| abstract | - A lone group of Jungle Glatorian walked a broken road, without a known destination. Their platoon was whipped out by an ambush from the Sand Tribe. Once there were 31 men. Now, they were 5 only. 13 wounded, under treatment at HQ. 13 more killed in action. Now their arrogant Element Lord commanded them to scout new territory. Among them was Defaal, clan in navy blue and forest green armor. Horns rising from the sides of his helm, which was on an icy blue face. He wielded a fang-shaped sword, much like a serpent’s. He had a strong and well-built body, like that of an athlete. And he wished this “Core War” never existed to begin with. To his left was Rhyn, an annoying brat full of hot air. All bark, but no bite. The perfect example of a coward. Most would first view him as an enemy spy, but they’d learn how stupid he really was. Heck, if he were ever a spy, his career would only last a nanosecond. His skill was as weak as his courage. His purple-and-green armor was nothing but a hand-me-over, something he salvaged off of a fallen comrade he abandoned. His helmet was poorly designed (like his reputation), held together by some cheap glue from the market. His weapon was an oversized ax, often slipping from his hand. To Defaal’s right, though, was the opposite. A silent swift soldier, or the ghost of one. Clan in ash-grey and green armor was Qolyiin. On his belt, he carried two vials of poison and a small dagger. Behind these Glatorian were two more, their names unknown. One was a fiery red and leaf green. The other was of two shades of green. Both carried electric staffs, buzzing with tamed lightning. No doubt agents of the Element Lord of Jungle. Where he was sending was them questionable. Their “leader” believed that another spring of Energized Protodermis had pooled up somewhere around the Great Barren. Seems more like an excuse to throw out the trash. But in war, there’s no such thing as freedom. Either follow a blind madman or die standing up to him. The scene changed quickly from flat grassland to a sea of sand. But something else caught their eyes. Thousands of biomechanical entities were constructing a massive… something. What it was, none could say. As far as one looked, it would seem to be some form of vessel. A vessel for what, was another question. Have they angered the Great Beings? Were they going to war against the wrongers? If so, Defaal would be the first to flock to their side. Rhyn was the first to go, greed and pride fogging his mind. Everyone gave chase after him, dashing by the workers. Many of them yelped in alarm, swearing in an unknown tongue. Even their own legs couldn’t catch the scout. Something else, though, did. The four stopped at that something, watching as it choked the life out of the brat. The glow from his eyes faded as they rolled to the sides. His helm snapped apart from the thing’s grip alone. When it turned, they realized that it wasn’t something, but someone. He was a massive being (around the size of a Leader-class Skrall), clan in black-and-silver armor, with hints of ash-grey. Curved, horn-like blades were attached to the sides of his head. He bore emerald-green crystalline eyes, and had a vein-like tube partially coming out from his chest. Each upper arm had a large spike rising from them, more emerging from the undersides of his lower arms. The legs on him looked as though they could knock off one’s head with but a mere tap. The being glared down at the body, then turned to his comrades. “This area is property of the Great Beings,” He said, his voice as deep and shallow as the ocean floor. “You’re trespassing.” One of the unnamed soldiers from behind stepped forward, staff growing ever fiercer. “No,” He dared. “You are the one trespassing. This spring belongs to the Jungle Tribe now!” The guard charged, lifting the staff above his head. He let out a great roar, weapon sailing through the air. The being, though, caught it in midswing with only but a hand. Horrified eyes almost popped out of the small one’s skull. Speaking of that, the guardian’s other hand grasped the troop’s head. He tossed the Glatorian into the air, bringing out a massive Axe. When the soldier was about to make contact with the ground, his opponent brought his weapon down. It sliced right where his waist and torso connected, separating them from one another. Blood of another color splattered across his soon-to-be-grave, the fool made a feeble attempt to crawl back to his comrades. He bled to death before he could do so. They just stared down at his body, then Rhyn’s. “What,” Defaal breathed. “In the name of the Great Beings, are you!?” The entity neared his eyes, a disappointed frown under them. “A monument to all of your sins.” One by one, the soldier-class member fled. Qolyiin was the last to leave, giving a nod to the creature. The dutiful killer returned the notion as the assassin ran off with his comrades. Sighing, he went back into the construction site. As his feet sunk into the hot sands, he couldn’t help but ponder. If the situation was indeed as they described it, why aren’t they trying to repair the planet’s core? Perhaps even their technology has limits. Everything does. Very soon, the people of Spherus Magna would learn that the hard way. He stopped at his destination: A large metal titan, though incomplete, modeled after his soon-to-be enforcers. What were they called again? Ah yes: Toa. He met the first spawn, one of Water. She may have been one of the more recent creations, but she had the spirit of a seasoned veteran. Perhaps her makers programmed some combat tactics into her. Just as they had done for him. He turned to a metallic gate of sort, thought without the doors. As he stepped closer, an image made of pure light appeared. It depicted a barren rock, devoid of life. Or so one would think. The being stepped into the picture, merging with it. It faded, taking him with it. He found himself within a cavern, its stone black as ashes. It’d be pretty dull, save for the main attraction at the center of the chamber. A fleshy pile of madness, covered inch by inch in spiked tentacles. Within the center of the mass was a stomach-turning form, twin hollow eyes glooming. The being ‘smiled’, flesh turning with a disgusting sound. “Sooo…..” He sighed coldly. “What has the spawn have to report this time?” “Five Glatorian from the Jungle Tribe intruded here. Two I’ve slain, the rest fled.” His personal bodyguard replied. The monstrosity rolled his eyes. “Typical. At least it’ll keep them away, though.” “How goes progress of the Matoran Universe?” The nightmare paused. “Temperatures are stabilized, though ventilation and Gravity are still adjusting.” The lower being nodded, then left the same way he came. As soon as he exited the portal, he found himself facing a hooded being around his size. The cloak was pitch-black, the stranger’s face hidden behind a cloak of shadow. Twin dark-green eyes burned like fresh embers of a forest fire. “I take that you’ve been listening?” The Great Being under the hood nodded. “It won’t be long before Mata-Nui’s finished.” “How long before The Shattering occurs?” His employer paused. “….. Only two hundred more years.” His agent lowered his head. “Then we’re running out of time.” He mumbled, the other nodding. “Come with me,” The hooded one began. “I have an important task for you.” When those words fell from his mouth, light consumed the world. One minute, they were in the Great Barren. The next, within a metal cavern of some form. Numerous tools were scattered across the floor, for crafting no doubt. He could vaguely make out other shapes as well. A blinding flare burst into existence, causing all present to cover their eyes. When the bull-like being’s vision was restored, he saw that he wasn’t the only one after all. In one area he could see a tall, muscular titan . His armor was brick-red and silver, his massive hands wielding an ax around the size of his torso. Fierce lime-green eyes sliced through his silver Kanohi Rode. In another corner was the Toa of Water. Helryx, he believed her name was. Then in another was a silver-and black armored being, a little taller than the Rode-barer. Attached to one arm was a six-barreled blaster, the other held three wicked blades. Behind his head, which held lime-green eyes as well, were two long spike structures. In another corner, he could see a hunched back, tailed being. The tail had two long blades on either sides of the end. He had short legs and long arms, the latter each wielding twin-sided blades. He had long, bladed spikes on the sides of his head. Looked like someone fuse two swords on both sides of his head. His dark-red eyes and grey-and-silver armor sent an immediate warning to everyone. He spotted many more beings. One of which was a slick dark-green being. Behind him was another Toa, this one red-and-black, with hints of silver. He bore a silver Pehkui and mechanical wings. There was another Toa, though interlay black, with small hints of silver. He bore an unusual Kanohi, though. One that he’d never seen before. A dozen more beings were present, though shrouded in hoods. “Attention,” Commanded a voiced. All present looked to see yet another hooded figure, though he was somehow….different. He held a higher power of some form, hidden behind his cloak. He removed the cloth that shadowed his identity, revealing the work of an artist. Why, he would’ve been a living sculpture. Milky white eyes dimly lit the chamber, revealing shapes under the hoods of the others. One had a single purple eye, another face was but a blank slate. His employer’s Kanohi Rau (designed in homage to the Ignika) reflected the light. “Welcome, brothers and sisters, to the Hand of Artakha,” He began. “Now, I know that we’re still underway and everything,” He heard a few snickers in the crowd. “But we are in dire need of order. Without the Great Beings or Tren Krom to watch over our world, we have to take matters into our own hands.” The announcer turned his gaze, studying each individual for a nanosecond. “Introductions are in sessions then. Allow me to begin. I am Artahka, brother to Karzahni.” The purple eyed Cyclops raised his hand. “Yes?” Artahka inquired. “I heard that you kicked Karzahni’s behind all the way to Sol Magna. That true?” The being gloated. Another wave of snickers shook the room. The next second, the joker found his leader’s hand around his neck. “Would you like to find out?” He growled. The light from his eyes reveal his victim’s full face. He had a mouth that split into four instead of two. Two fangs covered the mouth up, though. Which made it hard for one to see the cowardly grin beneath them. “No, I’m good.” He squeaked. Artahka tossed the being aside, the latter scrambling to get himself straightened up. After that, each introduced themselves. The red-silver titan being Axonn, the red Toa being Thorrex, the black one being Daxanere, the large black-and-silver being Hydraxon. The long-armed being never really said his name aloud, only whispered it to Artahka. The bull-like being followed suit. After introductions were aside, he turned to the Great Being beside him. “What of Tren Krom?” He asked. His employer didn’t answer for a minute. “He’ll… be relieved from his duty. As for you,” He let out soft laugh. “You have a future ahead with them.” The Great Being faded, leaving his brother’s creation behind. Returned to his duties, no doubt. So…. He began. This “Great Spirit" is in need of guardians? No, not guardians: antibodies. This universe was still new. It lacked the true means of order. This, was what the Hand was about. The Core War can go on for all he cared. It will prove to be their downfall. They started the mess, they clean it up. He had a feeling that he'd have his own as well....
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