#roxtus

[sepublic]

Realistically speaking, the Agori Villages should be much bigger than they’re depicted in visual media. Even if we go by the canon height of 2/3 the Great Spirit Robot’s, and then apply Faber’s smaller estimate of the GSR’s height, then like. Each piece of the robot should be the size of a small country by minimum, and much taller than Mount Everest. Roxtus is straight-up puny compared to what it should be in all of its visual depictions.

After all, we know each village’s piece of the robot acts as its primary housing structure, so the interior of these villages should be suitably vast too; Big enough to hold islands from the Matoran Universe, for reference! The inside of each village should be a colossal dark cavern, the size of the Matoran Universe’s domes. These aren’t so much villages as they are city-state fortresses, like the one the Golden-Skinned Being created for the Skakdi; Feats of architecture far beyond that of any human creation, each village making all of humanity’s largest creations combined look puny. Even if the pieces aren’t that big compared to the planet they’re on, they should be incomprehensibly huge to the Agori, who are around human height.

Granted, it’s possible that the Prototype Robot’s pieces are mostly buried (as seen with Knee Island), leaving relatively little above the sand to work with- But then that just makes the assembling of the Agori Mega-Village even more of a logistical nightmare, because now everyone has to dig these up like an archaeological dig site unparalleled. It’s honestly kind of hilarious to me, even as a child, that the Agori just. Decided to pull and push their villages together, and that somehow worked.

The manpower and logistics of physically dragging such massive structures across the sand must’ve been nightmarish, but they just went ahead and did this, because they deemed it the most viable solution to their settlements being far apart. It’s literally that meme where Patrick suggests pushing Bikini Bottom elsewhere, but it actually unironically works, nobody questions it, and it’s treated as a totally feasible and symbolic feat that is begun and wrapped up within the end of 2009. Amazing.

On another note, it’s a shame most of the Prototype Robot’s pieces are unseen up until they’re put together. Like the twist with its successor the Great Spirit Robot, the big reveal is kind of ruined by the fact that there isn’t as much build up as there could’ve been; Only Vulcanus, Knee Island, and Roxtus look like actual pieces of a robot, and nowhere close to a full robot put together. The other villages don’t seem to have any giant pieces based on their visual depictions, which feels a bit incongruent. It’d be cool to see glimpses of the Prototype Robot’s other body parts scattered across Bara Magna; Like a hand re-enacting the Three Finger Island concept, planned and cancelled as far back as 2001, but finally given symbolic life through the in-universe concept for the GSR.

[ask-sahmad]

Journey Through the Black Spike Mountains, Chapter 5: Screams

The splashing footsteps grew closer and closer, echoing and building through the tunnels. Yet just as I could barely stand the noises any longer, they... stopped.

I glanced at Phantom. He glanced at me. Apparently, even where he came from, noises didn’t just stop like that. Silently, I gestured to the corner and nodded to advance.

Weapons at the ready, we crept slowly through the waters, leaving telltale ripples. The louder noise, to me at least, was the pounding beat of my own heart. What if our enemy had turned invisible, like Phantom? Or cloaked its own sound? From the look behind Phantom’s mask, it wasn’t impossible. My entire body tensed, as if I stood at the edge of an abyss, teetering, ready to fall in. With some difficulty, I willed myself another few steps forwards, turned, and raised my eyes to see...

Nothing.

And suddenly, everything.

A chorus of screaming battered my mind, even as psychedelic images, foul taste and smell, and waves of energy washed over my body. It lasted only an instant, but when I rose again, it felt as if I’d been battered non-stop for an hour.

That wasn’t my biggest problem, though. What was of slightly more concern was the biomechanical being standing over me, muscles and tissue bubbling over pistons and gears, twisted face sneering down at me behind a lopsided mask.

“What in hell is that?” I demanded of Phantom, but he had less of an idea than I did. To his credit, he didn’t hesitate any longer. The Dark Hunter leapt from the water and bowled over the enemy, wrestling it to the ground.

Then it screamed -- and in that scream was the sound of every scream I’d ever heard. The sobbing of Agori as I handed off the chains, the shrieks of maddened Iron Tribe villagers, the final battle cry of Telluris. I was staggered, and nearly joined the creature on the ground.

Phantom heard it, too, and leapt back from the monster, clutching his mask. “No,” he sobbed, speaking to someone who wasn’t there. “Stop screaming! I am not a monster! I’m not!”

The real monster was getting back to its feet. Now I could see it more clearly, much to my chagrin. It had a Skakdi’s smile, but the eyes of a Matoran, and three heartlights scattered around its torso. One arm ended in wicked talons, and the other in leech-like tendrils. Its legs were shredded and scrambled, and shouldn’t have been able to support its weight, but it stood nonetheless.

The creature looked down at Phantom and let out a howl containing the same chorus of screams. I heard it all again, a rush of all the pain and fear and sadness I’d seen, and Phantom sobbed as the sound struck him again. I saw this howl for what it was: not an attack, but a yell of triumph.

The creature grabbed Phantom in its tendrils and raised its claws to strike. It looked hungrily down, almost enraptured, as some sort of energy began to stream from Phantom’s mask into its tentacled grasp. It saw victory approaching.

What it didn’t see was my thornax.

As the monster staggered back, smoke curling from its blasted torso, Phantom found the strength to rip off its tendrils and leap to his feet. “You -- you resisted it?” he said wondrously. “How? That was the most painful noise I’ve ever...”

“Simple,” I replied, loading and firing once again. “I heard a lot of pain and heartache in that shriek, it’s true. But I also heard the screams of my most hated enemy. You know, a scream can be a beautiful sound, when it’s made by the right person.” Another explosion, and another scream. “Case in point.”

Behind his mask, Phantom grinned. “You raise an excellent point, Sahmad.” He stepped forwards, grabbed the skull of the screaming creature, and snapped its neck with a fluid motion.

Merciful silence rose in the tunnels once more. Phantom and I breathed heavily, standing over the still corpse of the mangled creature.

“What was that?” Phantom asked, cleaning off his blade in the waters.

“I was hoping you knew,” I replied. “But at least it’s dead.”

Phantom frowned. “It wasn’t the only one. I heard more than one being moving in these tunnels.”

Sure enough, a distant splash sprang into our ears. Then another, in the opposite direction. “We don’t have time to linger. If this one’s buddies were anything like it, I’d rather get out of here, fast, than stick around to meet them.”

Phantom wasn’t about to argue with that. As we set off down the tunnels, headed for the entrance we’d used to get in here, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell we had just killed. And what, if any, connection it had to the voice I’d heard in my head.

No. Annona is dead, I reminded myself.

We ran. Water splashed everywhere, echoing off the walls and down the tunnels, inevitably giving away our position, but Phantom and I no longer cared. After seeing what we had just seen, we had no stomach to stay in this place another moment.

I’d thought the screamer was bad news. I hadn’t met his friend. Phantom had darted around a corner, then come running back at such a speed that he nearly bowled me over. Even now, he was muttering to himself, trying to keep his mind off of the horrors chasing us.

I couldn’t resist; I looked back. I still regret it. I can’t even begin to describe the creature in words; it was beyond my brain’s ability to understand. Even turning away from it, I could see echoes of its hideous form all around, leering out of the water, the rocks, the air in front of me. I shut my eyes, but the image was burned onto the interior of my eyelids.

The unknowable thing was advancing down the tunnel after us. At least, I thought so. I couldn’t really be sure where it was. I just knew I had to be far, far away from it.

That was going to be harder than I realized. As we darted around a corner, I heard a horrible melting noise from behind, and felt my stomach curl in revulsion. Instinct won out over judgment, and I glanced back to see the rock wall disintegrating into blood behind us. Stepping through the muck was a towering titan with a melted face and claws reaching, reaching...

“You couldn’t go any faster, could you?” I asked of Phantom. Without a response, he grabbed hold of me and quickened his pace, feet barely skimming the water. This wasn’t one of his powers -- this speed was fueled by pure fear and desperation.

We turned another corner, then another. Behind us, the crimson creature advanced, turning rock to blood with its touch, staining the waters of the tunnel red. And somewhere in the labyrinth, the chittering noises of the thing echoed.

Finally, we hurtled down a tunnel and through a cave mouth, into the dim light of early morning. Phantom didn’t stop until we’d crossed to where the Baranus was tethered. Without hesitation, I leapt into the chariot and cut my spikit loose. She didn’t need any encouragement; she ran the fastest I’ve ever seen.

Yet again, I couldn’t help myself. I had to check if they were gaining on us. I looked back at the dead city of Roxtus, shadows slithering among its spiky terrain. I saw a crimson titan emerge into the night, but it went no further than the tunnel threshold. A garbled howl echoed through the mountains, and then it turned and stalked back into the underground.

The feeble light of the stars alerted me to another figure, standing on a tall spire overlooking the dead city. A glint of gold flashed in the darkness, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have said the creature was Goldie. But this one was smaller, squatter, and where Goldie had an aloof and omniscient aura around him, this creature exuded pure menace.

Somehow, I thought the creature might have noticed my chariot, and I could have sworn I locked eyes with it. I quickly yanked my gaze away, urging the spikit around a bend and out of sight of the haunted place. At a time like this, curiosity was no virtue.

[ask-sahmad]

Journey Through the Black Spike Mountains, Chapter 4: The Dead City

Solis Magna was slipping beneath the horizon, and a lavender sky heralded darkness. “Where will we make camp?” Phantom asked.

“We won’t. I know a place nearby,” I replied, steering my spikit down a sloped trail to the right. Phantom hovered along beside, using his power of limited flight to trail the high-speed chariot. “The accommodations are pretty bare, and the service is horrid, but at least there will be plenty of vacancies.”

Within the hour, we had come within sight of my destination: Roxtus. Or rather, what remained of it. The Agori had dragged off Skull Mountain, and most of the city with it. Arena Roxtus was trampled and derelict; Skull Mountain had crushed most of its spires to dust and crumbled the Skrall emblem carved in the ground. All that remained of Roxtus were the scattered huts, outposts, and prison cells built into the Black Spikes around its perimeter. But they would have to do.

“Keep an eye out for Skrall,” I mentioned as the Baranus trundled along the main road towards the ruined city. “Most of them steer clear of here -- they hate to see a reminder of their defeat -- but there could still be a few roaming around here.”

“Skrall. Pardon, but who or what exactly are ‘Skrall’?”

“Black armor, grey skin, big egos,” I explained. “Members of a warrior tribe from the north. They used to be our biggest trade partner, before the plague. I did a lot of dealing with them. After the Shattering, I did some more dealing with them, but in a different industry.”

“Yes... you did mention,” Phantom recalled. “I can’t say the thought of traveling with a slaver is comforting to me. Many of my people were enslaved by the Makuta and other races.”

“In another age, another life, I would regret it,” I said, shrugging. “But if the Agori wanted me to treat them well, they should have thought of that when my people were dying and they did nothing to help. Half of the slaves I brought to Roxtus were guards who had personally turned me away at the borders.” That was an exaggeration, but not a huge one, and it seemed to satisfy Phantom.

As the dusk gave way to darkness, we searched and found a cave hollowed into one of the rocky hills that had once held Skull Mountain. Cold water blanketed the floor. This would have been a Skrall patrol route, carved so that an intruder’s splashing footsteps would have been echoed and amplified by the acoustics of the cave. It was a brilliant piece of engineering, though I’d never seen it in action. “Hopefully, it will give us fair warning if anyone happens to come wandering,” I said.

Phantom curled up in a small nook in the wall, and within a few moments, his lights had dimmed and his movement slowed. For my part, I found a less damp bank off to the side, unrolled my tattered mat, and slipped off as much armor as I was comfortable with. I’d long since gotten in the habit of sleeping with my armor on. If I were woken by a cave scorpion charging down the corridor, I wouldn’t have five minutes to strap on my armor and flee -- I’d be dead.

With such comforting thoughts on my mind, I gathered what warmth I could find and slipped off into sleep.

I stood on the peak of Rock Lord’s Finger, one of the tallest and sharpest of the Black Spikes. From here, I could see the whole of Spherus Magna laid before me. To the north, Bota Magna’s verdant forests and rich mountains loomed; to the south spread Bara Magna, deserts replaced by green meadows and thriving cities; and on either side lay Aqua Magna, with that infinite aura of majesty afforded to the ocean. I could make out Goldie’s fortress on the banks, and several artificial archipelagos halfway out to sea.

Above it all hung the two moons I’d grown to know, blue and green, always watching. Somehow I got the sense that wasn’t right, but I was too caught up in the moment to care. It was Harvest’s Eve at the base of the Iron Mountains, and I’d just been pulled onto the dance floor by my lover. I hesitated -- dancing has never been my strong suit -- but with a few more drinks downed, I was just as wild as any other Iron Tribe Agori.

Exhausted, I staggered over for another drink, and maybe a bit of a rest. I sat down on an empty couch occupied by Tuma and Goldie. Tuma laughed and made a toast to the kings of this world, to the Skrall emperor, the Skakdi wish-maker, and the richest merchant of all the tribes. At the other end of the desert, I could see Metus glowering in rage and resentment, and I laughed. His pitiful exsidian trade would melt like ice, but iron would last forever.

I was moderately surprised when an explosion blossomed from behind, tearing apart the couch and throwing Tuma to the winds. I staggered to my feet to see a line of biomechs advancing, wearing their strange masks and brandishing unfamiliar weapons. At the head of the column was none other than Telluris.

“Telluris!” I chuckled. “What a way to crash a party!”

The Iron Glatorian didn’t say anything. In fact, his face didn’t change. Too late, I realized that was because it wasn’t his face -- it was a mask, just like one of those Kanohi. I wondered what was behind it, and at the same time I was sure I didn’t want to know.

But Telluris never really cared what I thought. Keeping his high-tech blaster leveled at me with one hand, with the other he reached up and undid the clasps on his mask. His face and helmet fell away to reveal a shining orb of crimson light, tentacles extending outwards, voice both whispering and yelling at the same time.

A scream began to echo from behind, at first distant, but quickly getting louder and louder, until it consumed the world. I was on my knees, the biomechs were faltering, even Goldie was crumpling. All but Annona, still holding Telluris’ face in her hand. The screams became louder than I had ever thought -- I couldn’t hear anything else -- and I realized with a gut-wrenching sob that I recognized the voice doing the screaming...

Rough metal hands shook me awake. I looked up to see Phantom’s rust-red Kanohi, with his eyes gleaming behind it. “Someone’s coming,” he hissed. “And I don’t think they’re Skrall.”

Sure enough, as I splashed the sleep from my eyes with water and threw on my armor, I could hear the telltale pistons and gears of biomechanical movement. A biomech was advancing on our position, and a large one at that. No, not just one... two, at least, or maybe three or more. All the rebounding echoes made it hard to tell.

“Can’t a guy get some sleep?” I grumbled meaninglessly as I took up my blade and my launcher. I only had three thornax left; I would have to restock when I got out of here. If I got out of here. Phantom held no weapons; he stood tensed, ready to pounce like a wild predator at the first person he saw.

As the biomechs got closer and closer -- just one more corner and they would be here -- the screams came again in the back of my mind, and among their frenzied notes, I thought I heard a vile voice whispering to me.

It’s time, Sahmad, crooned Annona. Time you joined me in death.