After his utter atomization, Icarax's essence flowed throughout the region like radiation poisoning the land. Reassembled after centuries using the power of the Tryna, the Mask of Reanimation, now sits forever bound to and embedded within the egotistical makuta. Kept in a state of undead limbo, Icarax's original Mask of Scavenging, now subsists off of the death around him, as well as his own perpetual undeath. Feasting on his own power comes at great cost, but provides a sizeable boon for overpowering opponents in the moment.
I considered affixing a modified version of the garbage poorly poseable unique shield that was his right arm, I instead opted for a large mechanical claw. I still may make this modification, but... c'mon who doesn't love a big hekkin claw?
I'd love to hear your thoughts! : D
Anyone else have a formative memory seeing this guy's original set in 2008 at Toys'R'Us? I can still smell the plastic in that place. Amazing.
"Laid low by a matoran? Is that what you truly believed?"
Very pleased with how this form came out! Waiting for the orange chains from Bricklink was the correct call! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this crazed bio-mancer!
Mata Nuva lore below the break!
Teridax breathed another sigh of irritation as he crested the stairs into the hall that lead to his throne room in the Darkened Keep. More of his kin reduced to little more than muttering fools.
The Makuta valued his pawns, but refuses to personally help them while the threat that left them as such still remained.
"The Shadowed One come to retake his throne? Roodaka here for... a chat?" his mind mulled the possibilities that lay before the threshold with one of the doors left bent off its hinges, the light from the hall leaking into the endless maw of shadow.
The titan reached the doors and the shadows beyond ripped them apart, allowing their master to enter.
"Well, I must say I-"
"Laid low by a matoran? Is that what you truly believed?" the deep voice resonated with a tone Teridax recognized immediately.
Of all those expected, Karzahni was not among them. The mighty Makuta could not help but stop his march forward for just a beat. But a beat is enough for the Mad God, who is delighted to fill the chamber with his words.
"I am left with two possibilities then, dear brother. Either you believed it or your minions did. Either your mind or your iron grip is slipping and I find either option-" the titan interrupted himself by slamming his fist, "disappointing!"
"He's baiting me. He wants to know what I know of the Matoran who killed him and is egging me with bravado. Better work than I'd anticipated from a Rahi-Headed bag like him," Makuta pondered as the titan in his throne raged on.
Parry.
"You are not one for house calls, old one," Teridax crowed calmly, "...yet I find you in mine."
"HA! Your home? Your Dark halls? You may be Master of Shadows but you are certainly no One of Shadows. You mock my intelligence," Karzahni rose from the throne and proudly strode forth to meet Teridax in the circle of central columns.
"What intelligence? You fill the room with noise to drown out any sense that might resonate within that cursed mask of yours!" Makuta met him in the dim light in the center of the room.
"Don't overplay your hand, dear Teri. You and I both know th-"
Strike.
"It was a Great Being. That killed you."
Karzahni stopped and his eyes flashed to meet Teridax's. "Your, apparently prized, intellect hardly matches your sheer power. That much is clear with your attempt at bluffing. So, what are you here for? To say hello? Some sort of I told you so? Or-"
"Wait, what do you mean it was a Great Being? Like one of the originals?! Ha! Thats how you know to treat me with a little more respe-"
"Or you are here under someone else's behest."
"Karzahni works alone, my friend. You know this better than an-"
"A lie. They wouldn't want you to be near me, however, unless it was to attack on sight, which you didn't. So, you are here to... what... compare offers?"
"I don't. You aren't- What does some Makuta know about- Shut up!"
Makuta drank in the sputtering mess that called itself a god behind him as he turned to walk to his throne.
Killing blow.
"You have nothing to offer anyone. I don't know how you have returned and, my friend, I don't care to. Now leave me. I have plans to rewrite, but, fear not, its not because of your influence on them-" Teridax stopped realizing the titan had gone quiet behind him. Too quiet.
That awkward moment when you were sure that you had taken pictures of a Turahk MOC that you had made, but cannot find them but only realize this after tearing it apart to use for a new MOC that canonically uses pieces of Turahk so it was going to be really cool to see the visual motifs carry over, but there is no record of said motifs.
I can finally mark this one off my list. John BBEG himself reforged from pieces of Turahk and... well... himself.
Still tweaking the wings, as I definitely want them, but might have to get my hands on more Chirox wings to keep the sleek aesthetic with the rest.
I'd love to hear what you think! Also! Lore beneath the break.
Makuta Teridax was felled by Mata Nui in his final actions. The greatest threat the Matoran Universe had ever seen lied dead at their feet.
As the years after the Reformation, the world began to rebuild and better itself, a phoenix burning brighter than their progenitor. New cities, new alliances, and new sciences. Alas, the darkness also rose from its own ashes. Rahkshi Turahk spread the Shadow Collective's influence far, and his oppressive mastery of fear made the weak willed fall in line before him. Even those who resisted his innate power, were swayed to the Collective's side when he produced a dark artifact that held a fraction of Teridax's power. An artifact that, given enough pure Protodermis, could resurrect the Father. In a heavily weakened state, but Turahk kept that fact, along with the artifact shard itself, close to his chest.
As his influence grew, Turahk finally had the breakthrough in finding a source of the, now scarce, pure Protodermis: a simple foundry in the Fe-Nuva region. He was furious with his subordinates that it took them decades to find it, while it was, almost comically obviously, named ProtoForge, however his rage was cut short by opportunity. A stroke of fortune found the crimson Rahkshi, as the ProtoForge seemed to be protected by two measly toa, one of which was missing half her body already.
Making an immediate summons to the strongest of the Shadow Collective, Turahk brought several of his own personal guard to meet at the ProtoForge. Disgraced Toa Orde and Nidhiki met him there, as well as former Dark Hunter, Lariska. They would need to protect the Forge as he cast himself within the pools, his form as sacrifice in the ritual to bring Teridax forth.
The crew was able to effortlessly take out the automated defenses, but did not bother to move quietly. They were met with the two protectors of the ProtoForge, Toa Kohla and Toa Null.
The two were quickly outmatched by the Shadow Collective's numbers and strength. While to kill is seen as taboo, even for the most cruel of cutthroats, Turahk had specifically chosen his allies in this moment to have no such qualms. The stakes were too high to tarry with these morals.
The fates of Kohla and Null were sealed... until a surprise boon came in the form of Razor the Hated. His attacks blindsided the Collective, granting a very small window of escape. Dragging the unconscious form of Null behind him, Kohla and Razor fled, unaware of the consequences that would soon befall them.
---
Waking up in a cave that looked somewhere in the middle of trash heap and workshop, Null immediately sprang to her feet, readying herself to fight the invaders.
Razor puts a hand up as he stares out into the forest beyond.
"Do you feel it?" his raspy voice echoed in his mask.
"Where am I? Why did you-"
"I need that forge as much as you," he answered, flexing his deteriorating mechanical arm. "If not more..."
Razor turned towards the Toa, "Your friend is safe. She is resting in the room beyond this curtain and your weapons are on you. I know how comfortable you are with them," his eyes darting to scars on his form.
Null's hand flashes to her lightblade, flaring it up between herself and Razor, "I am going back. We cannot lose the forge-"
Again he interrupted, "It is already lost. And again, I ask..." he takes a step toward her, "Do. You. Feel. It?"
Now more in control of her senses, Null takes a breath and focuses on the energy coursing through the world. The smallest of tugs as she feels Kohla move restlessly in the room over. The searing and vile hate constantly emanating from Razor. Her own body, finishing its boot sequences. And... a presence that should not be. One that cannot be.
Her concerned look was enough of an answer for Razor.
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