Hi, Ive poured over the rules and I’m mostly certain I’m not in violation by posting so soon, but of course feel free to correct me if needed.
This is a short story I feverishly wrote on a sleepless morning, with very little review. It takes place in an alternate universe, the point of deviation occuring during the events of Bionicle 2: Legends of Metru Nui.
I am not well seasoned in this field of work, so any feedback would be of good use to me, if you see fit to give it.
Anyway, I’d like to present to you…
As It Was
In another universe, 1000 years ago…
The Great Spirit was desperate.
He had done what he could to fool Teridax, and tried to protect the Toa Metru without drawing any attention. Now he had little but to face his fate, and ponder his oversights.
Over the past fifty years or so, he had hurried back to Spherus Magna in a desperate bid to fulfill his destiny before the Brotherhood’s Plan was realized. He knew, now, that he was too late.
Ahead, the ocean moon of Aqua Magna was fast approaching. Beyond that, the other fragments of his home planet, and farther still, the sun Solis Magna. It was going to happen at any moment. It would be safer for the Matoran if he just landed now.
Mata Nui turned his gaze toward Aqua Magna, readying to alter his trajectory for landing. But, wait… What was that? Something had just happened near his core processor. He could no longer control his flight systems, and he was beginning to spin out of control.
Could the Makuta have known even this? He turned his gaze inward, scanning the source of the dangerous interruption, expecting to find a machination of Teridax’s mind at work, but what he found left him with more questions.
Mata Nui watched the strange events occuring deep beneath Metru Nui, and as his consciousness began fading, his final thought was not a hopeful one:
I don’t understand…
ØØØØØØ
A few seabirds bobbed over the waves of the endless ocean, cawing and dipping their beaks in the water, cooling their heads beneath the warm sun’s steady gaze.
One looked up. Something was swooping down, something large. The bird cried and took flight, encouraging the others to follow.
They needn’t have done so. It was not a predatory bird swooping down for a meal, although the birds could be forgiven for their instinctive behavior. What they did not realize was that the figure was not a bird at all, and was much too far away to cause any harm.
If any eyes had been watching, they would have seen the massive figure drift peacefully across the sky and continue on its way, never to set foot on this ocean world.
Instead, the birds resettled on the ocean’s top, calling out to each other, thinking little of what they had just witnessed. In fact, they would come to know the figure’s presence once more, albeit in a way far less peaceful than the first.
ØØØØØØ
The creature stumbled forward, claws outstretched, and caught itself on a wall. It was confused; it was not sure why it was here. The signal had been heard, and the swarms answered. Still, something was not quite right.
It looked up. The sky seemed darker than it used to be. Perhaps that meant nothing, at least, to the figure in question- the machine was a being of simple thought, and likewise the krana within it. They were not stupid creatures, but they had a job to do, and pondering the natural order was not requisite to that job. Still, something was not quite right.
It looked down. It was up to its knees in seawater. The shallows splashed against the stone barrier before it, a barrier that reached up into the heavens, and out of sight. That was different. That had never been on the island before. The creature was confused.
It turned and looked behind. Off in the distance, across the silvery ocean, a domed ripple of energy was pulsating over the horizon, like two invisible forces fighting against eachother. As the creature watched, the inner force slowly gained ground, pushing the shimmering wave of energy further out, just a bit at a time. Something about that seemed familiar, but what did it have to do with the island?
The mechanical beast turned back around. It did not remember how it got here, but it did remember the mission. It looked to it’s left, eyes following the great barrier off into the horizon.
Clean it all…
It looked to the right, and saw the same barrier stretching off into infinity in the other direction.
It must be cleaned…
The krana turned the machine forward, eyeing the stone wall just an arm’s reach ahead.
All obstacles will be removed.
The Bohrok reached its hands out again, sinking its claws into the ancient rock.
…as it was, in the before-time…
Shaking away its initial hesitation, the Bohrok pushed its hands deeper, and began to dig.
ØØØØØØ
Toa Vakama was very nervous.
Mere hours ago, he had been face to face with the Makuta, donning the Kanohi Vahi to buy his friends enough time to escape. He was anchored in place by the power of the mask, a claw of shadow stretching toward him, and Turaga Lhikan moving in to intercept. It seemed to him nothing could change what was about to happen.
But then, something did. A blast of stone had erupted from the side of the Great Barrier, striking him and throwing the Mask of Time from his face. Vakama saw two very significant things before tumbling over the edge and into the sea. The first was a seemingly endless flow of large, insectoid creatures pouring from a new opening in the Barrier; the second was far worse than that.
As the beasts filed out onto the platform, the Vahi struck the ground, the force of the impact splitting the mask down the middle. Against Vakama’s expectations, the mask’s power poured out over the surrounding area, aging and de-aging the stone around it. Even the weather seemed to be shifting violently within a certain distance from the mask, and Vakama could see individuals appearing and disappearing rapidly within the field of power. Worse, the field seemed to be expanding outward, and enveloping everything in it’s path.
That was the last thing Vakama saw in the split-second before falling over the edge. He had struck the surface of the ocean with enough force to knock him unconscious, and when he awoke, he was aboard the Vahki transport with the other Toa Metru.
As Nokama explained it, the surge of energy quickly became visible to the five Toa down below. It seemed to her that some other force had countered it, holding it back long enough for them to gather Vakama from the water and flee the area, although what that counterforce could have been, none of the Toa could say. Vakama filled them in on what little he knew, and the six Toa, with six sleeping Matoran, travelled south away from the city as fast as they could.
Vakama sat on the back of the transport, watching his city fade from view. The wall of temporal power was rippling through the air just beyond the distant shoreline, and the Toa of Fire ached at the thought of what the Matoran must have been experiencing in there.
This is all my fault, he thought to himself woefully. I shouldn’t have waited so long. I should have used the mask sooner. He thought about Turaga Lhikan, still up on that ledge.
And I just left him there. Vakama felt sick. He could no longer see the shoreline of Metru Nui, just the wall of shifting power stretching toward him, slowly and surely. Somehow, he could not bring himself to turn away.
ØØØØØØ
TTSSSSSSSS…
The canister slid open, a crescent of light pouring into the chamber as its resident shook the drowsiness from his mind. He did not know where he was, but he knew he needed to be sharp.
Admittedly, that’s one of the few things I do know, he mused. It would seem I-
He never finished the thought. An armored claw reached into the canister and yanked him out, throwing him into the sand. He looked up, alarmed, to see a massive, winged titan standing over him, a sinister mask on his face, and a hint of worry in his eyes.
“Get up, Toa,” he snarled. “Destiny calls.”
“Who are you?” The Toa instinctively reached behind him for something to fight with. He found a straight, snow-white sword and a small shield had been hooked to his back. Arming himself, he rose to his feet and took up a defensive position. “How did you know I was here?”
“I know a great many things, Kopaka,” the titan said. “I know we have less time than I planned for, and none to spare on this conversation. Follow me, or die with the universe.”
Before the Toa could reply, the world shimmered and changed all around him. They were at the edge of a jungle, in what looked like a hastily assembled military camp. A bulky, heavily armored figure was handing out orders to a ragtag group of characters, while some smaller beings built up barriers and others manned defenses and watchtowers.
“What is this? What has happened here?” Kopaka turned about to take it all in.
“A setback,” said the titan. “One I did not foresee, but nonetheless, one I will resolve. Come, meet your teacher.”
The two figures approached a third, a Toa like Kopaka, clad in white armor.
“This is Nuju, a novice Toa of Ice,” said the shadowy figure. “He will use what little time he has to help you come to know your power. Listen well, little Toa. Your future depends on it.” The titan disappeared then, leaving the two Toa behind.
“Best to hurry,” said Nuju. “The Bohrok will be here soon enough, and you’ll want as much training as you can get your hands on before then.” He paused, then said, under his breath, “Or as much I have to give, anyway.”
“No disrespect, teacher,” said Kopaka. “But I know little more than my own name. Perhaps we should begin with who I’m fighting, and who I’m fighting them for?”
Nuju nodded impatiently. “He is the Makuta, and put plainly, he is a monster completely unworthy of your respect or loyalty. However, we share an enemy, and he knows that enemy far better than we do.”
Kopaka’s expression never changed. “And that enemy is?”
“They are called Bohrok. I don’t know much about them, although I have heard something of them in the past. They sweep across the universe, destroying everything they see. They’ve already laid waste to every land as far south as the Tren Krom Peninsula, so what’s left of civilization has been gathering here, just north of the Voya Nui region. Makuta claims it is a critical point on the map, one we can’t afford to lose.”
Kopaka nodded. “And you trust him?”
“Not at all,” Nuju said, pointing his crystal spike to the colossus overseeing the camp. “But I trust Axonn, and he claims the same thing.”
Kopaka shook his head, impatient with the situation, but understanding of it. He was largely uninformed, and not entirely sure how to fight in a war. Nonetheless, the situation seemed dire, and his instinct told him this is where he needed to be.
“Very well,” he said to his instructor. “Where do we start?”
ØØØØØØ
The Bohrok swarms rarely fought anyone, but when they did, it was the main six breeds that typically earned the attention of their enemies. With six power sets, eight breeds of krana, twenty kaita combinations and numbers climbing into the hundreds of thousands, the Bohrok swarms were a force of nature. By garnering so much attention, they also served as a fine distraction from the works of the Bohrok Va.
The Va were small, krana-less machines, in direct communication with the Bahrag at all times. They scouted ahead, distracted enemies, and distributed krana and information alike to the swarms. They rarely exceeded these roles, but it must not be thought that the Va were without a might of their own; for there was little a Matoran could do that a Bohrok Va couldn’t figure out how to replicate.
As of late, that meant operating a naval fleet.
Of course, it was not a military effort; the Bohrok didn’t think in such terms. But when a swarm had to cross an obstacle they were not already equiped to cross, the Bohrok Va found a way to bridge the gap. These other creatures in this universe had built structures that could travel long distances through water and air, and the Va wasted no time in learning how to operate them. It was a strange excursion, one well outside the typical parameters of a swarm, but such was what the mission called for.
Clean it all, they thought in unison as airships and sailing vessels alike moved southward, leaving a barren continent in their wake. It must be cleaned.
ØØØØØØ
Teridax was furious.
The whole series of events had been ongoing for less then two weeks, but it felt more like years; Ironically enough, considering the temporal breakdown that had consumed all of Metru Nui, Karzahni, Xia, Artahka and so many others. Even if the Bohrok had leveled the land first, the power of the Vahi was not limited to the present. Anybody who had died in combat would just return to die the same way a thousand times more.
Naturally, the Makuta of Metru Nui didn’t care if a handful of would-be heroes suffered for eternity. The thought was actually quite pleasant to him. What he cared about was a universe too chaotic to rule, and a Great Spirit too dead to sustain it. What he cared about was his great Plan falling to pieces because a cloud of insects didn’t know their place.
Teridax reviewed the information once more as his laser vision cut a line of Gahlok in half. If he knew where the Bohrok queens were, that would make all the difference. The Makuta couldn’t teleport to their nest without entering the time warp, but it stood to reason they weren’t there anyway, for a Bahrag traveling through time can’t direct a swarm that stays in the present. Clearly, those commanders had travelled down with their legions, and were likely on their way here.
But Teridax couldn’t wait for their arrival; the swarms were already here, dangerously close to the Ignika. Everyone who hadn’t already died would soon enough, if that legendary mask were to be damaged; hence the massive fortifications established here.
Teridax had attempted multiple times to destroy the swarms themselves, starting with his first encounter at the Great Barrier, but for every Bohrok he threw across the sea, a dozen more took its place. He had been forced to retreat to more secure ground, and to ally with anyone who could hold a weapon.
A mighty axe flew past the Makuta’s mask, punching a hole through a Bohrok Kaita to his left. The axe flew back, nearly striking the master of shadows, before meeting the palm of Axonn’s hand.
“It would have been no loss,” said the warrior, before dismissively turning away from Teridax’s offended expression. The Makuta held his tongue.
All things in their time, Axonn, he thought to himself. When this is over, I will teach you the meaning of loss.
A concentrated beam of light dove into the oncoming wave of Bohrok, burning holes through their krana and gears at lightning speed. The guardian Umbra had not left his chamber in a hundred thousand years, but these times were desperate, and he was the only guardian the Bohrok couldn’t touch.
Teridax refocused. The Bahrag could be anywhere, and his absence would deal a blow to the defenders of Voya Nui here and now. He had collected as many warriors as he could to defend the place, and sent Icarax and Gorast north with their armies to stave off the invasion, but clearly that had not gone as well as planned.
The other problem was the Ignika itself. With the Bohrok loose, half of the universe eliminated, and Metru Nui consumed by the power of the Vahi, it was no small feat holding back the Ignika’s countdown. Artahka had indeed been pulling his weight, almost instantly providing the technology needed to slow the spread of the Mask of Time’s power. Krika had reported that the old crafter was with Tren Krom now, and the two were pooling their mighty psionic abilities to fool the Ignika into believing all was well, for as long as possible. Ultimately, the countdown wasn’t tethered exclusively to the Mask’s perceptions, but every second made the difference.
Teridax bellowed a power scream at the oncoming horde, while all around him Toa, Rahkshi, Matoran, Visorak, Dark Hunters and members of the Order of Mata Nui fought tooth and nail to fend off the apocalypse. There were enough aerial battles to blot out most of the sunlight, and the ground rumbled from the combat happening below the earth. Nynrah Ghosts, Vortixx, and Artahka himself had armed this battalion with the most powerful weaponry available, and nobody was pulling their punches.
Ahead of him, a Toa Kaita disappeared beneath the cloud of Tahnok and Lehvak that crawled all over her. To his right, the laser form of Umbra suddenly stopped in midair, turned, and punched a clean, smoking hole in the earth. Teridax furrowed his brow as he poured his power into a gravitic center, crushing dozens of the creatures into a microscopic point. Through the newly generated clearing, he saw his target.
“Bahrag!” He shouted to his fellow warriors. He raised an arm and fired a burst of shadow through the battlefield, aimed directly at the queens. The force struck an invisible surface just ahead of them, and they shrieked in pleasure.
You will be removed! they cheered in unison. The Great Spirit will be as he was in the Before-Time!
“Kill them! Strike now!” Teridax unleashed another shadow burst even as he tore into their minds. Axonn was already there, cleaving at the energy shield violently. A Skakdi on a Tahtorak steed was holding back the swarms alongside a Toa of Iron, and Kopaka and Nuju hurried to fill the gaps in their defenses. Teridax pushed through, batting away the elemental forces of the queens, unleashing power after power on the flickering shields of the Bahrag. More and more fighters joined on the assault, even as a wavering wall of temporal energy appeared on the northern horizon.
“It’s now or never!” Axonn shouted over the ocean of conflict, desperate to rally his soldiers. “Fight for your life! Fight for your universe!”
ØØØØØØ
The Kanohi Ignika felt… odd.
Its instinct told it something was wrong, but some other thought kept convincing it otherwise… until moments ago. The mask sensed the death of whoever was tampering with its mind. The facade began to slip, and the mask began to notice things.
It noticed time was moving out of order to the north. It noticed a quarter of all life was no more. It noticed the universe under siege by the Bohrok swarms. It noticed its guardian, Umbra, struggling to keep up with the onslaught of invaders in the next chamber over.
The mask did not notice, however, its own rapid change from gold to silver, and from silver to a mottled black. Nonetheless, the Mask continued to notice the world around it, a world of fear, and death, and destruction, and annihilation…
ØØØØØØ
The creature scurried away from the sound of battle, leaving its brothers to resolve the conflict. Dust and soil poured across its ebon armor as it burrowed yet another tunnel through the earth, quickly breaking through to a chamber on the other side. It looked around the room, deciding what it should clean next. I’s insectoid eyes settled on what looked something like a krana, a metal one, sitting on a pedestal.
clean it all, it thought.
It had barely taken a step forward when before its eyes, the remaining vestiges of silver faded, and as the mask went completely black, so did everything else.
ØØØØØØ
Things were generally quiet from this point forward.
There wasn’t much to describe. The air got colder, the lights grew dim, and nobody was around to notice. After a few days, the air was too stale to breathe, but it didn’t matter. Gravity failed completely for a day or two, before returning rather violently.
within a day of that, a small rumble shook the universe. Everything settled again quickly enough, and conditions returned to the cold, dark normal they were now. Then the air started to get warm.
A few hours in, molten protodermis began raining from the sky, sporadically at first, then constantly, and everywhere. Dead foliage dried up and burst into flames; the oceans settled into a soft boil.
A deafening crack shot through the skies from the south, as if to herald the wave of heat and flame that flooded the universe. Minutes later, heat and flame were the only things left.
ØØØØØØ
The solar flares that struck Bara Magna were a fresh wound on a one hundred thousand year old scar.
Being a desert planet, the inhabitants had long ago adapted to the harsh, hot environment. It wasn’t hospitable by any means, but the Agori, Glatorian, and Skrall always managed to survive.
Not so, in recent days. The oases of Tesara and Tajun were boiled away, and exposure to sunlight became almost immediately deadly. The nights were frigid cold, too, as the stripped away atmosphere exposed the planet to the cruelties of outer space.
Nobody had ever heard from the southern villages again. Roxtus held out for quite some time, but food had grown even scarcer, and the baterra proved to be unfazed by the harsh, new environment.
The cold of the White Quartz Mountains staved off some of the heat, and the ancient catacombs beneath them made Iconox the closest thing to a safe haven the planet had. Most life had retreated underground, and few newcomers made their way to Iconox’s gates after the first year.
Those who did see the sky before the Great Retreat claim Aqua Magna was covered pole to pole with hurricanes and dust storms, and Bota Magna was as brown and lifeless as the planet it revolved around. After that, the gates were sealed off, and nobody saw the sky again.
A few other havens of life yet exist on Bara Magna, in which defeated and heartbroken scientists scramble desperately to reverse a crisis so far removed from it’s solution. Most beneath Iconox have forgotten about these ones, and hold little hope for change. But those thinkers and ponderers, hermited away as they are, toil and scribble away for an eternity longer, hoping in time that their world will once again be as it was.
ØØØØØØ
And that’s the big whoop. Let me know whatcha think.
-Wekua