Hello, I am DJStaIin for those who did not know; and today I am please to present a story I have been working on for nearly over a year now, set in the V Osade Alternate Universe. Of course, I would like to keep this as brief as possible; but I would greatly appreciate any feedback or comments to be made down below.
Unfortunately, the story exceeds the character limit for the first post--so I will have to drop the second half of the story below in the comments. Thank you for your understanding.
Unidentifed Alternate Universe, Destral...
The shattered coast of Destral churned the sharp stones against the grains of sand in a gut-wrenching manner; as it would make the sound of knives being sharpened. Tossing about the vast majority of the coast were a series of bacterial cysts—which were formed from the chemical output from a foreign substance known as 'Biotoxin'.
The jagged and clogged skies let no light pass through the murderous clouds, as the smell of infection was fresh in the air. Defeating his master, the sick Makuta known as Erevayx took control of Destral—alienating his brethren and laying waste to the fortress of Makuta. It was a rather peculiar situation that anyone could have ever experienced; it was hardly worth considering a threat when what was supposed to be the enemy cut itself off from the world.
But the unpredictable and rather violent behavior of Erevayx couldn't be accepted anymore, and it endangered whatever peace still existed in this abandoned universe. He produced a threat from what biochemical attacks he could initiate, transform and disfigure all innocence that remained in this universe into ravenous beasts, hungry for the hunt and kill under the command of their ill master.
The sudden sound of the motor snapped to a halt, as the blades stopped cutting; and the vessel stop moving at its maximum speed—being left to drift to the shores; slowly and peacefully. This seemed like an appropriate contrast, the majestic motion of the boat floating to beach—to the ravenous sky and deadly landscape.
As the Toa's boat hit the infected and disposed shores, she scanned the overturn shores; the dangerous air and the broken rocks. After spending hours on such a small vessel, the Toa of Psionics would have realistically been looking forward to touching natural earth once more, but the shore made her feel unwelcome—a deadly presence whispering to her.
The trees were dead, and foretold of danger and complication; the fauna, dead or starving for normality—crying in sharp pain, as they were overtaken by the poison. She ignored these cries, ignored the pain this place brought to her heart; thanked the captain of the ship—and touched the shores.
"I bid you farewell, Toa of Psionics," the Shipmaster spoke wearily, looking up to the turrets of the broken hall, "this is a place which won't be as forgiving." And with a low mutter, he added: "Mata Nui, what has he done..?"
The Toa of Psionics bowed her head, thanking the master of ships before saying: "Thank you, take care yourself; I'll be sure this," She paused, glancing over the destruction one last time, before continuing at a slower pace, "that this won't happen ever again."
"You'd best move, Toa," the master warned, "for what dangers are lurking at this islands darkest hour I cannot foretell."
"I think I know of the true danger here, Malki," the Toa of Psionics replied, "the master of the beast."
No other words were exchanged, as the Toa pushed the little vessel free of the coast and into the see; watching as the small Matoran would reactivate the motor, as the paddles would resume playing their song. The Toa turned her head, before facing inland once more—preparing herself for this hour of conflict. Her armor tugged at her senses; as she would reel her neck back, focusing her attention on the hall in the dark wilderness. And with a propelling step, the Toa of Psionics built confidence to change past the shore; and into hell.
The twisted, dark-wood trees were covered in reactive spores; dripping in chemical infection as the once alive leaves cracked and dissolved under a black spell. The native animals of Destral were nowhere to be seen, as far as the Toa of Psionics was concerned—but she couldn't bring herself to accept that they must have been dead, or they were in the slow process of being so.
Turning her concerned eyes away, she began to focus more of the maze of thorns crossing her path; twisting their jagged edges against her moving legs patterned against the ground with efficiency. They brought her closer and closer to the compound, as a clearing was made. Where grass once grew, was replaced with dust—and chilling winds brought the agitating grains against her; producing a thick, black cloud.
Her external sensors flared, and directed her through a precisely navigated course. Each turn, each stride was precise to avoid the large rocks or holes which covered the terrain—her navigation was near flawless; as distance closed between her and the Hall of the Makuta.
Her feeling of dust rushing beneath her feet soon turned to stone slabs, cracked and insecure ones at that. Her sensors pulled at her legs to stop; skidding to a near fall as she found the broken shell of one of the Makuta. She examined it cautiously, spores growing where the used-to-be Antidermis was stored. This member was gone, for sure–but what happened to its armor puzzled her.
It was cracked, and empty. Something had attacked the Makuta; intending to do harm. But what could simply hurt, let alone kill a being as mighty and as powerful as a Makuta? She ran this question through her processors a hundred times, drawing the conclusion that frightfully enough—
It had been the Makuta. The signs of infection can only come from one as ill and infectious as Erevayx; a hazard to all that come across him. The Toa of Psionics had studied the effects of this 'Biotoxin' that Makuta Erevayx is so infamous for; the insanity and the horrible mutations which came to pass if anyone were to be subjected—until eventually their irreversible demise.
And to think it was originally created by Erevayx to help his pitiful creations survive a bit longer.
Standing up from her kneel, the Toa of Psionics scanned the Hall; her external sensors picking apart all possible entrance. But that was more than obvious, since the mighty oak doors had been left open; a matter of cracks and breaks bending and twisting the entrance out of shape—sure signs of a struggle. The darkness lurked inside, as the strong, revolting odor leaked into the outside world; polluting the air.
She removed a torch from her hard-case pack; igniting the device, took paced breathes—and prepared herself to move into the dark; forsaking the dead corpse of the Makuta to be taken by the storm of dust once more.
The Toa took her confident, and triumphant steps inside—as the sound of her feet slapping moist tissue became much more heard and clear; stopping to examine the floor, she found it was covered in a thick layer of toxic mucus. She reeled back, praying that her armor would hold out as promised in order to finish her quest; and return safely home. The mucus began to move, sending chills down the Toa's spine; but she pushed on in, further and further to her objective passed the dark passages; which her torch guided her through.
The Toa of Psionics guided, rather felt her way into a large—circular chamber. It would have been a magnificent sight back in its day, as stone pillars would support a domed ceiling, which precious stone patterns being inscribed into the center of the floor. But all of that glory was gone, the mucus and thick tissue of her foe sprawled across the floor; and decorated the pillars as it ate away at the stone—fuming with venomous energy.
The crimson figure stood tall, mucus drooling from its overtaken armor; unnatural growths clogging up the gaps in the beings complex design, as its overtaken body swelled with size and strength. This thing, this cancer among light; was the being known as Erevayx—the last Makuta to haunt this place.
The Toa looked at the torch in her hands, and then towards what seemed to be the unaware Erevayx—tossing the device which let of hazardous light to the center of the room; causing it to roll and stop at the statues feet. It burned the mucus and tissue which seemed to glue the Makuta to the floor—as what should have been a nerveless growth shrieked with pain; and awoke the Makuta.
"We thought you would be deterred by present on the porch. Yet you come anyways, and disturb our meditation." Said Erevayx solemnly, turning his unhinged head many degrees to face the Toa of Psionics; as she would appear very clearly to the disturbed Makuta. "Yet what, who are you to come and disturb us—as we were thinking of time, and possibly nothing more."
The Toa stood silent, preparing her weapons of choice: her Multi-tool gauntlets which channeled her psionic energy to project any force it was capable of manipulating. She tensed, and the Makuta responded to the statue: "One who keeps its mouth shut. How very unique indeed. Perhaps we will have to pry those words out of your mouth, you oversized toy."
The Toa of Psionics shuttered as the mucus and the feelers tried to pull at her legs, probing their way past her armors. Concentrating, she summoned a powerful Psionic blast, destroying the material in a deadly flash of gold; the gauntlets covering her arms smoking with the bright energy.
The remains of this flesh pulled away, screaming in pain and agony—Erevayx shuttering from the blast as well; his eyes flashing red in anger: "We have a fighter, do we not?!"
"This is an end, Erevayx. I advise you cease your efforts, before I am forced to terminate you." The Toa proclaimed mightily, raising her palm to focus on to the standing Makuta; allowing her psionic energy to build up.
The Makuta laughed disturbingly, trailing off around the room; performing exaggerated motion with his lumbering arms. "So high and mighty, we may have to withdraw our compliments. So many before you have come, and have failed. Our wit is greater, and indefinite. We are the ends to a new beginning, Toa."
"You are end," the Toa replied wittingly, "your end is means to a beginning indeed."
"Twister of words, we foretell." Erevayx cracked, "no matter. You shall be assumed in the collection, as so many before
"Depends on which number you pick, Erevayx." She replied, summoning her psionic powers. Drawing the energy, she focused securely on the ill Makuta mind; placing a matter of complicated process on what she already considered a feeble and broken mind. She found many draw backs, those taken ill by mentality or collection usually disregarded any mental tricks—and Erevayx may be no exception.
She disregarded this, and placed a mind block—hoping this would at least stall the renegade Makuta. Her move sent the ill thing dancing around, focusing on things that didn't exist; replacing his comments with cynical laughter. The Toa of Psionics would have thought that the Makuta finally lost his mind, if she wasn't the one who did this to him.
Erevayx thrashed into one of the incredible stone pillars, the Toa then focused in on the corroding material eating away at the support. This corrosion gave the domed ceiling reason to collapse.
"Such an unfair trick to play on us, Toa—but your speech is lost in all I have consumed, and they scream for mercy and vengeance. They shall only be pleased with your addition into the collective. I shall only be pleased with your addition to the collective." Erevayx scoffed, trying to regain his dizzy focus onto the Toa of Psionics.
She only looked back, raising her gauntlet; ignoring the flesh trying to consume her armor.
Focused energy, and incredible precision were the only things she could hope for as she targeted the weakest point of structure Erevayx stood under—taking concentrated breath; she prepared the psionic blast. And went flying?
She was struck in the chest, claws digging past her defenses as her artificial armor shrieked in protest. She held in a scream, allowing herself to lose breath—too dignified to show weakness to this opponent.
The Toa of Psionics hit the corrupted ground back-first, looking up to see the Makuta who took place where she once stood. Erevayx sized up, preparing to swipe down and tear further into the Toa's armor, a devious cackle swelling all noise. Readjusting her aim for her gauntlets; she aimed center-mass, and fired off a series of psionic blasts, pelting into the armor of the ill beast.
Erevayx reeled back in affect, shivering taking slow hold over the artificial frame of his body. Rolling back onto her feet; the Toa of Psionics continued the series of blasts; few hitting off center—as the Makuta was driven to scream. The Toa hadn't feel as much pain as she did now, falling to her knees—ringing in her audio receptors as they began to translate it as scratching.
The stone pillars moved and weakened, dust falling from ceiling to floor as the Makuta of maroon and lime approached the Toa. Instinct took hold of her in this much needed moment, leveling in the sensors of her armor to attune for her decision making; her suit tapped into emergency status.
And with supreme mental and physical prowess, stared down her wicked opponent—who charged her in this moment of need. Two energy bubbles took hold of the Toa of Psionics, one preparing for a Psionic Blast—the other for a means out. In one violent flash, the entire Hall of the Makuta was shaken to pieces as the screaming mess that was Erevayx was conquered by mental energies; breaching his armor and destroying his mind as the great stone pillars collapsed on the two.
A sizable portion of the ceiling was falling towards the Toa of Psionics, velocity moving the giant at incredible speeds as if to crush her entirely. And then, there was—
There was white.
The mucus-covered stone floor was replaced with the metal-coated one of a familiar place; noise slowly returning to her near destroyed audio receptors, a constant and recognizable voice returning to her rushing thoughts as if to coax her out of this odd stasis.
Familiarity was something she needed.
She relaxed and let loose her struggles to keep tense and prepared for a sudden death. She recognized this voice as someone of good and cheering acquaintance.
"Vulf, Vulf?" The voice repeated, as a being became much clearer in her field of vision, "You alright? Can you speak..? Can you move?"
It had been the voice of Crovin. Vulf's knowledge turned back to what she knew about the De-Toa. They first met in the Great Temple, after the pair had received their Toa Stones, a gift from a once mighty Toa of Magnetism. Redeeming their destiny at the Toa Suva, the two have since been united as a Toa Team.
It was then their duty to serve the Agency of Olmak. Destined by his service previously to the Agency, Crovin was promoted to a Mission Handler; and Vulf had been made an Agent. The two had a strong relationship, and sought to overcome the difficulties in other universes through leadership and through action.
"I hear you clear, Toa of Sonics." Vulf remarked, trying to support her sore body; ignoring the growing pain and sensation becoming more and more of a reality as her sensors froze completely—dug into skin.
"You are bound to give me a headache one of these days, Vulf." Crovin replied, "took quite a beating, it seems. The engineers are going to be quite upset with this damage. They don't like equipment like this being cracked, Vulf."
Crovin extended a hand to help Vulf up, who accepted this gesture. She became much more aware of the damage, as it broke past her artificial armor and nearly cut into her. She examined the damage carefully, hoping that none of this 'biotoxin' had breached her system—satisfied that it appeared her armor cleaned up the majority of the mess.
"Well then, I guess they have to accept field damage is a hazard of the occupation then; Crovin." Vulf stated, removing the protection of the Olmak-infused armor as she stood in her given blue and gold armor. She let the pieces of the damaged equipment fall to the floor, as Crovin watched the used armor being discarded—looking back up at Vulf slightly bewildered.
"I guess I can explain try my best to explain to the engineers then, Vulf." Crovin finally said to break the silence, "though very typical of you to leave me with your mess."
"I thought you could handle it," Vulf replied sarcastically, "didn't know you couldn't run a few chores of your own."
"I'm a very busy Toa." Crovin smiled, "but you deserve the rest. Go heal, Toa of Psionics. Though I expect you to keep it within reasonable time?"
"Depends," Vulf responded, "I like to keep my mind open to everything, Crovin. Something you seem to be incapable of."
"Each to their own," Crovin stated, before he waved the Toa of Psionics away; turning his attention back to the discarded armor.