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Description
Small feet trudged through the the thick mud, the rain mercilessly pouring down on the heads of the Matoran. They partly wondered why it was that they were out in such foul weather, but silenced their doubts as they looked upon the stone markers of two graves, placed side by side. Many days ago, an unknown evil had invaded their island, leaving them to call for help, a call received by a group who claimed to be known far and wide. Upon their first meeting, the villagers had expected only Toa, but never guessed the many that made up their numbers. There were some Toa, but also Skakdi, Vortixx, and some the matoran or even the Turaga could not recognize. One Toa, a Toa of Plantlife called Anther, took it upon himself to study the one of the mysterious creature ravaging their land. The specimen turned out to have been very much alive, and had... changed the Toa tasked with studying it. When the others had returned to meet him, he was unrecognizable, and one had been so rash as to claim it was another monster whom he would try to fight and defeat on his own, to caught up in the heat of battle to listen to the protest of his teammates, who some, had already died from their journey.

The Turaga tried to keep his composure, even as he shivered in the cold rain, he began to recite the prayers to the Great Spirit,
"Oh Mata Nui, who gave us identity and purpose, we bring before you two souls whom have met their untimely demise, we ask you, he who watches us, guards us, loves us, give these two..."

Suddenly, the earth laid atop one of the hastily prepared graves began to move, the movement was small at first, the soil looking nearly still, but soon the others could all the see something... pushing up from below. Some matoran stepped back others, who were village guards, readied their weapons. The Turaga wasted no time telling his people what was happening.

"One still lives!" He shouted, "Dig him out!"

The matoran were equally hasty, digging with their bare hands into the dirt to save one who would lay down his life for them. When they reached the bottom, they came upon a nightmarish sight, the figure they saw was certainly not the one they had initially buried, it looked almost twice as big as one they placed in that grave, its left arm seemed mostly normal, but his right arm was much bulkier, tried to make out the figure's features, but their vision was obscured by the rain and mud. What was especially chilling was its neck, the Toa they buried here had a an infected neck wound, which was what many believed had killed him. And on this beast of a stranger, there was a healed bite mark in the same place. Then, as if possessed, the creature sprung to life, effortlessly pushing aside the matoran guards trying to stop him and leaping and clawing out of his grave. It approached the Turaga, trying to form words as if it were the first time it had ever spoken with them before.

"What... has happened... to me? Wh-where are my companions? Where is Anther? Where is my brother!?" The creature seemed worried, as if the one he spoke of was in some manner of danger. The Turaga, shocked by either the sudden revelation that one they thought dead still lived, or that of his complection. He was truly hideous! His mask forever fused to his face, his face was like that of some terrifying dragon, his hands and feet adorned with scythe-like claws. A tail was even present, as it stood out twitching randomly. Finally, the Turaga tried his best to force the words from him mouth as he panicked.

"We... we thought you dead!" He pointed to the two graves behind them, "The other, they said he was changed, like you, that you fought him and that you both killed each other!"

The beast's eyes widened, he looked at the graves, then back to the Turaga, he slowly walked to the undug grave. He waited to see if this was instead a horrible dream or perhaps some trick, but as he stood there, it was made clear. He felt completely sick to his stomach, unable to hold his own weight, he fell to his knees, a felt a lump form in his throat, as he wept, he spoke,

"Oh Mata Nui, oh Great Beings above, what have I done? Is this some cruel punishment for my hubris? To make the one closest to me suffer at my hand? Have mercy on my tainted soul!"

He could barely think strait, he sat there in the cold, damp rain as the fog began to close all around him, looking at the final resting place of his friend, his brother. He couldn't accept it! He waited for some something to happen, for some glimmer of hope, but the only answer to his prayers was a bleak sky draped in clouds that denied him the warm comfort of the sun, each drop of rain seemed to weigh him down, his brother's tombstone mocked him with its very presence.

"I am sorry Anther, my brother. You were too good a person for me, it seems"

As he stood up once more, he turned and began to walk away, as he did, one of the younger matoran stopped him.

"Hey, I thought you were a Toa, you don't look like one, what's your name?"

The figure looked at him, pondered his next few words carefully.

"I was called Tyrak once, I don't know WHAT I am now, I guess I'm not anything now..."

The matoran looked on, watching the figure disappear into the fog, the rain still carrying on, its drops drowning out his footsteps when from behind, the Turaga spoke once more,

"May the Great Spirit one day grant him peace."

Description
Small feet trudged through the the thick mud, the rain mercilessly pouring down on the heads of the Matoran. They partly wondered why it was that they were out in such foul weather, but silenced their doubts as they looked upon the stone markers of two graves, placed side by side. Many days ago, an unknown evil had invaded their island, leaving them to call for help, a call received by a group who claimed to be known far and wide. Upon their first meeting, the villagers had expected only Toa, but never guessed the many that made up their numbers. There were some Toa, but also Skakdi, Vortixx, and some the matoran or even the Turaga could not recognize. One Toa, a Toa of Plantlife called Anther, took it upon himself to study the one of the mysterious creature ravaging their land. The specimen turned out to have been very much alive, and had... changed the Toa tasked with studying it. When the others had returned to meet him, he was unrecognizable, and one had been so rash as to claim it was another monster whom he would try to fight and defeat on his own, to caught up in the heat of battle to listen to the protest of his teammates, who some, had already died from their journey.

The Turaga tried to keep his composure, even as he shivered in the cold rain, he began to recite the prayers to the Great Spirit,
"Oh Mata Nui, who gave us identity and purpose, we bring before you two souls whom have met their untimely demise, we ask you, he who watches us, guards us, loves us, give these two..."

Suddenly, the earth laid atop one of the hastily prepared graves began to move, the movement was small at first, the soil looking nearly still, but soon the others could all the see something... pushing up from below. Some matoran stepped back others, who were village guards, readied their weapons. The Turaga wasted no time telling his people what was happening.

"One still lives!" He shouted, "Dig him out!"

The matoran were equally hasty, digging with their bare hands into the dirt to save one who would lay down his life for them. When they reached the bottom, they came upon a nightmarish sight, the figure they saw was certainly not the one they had initially buried, it looked almost twice as big as one they placed in that grave, its left arm seemed mostly normal, but his right arm was much bulkier, tried to make out the figure's features, but their vision was obscured by the rain and mud. What was especially chilling was its neck, the Toa they buried here had a an infected neck wound, which was what many believed had killed him. And on this beast of a stranger, there was a healed bite mark in the same place. Then, as if possessed, the creature sprung to life, effortlessly pushing aside the matoran guards trying to stop him and leaping and clawing out of his grave. It approached the Turaga, trying to form words as if it were the first time it had ever spoken with them before.

"What... has happened... to me? Wh-where are my companions? Where is Anther? Where is my brother!?" The creature seemed worried, as if the one he spoke of was in some manner of danger. The Turaga, shocked by either the sudden revelation that one they thought dead still lived, or that of his complection. He was truly hideous! His mask forever fused to his face, his face was like that of some terrifying dragon, his hands and feet adorned with scythe-like claws. A tail was even present, as it stood out twitching randomly. Finally, the Turaga tried his best to force the words from him mouth as he panicked.

"We... we thought you dead!" He pointed to the two graves behind them, "The other, they said he was changed, like you, that you fought him and that you both killed each other!"

The beast's eyes widened, he looked at the graves, then back to the Turaga, he slowly walked to the undug grave. He waited to see if this was instead a horrible dream or perhaps some trick, but as he stood there, it was made clear. He felt completely sick to his stomach, unable to hold his own weight, he fell to his knees, a felt a lump form in his throat, as he wept, he spoke,

"Oh Mata Nui, oh Great Beings above, what have I done? Is this some cruel punishment for my hubris? To make the one closest to me suffer at my hand? Have mercy on my tainted soul!"

He could barely think strait, he sat there in the cold, damp rain as the fog began to close all around him, looking at the final resting place of his friend, his brother. He couldn't accept it! He waited for some something to happen, for some glimmer of hope, but the only answer to his prayers was a bleak sky draped in clouds that denied him the warm comfort of the sun, each drop of rain seemed to weigh him down, his brother's tombstone mocked him with its very presence.

"I am sorry Anther, my brother. You were too good a person for me, it seems"

As he stood up once more, he turned and began to walk away, as he did, one of the younger matoran stopped him.

"Hey, I thought you were a Toa, you don't look like one, what's your name?"

The figure looked at him, pondered his next few words carefully.

"I was called Tyrak once, I don't know WHAT I am now, I guess I'm not anything now..."

The matoran looked on, watching the figure disappear into the fog, the rain still carrying on, its drops drowning out his footsteps when from behind, the Turaga spoke once more,

"May the Great Spirit one day grant him peace."