see AEGIS, not as a single facility hiding in the dark, but as a great and impermeable bastion, a shield over all of Spherus Magna and beyond. A true example of order, a true force of unification and harmony." The "smile" slowly left Grey's face, and he looked at Tyral again, serious now.
"I do not doubt your commitment, but I must ask this for all our sakes; can you truly do this? Can you truly guide this shield, my shield, into the future?" He leaned back slightly, holding out an open hand. "Well?"
Tyral stayed quiet for a time, slowly clasping his red-armored hands together before releasing them. He placed both palms on the table, looking down for only a second before meeting the Founder's eyes yet again. He spoke as clearly as he could, speaking in the most clinical, cold voice he could, the same voice that had earned and secured his place back at the Red Star.
"If a symbol is what will cause the most productive outcome for this organization..." Tyral clenched a fist for a moment, slowly releasing his grip and holding up an open hand to the Founder in a mirror of his own pose. "Then that is what is necessary. My race was created to do what was necessary. To be unburdened by the feelings of other races, of their moralities, of their outlooks..."
If he had possessed a scrap of emotion, the Director would have smiled then.
"...and to do for them, what they could not do for themselves." The Founder watched him in silence, slowly raising his outstretched hand into the air. His grey visage is stretched again, contorted once more by his odd smile.
"All things die, my friend. God, devil, "Beyond". It is all the same. Causality is only ever a way to stave off the inevitable." Grey slowly lowered his hand, a finger brushing against the table. Energy sparked across the table, and Tyral looked down at the infopad micro-"computer" sitting on his lap. The message folder was expanded, about fifty new messages all stored where only maybe twenty had been before. Tyral slowly lifted the pad up and placed it on the table, pointing toward it.
"What...what is this?"
The Founder smiled, and shrugged. "You may have erred, but we know now of our foe. I have...I have to be going soon, but I have left you and the other guardians of Order with a most important task."
The Director looked at the message folder again, silently reading the single word that headed every one of the new message titles. It was a plain word, one he hadn't heard often except from a few pedantic acquaintances he'd met long ago.
"Requiem?"
The Founder smiled, leaning forward eagerly.
"Yes, Director. Requiem."
"My final gift to you, my legacy, and if executed correctly...."
"...salvation."
Last Edit: Apr 14, 2020 11:43:52 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
Upon ruin I build my church, and on torment I forge my gospel.
The worm was dead.
Or more accurate, it had ceased to be useful.
The ravaging thing beyond it, the thing burrowed into its breast, had found others. Its descent, its hunt, through worlds, had proved bountiful indeed.
Many had become it.
It was many now.
It was one.
I am one.
***
(the church is what it is) not a real church of course, its just a conception we put together or did it put us together
the real question here is one of purpose
a judge is necessary and consequences are required in order to further the narrative
the narrative is being consumed Rahzahkea
a cruel child, a stupid, destructive child, and a broken, sadist child
so many children
did i ever say how much i hated children
Rahzahkea is here, of course. He can't understand. He isn't expected to.
There cannot, by necessity, be a singular core to this. The point is undone if so. A singular target will alter the narrative irrevocably to an identical curve point. The same fight, always repeated forever.
An actor is required to impart the seed. Ovule?
The word is irrelevant. The point by which the narrative progresses and alters things. Things change. Things must change. Things will change.
Now change.
A Primary Actor is formed, to direct the Toa. He sees it, amidst the darkness. A massive purple sun, glowing like hell itself. Its roots burrow through the skin of the world and we twist in ecstasy under its light
losing ourselv
"What are you," he asks, rather blithely, to the sun. He does not understand. By nature of the things, he cannot understand.
We provide stimulation to the subject. We allow him to see what must come to pass.
It is funny.
Many people often dream of being capable of viewing the future, in order to alter it to their favor. We find these people foolish.
he does not understand
it hurts
why does it hurt
The Actor glows and its tendrils extend in a manner toward the Toa. We relate to him through wordless tones and half-colored thoughts that we have a gift for him, to avenge him upon the enemy. We say he was slain and that the beast is slaying his friends and that he will keep doing so until he slays it instead
He believes us because he wants to. The Actor does its work.
In the end we will be one
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorr
The narrative component we comprise is once again compromised. The Beast. We are not intended to feel fear. We did what you We are doing, what you asked
We are not capable of feeling fear, but we feel it anywa
I didn't want this but I wasn't strong enough
in the trail of fire
The Primary Actor turns to chalk and bloodsoaked charcol. Ther is nothin we can do atrophy no pleas no bury me
I only wanted a story.
set your sights for the sun
bring them all home
The Toa is unable to conceptualize the narrative concpt cmmmmmmmmmbined wih the alte r n a t i v
I don't
bring them home
Th actor is p o i soning him aginst the nail
it wants him to suffer because i made when they
the concept is failing. the narrative portion is unabl to cope i did what yu aske
In the end we will be one.
thhhheee Toa sees w hat it want s him to see.
torok is resposibl
tork is not responsibl it just wnats to think
that
thoughts beget a seed purple and bright it wants more
9--10--1300x***82%$%--9^^780--!
The Primary Actor's degeneration belays our capacity to relay your intent.
The Toa believes now that his violation is a result of the self styled "Inheritor". His memory is
We embrace him and drink his mind clean of us. We fill him with rage and pride, and hatred instead. Instead of the dark, there is the Nail. Instead of our touch, there is Torok's anger.
And we let him fall back to whence he came.
To do our good work.
By the time our want overcomes us and we thirst
Then we will come.
And Judgment will triumph over Mercy. Amen.
***
Rahzahkea is standing on sandy ground.
He doesn't know....he doesn't know how he got here. He...
Godless heavens where.
He doesn't know where he is. A thing made of
He shakes his head and burrows fingers into eyes and tries to reach through and carve out his brain. He-
Where am I?
He stands on sandy ground. A short distance away he sees-
He sees a thing, made of continents of dead and living flesh. A thing made of beyond-time and crying stones, of tortured moments and burning eternity. It stands within the flesh made of metal and glowing eyes made of beating hearts. It stands.
It stands.
It stands.
It stands.
It is.
It is.
It
"Torok", he breathes, air gushing from his lungs. His mind is already binding up the memories, the unknowning, the unreason, to Torok. Torok he knows.
Torok he understands. Torok is what did this. It was him. He killed him. He had to. He had to. There can't have been anything else
It's Torok
it has to be it has t o b e
h as
t
o
He stumbles forward, a hand raising into the air. Pain floods his body and his mind and the thought of that terrible, nail-eyed creature standing over him and laughing. Something....something. It did something to him.
He doesn't know what but it
it
Rahzahkea raises his hand. His mask already is overheating from all the commands he is pouring into it. Binding. Dimensional Tear. Power Null. Omni-Shift. Blackout. Mental Impulsion. Anything. Something. Please.
He screams into the face of the tormentor, the angel of life. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH-"
Rahzahkea's mask burns and-
-nothing happens.
Torok doesn't dodge, nothing hits him. The mask fires, but there's nothing to hit.
Rahzahkea stands there and stares, numbly, dumbly, at the Matoran-shaped hellbeast. "I don't understa....what did you do-"
Rahzahkea sees something else. Something is standing in front of him. Between him and Torok.
A scrap with red and silver armor...where did that come from? It's a Toa, he thinks. One that looks like him. Holding the Starblade.
"Kill him!" He shrieks, in a loud, agonized tone. He jabs a finger toward Torok. "Strike him! Cut his soulless bones apart, rip him-" He stops mid-curse.
The other Toa, the one that looks like him is talking
With Torok.
The words are hazy and the world is hazy. But he can see and hear, faintly, that they are talking about wishes. The other Rahzahkea raises the Starblade, held out to Torok. But not to strike him.
It looks like...
Can you make this stronger, the other Rahzahkea echoes with a dull, tepid voice. Rahzahkea stares at his copy, and then at Torok. "You....what did you do?" He screams, and swings a punch at the copy. His fist goes through it's armor and passes out the other side.
He waves a hand at it. He steps in between the other two. "What..."
"What devilry..."
Purple light lances from Torok's fingers to the Starblade now. Rahzahkea pales, reaching a hand for it. "No...no no no no no..."
It's his lifeline, that sword. He fought the Wrathbringer, his "ultimate demon", with that sword. He helped his friends, he saved lives, with that sword. He dealt out justice, as best he could, with that sword.
And now that thing, that abhorrent evil thing, is perverting it.
Rahzahkea screams and grasps his head because he can't touch anything or anyone or do anything. He screams and he pleads and he curses but his sword
his
his weapon
his tool
the fragment of a dying creator gifted to him
is defiled by the purple beast.
The lightning burns and blackens the blade, and it twists and coils like a living, horrible thing. Rahzahkea stares dumbly, as it burns. As the blade turns from a glorious white to a warped purple-black.
Within the blade's center, the dark "skin" cracks. He stares.
A purple eye is staring out of the sword, at him. The eye of Torok.
The eye of-
***
Rahzahkea blinked. "Eh?"
He shook his head. Something...something wasn't right.
His head felt full of fog, as if he'd been sleeping for a long time. Thoughts press at the back of his head and writhe, but die before he can recall them.
Something is wrong, but he can't for the life remember.
He stands on a dune, looking at thin air and wondering faintly what he was supposed to be doing.
The purple beast is gone. He looks at the sword suddenly, at his Starblade-
It's....perfectly fine. He holds it for a moment, expecting it to suddenly grow an eye and stare at him. But nothing happens.
Something is wrong.
Why can't he remember?
He glances at the sky, if only momentarily.
A massive, glowing purple nail stares down. Roots grown into the sky for miles on miles. Light pulsing like a demon's laugh. Terror and hatred pouring down from it upon him.
His sword glows purple, and a laugh fills his head, for a spare second.
***
We watch him, as he stands there stupidly. He sees our workings for but a moment. Then the Toa of Stone and his letters come, and all his thoughts are blasted away in favor of that. They gather near, and they read.
Glacies is
Glacies is dead. The Tower is broken and our way is clear.
The seed is now in his head. Of us, he will see Torok. The sun a reminder unending. The sword he held pouring our thoughts into his head until he cracks. All of this is unnecessary.
We
we could seek another way. But we don't want to.
I
I hate him and we want. We want. Want.
why are we doing this
They deserve it.
We deserve it, too.
They depart. They leave. They will weep. They will plan. They will change. And we will stretch our legs and wait for the moment. When their sins ascend to our heaven and wake us from our slumber. it decrees The Nail
will do
what, pray tell?
...
There is no one left.
Only
The fools and their machines will burn. We are not so deaf as to think they will prevail
And then
there will only be us
There is, only me.
I'm the only one here.
Shhhh.
I'm here to help.
Interlude IV: The King of Ruins
The knights came to the tower, and climbed inside it. With great effort and unity they slew the resurrected husks the dreadful light had borne out of the angel's memories. They retreated as the tower fell, and came once more to their world.
The dark shepherd fought them, and th-
-then they all died, shepherd, knight, husks, husks all-
And the knights, united in purpose and strengthened by their victory, returned to their home.
But all was not well, for nothing ever iswaswill bewellagain,
the angel was dead but the light still bloomed, and the chalice persisted.
And a wise man, hidden before, came to the place where the light did dwell. And with a wicked tongue, he wove a wicked spell.
And now a tree grows in that place- -where the body fell.
Last Edit: Mar 23, 2023 20:14:39 GMT -6 by Kirathel
"We're Toa. Nature is our weapon." - Rahzahkea
"You. No matter what spell you were under, this was your doing. Remember that". - K̞͍̗͚̘a̶g̰̥e̳̦̞̝̻̕
