DragonRage

"I don't know," Vakama admits, "I suppose it would depend on the size of the tank, what was it it, and why it's exploding."

After cleaning the critter blood off, Mirri gets to work She starts by disassembling her armor, removing the Beskar plates and mail from the undersuit, and setting them in neat rows, as well as popping access panels to expose the electronics inside. Then she ducks into the cockpit of her X-Wing to wiggle out of the undersuit, replacing it with a simple brown robe for modesty's sake, and lays it out as well. She disassembles her blaster, and lays out it and her riot shield. And then she places her lightsaber off to the side.

Rachel takes a few experimental steps. "I think I will be able to walk unassisted. Somehow. And yes. We must go."

"I understand," Rachel whispers, before continuing to speak, louder, but still quietly. "My actions have been compromised. My hatreds, my prejudices... Make it easier for whatever force this is to direct my actions, but even should these be set aside, it will still be there. Though it brings me discomfort to do so in such strange lands, I cannot be trusted with my armaments until this interloper is identified and neutralized. It wishes to use me to destroy the children, and I will die before I allow this. The Emperor has spoken to me; His teachings have been misinterpreted over the millennia since He was confined to the Golden Throne. To destroy the evil is desirable, but above even that... to preserve the good. Humanity... In my world... Has destroyed a lot of evil. How much good have we destroyed too, in our misplaced zeal...?" Rachel plants her right foot on the ground. "At this time, it matters not. There shall be a reckoning, but not now. The present calls; the future can wait. Arminius. Proditor. Should this force attempt to seize control of me again, I will be relying upon your abilities to identify and trap it, that its threat might be ended. The sanctity of my mind rests in your... capable hands," Rachel stands, and takes up her medicae once more, but makes no move to recover her weapons, "I believe that you will not fail me. I will need someone to carry my arms until such a time as I can be trusted with them once again. It would not do for such faithful machine-spirits to lay abandoned in the dirt."

"Masks are pretty tough, you know," Vakama points out, "They don't break easily. In order to damage the Vahi, it had to be blasted off an absolutely immense cliff by one of the Makuta's shadow bolts. I don't know exactly how tall the cliff was, but I've never seen one half as high on this island, and the fall only scratched it. A properly made mask is very tough. Just don't expose it to anything you wouldn't want hitting your face, and it will be fine. And you do have a point, miss. Knowing that you have the mask, as he will if you leave this place with it, the Makuta would be very hesitant to allow extremely strong attacks to strike you or your allies, for fear of the mask being damaged. And a wielder of the Vahi, even inexperienced... He has fought one with power over time before. I saw him fight and triumph. But it was a very close battle, and the Voporak's powers are limited compared to what the Vahi can accomplish. Yes, your point was well made. I will not force it upon your group, but if you wish to take the Vahi... If ever there was a time to use a secret weapon, it would be now."

"Simply stop concentrating on keeping the mask active, or take it off, and any mask will cease to work, all of its effects no longer occurring. The Vahi, to my experience, also works in this manner," Vakama shares, "However, if a change has been made with the mask's power to the world, like rocks moved with a mask of telekinesis or a firestorm stopped with a mask of shielding, those rocks will still be moved, and that fire will not hit you without further outside impetus."

Rachel's pistol falls from her hands, and then she collapses to hands and knees, staring down at the ground. Her breaths come in ragged pants as she tries, and fails, to understand what is happening. The small, charred hole in her skull slowly closes up, until not even a scar is left...

Rachel staggers over to her pile of weapons and withdraws one of her Inferno Pistols, feeling the comforting weight in her hand, the presence of the ancient machine spirit who has seen her through hundreds of battles. She looks down at the simple weapon, adorned only with a pair of golden wings to disrupt its blocky, utilitarian, rugged design. "Heresies... Heresies cannot be tolerated," She whispers to herself. She rises, turns about on her heel, and slowly walks towards the three huddled children. She raises the pistol, holding it in both hands. Her hands are shaking. "The destruction of a human life... The waste of a human life... To keep their SOUL from reaching the Emperor's Throne for their well-deserved rest... These things are heresies. They cannot be tolerated. Heretics must be purged." Sister Rachel's hands steady. "And yet. I do not serve the master of humanity. I serve the Master of Mankind. He is the Emperor of all Terrans. These are not human. Yet they are Terran." Sister Rachel turns her Inferno Pistol to point at her own helmetless head. "I can no longer tell if I am committing heresy or not by allowing these people to live. Those who cannot recognize heresy... are already lost to it. Sic. Sempur, Hereticus." SIZZZZZZT

"I refuse!" Rachel rips her gun belt off and throws it aside. Something isn't right here. Something is manipulating her, and she will. Not. Have it. Because while Asriel and Chara's true story is horrifying... It isn't in the way that should prompt a swift and merciful execution. No, if anything... They performed a foolish act of heresy, yes. But they paid for it. Emperor, did they pay for it. To live through disaster upon disaster, thousands of times over, repeatedly living through the same tragedies, all to save a pair who were damned because they couldn't bring themselves to end a human life unjustly, when logic would give them all the reason in the world to? "No! I will not do it!" Finding her hands migrated to the hilt of her Force Sword, she throws that aside too, "I will not let you use me to kill these children!" She shuts off the pilot light of her Incinerator Flamer and tosses it onto the pile, and then does the same with her combat knife and medicae rig. Falling to one knee, she makes the sign of the Aquila over her armor, and clasps her Rosarius in trembling hands. It is possible, no likely, that she has been... possessed, or else controlled by some psyker. And if her faith cannot protect her... there's only one solution. "The Light of the Emperor surrounds me," Rachel prays with desperate faith. If anyone can save her now, it is He who sits on Holy Terra, the Master of Mankind. "The Love of the Emperor enfolds me. The Power of the Emperor protects me. The Presence of the Emperor watches over me. The Mind of the Emperor guides me. The Life of the Emperor flows through me. The Laws of the Emperor direct me. The Power of the Emperor abides within me. The Joy of the Emperor uplifts me. The Strength of the Emperor renews me. The Beauty of His Imperium inspires me. Wherever I am, the Emperor is. Let HIS WILL BE DONE!"

"I could make the mechanical parts, yes," Vakama tells Cap, "But we are more than just our metal. And that part... I could not construct. "I do think the Makuta obtaining the Vahi would be catastrophic. Not because I think he could wield its full power, but because I know that he thinks he could. And he believed my threat because the Makuta can read minds. He knew that I would do it. He knew that I saw an unknown but catastrophic fate as far preferable to a life under his rule. As for what it takes to wield the Vahi? Strength of will plays a part in using any mask, of course. There is a certain question of physical compatibility, but the Vahi is still a Great Mask, so if you can use those there should not be any physical barrier. Experience wielding great power helps, of course. But truly, the greatest obstacle was my own mind. A stronger will can draw more power from the mask, but for all the power I drew, I could not concentrate on enough things at once to get the mask to do what I desired. Masks that grant an elemental power are exceedingly rare, and these days the materials needed to construct a new mask almost as hard to come by. I couldn't say if this trait is common to all elemental masks, or if the Vahi is special in this way as well. Extreme strength of will, and an unheard-of talent for multitasking. These are what I believe could allow the relatively safe use of the Mask of Time. The Makuta has the first, but not the second. I have experienced his illusions before. He could perhaps wield the Vahi better than I... But he's never been one for the little details, and always been one for grand, sweeping, large-scale endeavors. Sooner than later, he would overreach, and something would slip by his attention. And as they say, it only takes one icicle falling in the wrong place to build an avalanche."

Vakama pulls the orange mask out of the safe, and lays it on his table next to the silver mask and the Toa Stone. "These two," He gestures to the silver mask and the stone, "Take them with my blessing. The toa stone of fire and the Kanohi Miru, the Great Mask of Levitation. But this other mask... It is not like any mask of power... No, any power, that you have ever used before. This is the Kanohi Vahi," He looks down upon the innocuous mask heavily, "The Great Mask of Time. The most powerful Kanohi Mask I have ever seen. Even the Great Masks said to be worn by the Makuta, and other mighty spirits like Atakha and Karzahni cannot compare. Do you truly understand what it means to control time itself? Can you imagine the consequences if you were to... lose control? And worse still, the Vahi is not like other masks. When damaged, it does not cease to function. Instead, its power begins to leak uncontrollably. And if it were to be destroyed... I once threatened the Makuta with the prospect of this mask's destruction. I told him that if the Vahi were to be shattered, time would cease to be linear. All his plots, all his plans, they would become meaningless... Because I or anyone else could simply walk into yesterday and undo them. But truthfully, I do not know if the damage would be so... light. I wore this mask, once. Slowing down a single being for a few seconds was... one of the most difficult things I have ever done, and I could not prevent the mask from slowing myself as well. Turaga Lhikan, a very... old friend and my mentor, sacrificed himself to protect me from the Makuta's bolt of shadow that, slowed as I was, I could not have dodged. Even when used properly, the Vahi is a... troublesome mask. And yet, the power it holds is... It could very well tip the scales in your favor." Kanohi Miru

Rachel stares at Asriel with suspicion. No one should be able to come back from what this being claims to have, and yet... They clearly haven't kept any of the heretical power they once harvested. To give up such power... Even for the sake of a grand plot, even a minion of Tzeentch would be... reluctant to give up such power. If not entirely incapable of bringing themselves to do so. And if Asriel still had such power, 'Flowey' would have used it to escape Arminius well before any of this could have occurred. "No one is invincible," Rachel allows, resolving to watch Asriel carefully, but take no overly... proactive action without further proof one way or the other. Heretics must be purged for their own good... But many great heroes of the Imperium have been lost to an overzealous Inquisitor's bolt pistol. "As long as we fight on the side of humanity, the Emperor is with us. And as He wills it, we shall not fail."

"I see," Rachel nods, looking at Toriel with a strange emotion somewhere between disappointment and understanding, "Without hope, men cannot move forward. And yet, hope borne of vile heresies is a cruel lie. I... cannot bring myself to blame you for your weakness in failing to stop him sooner. Men far more inclined to violence than you have failed when their loved ones turned to evil. And... it is clear to me that to do what is necessary in this case... is antithetical to your nature. Especially when the road to corruption is paved with good intentions. I do not enjoy administering the Emperor's Mercy upon those who turn to chaos with the best of intentions. It must be done, but... It is easily the worst... No, definitely the second worst part of being a battle-sister. Fighting Tyranids is still worse. The damn bugs are just wonderful like that."

"No, I'd expect he isn't," Vakama agrees, carefully working around the last of the safe door, "I've only seen him fight hand to hand twice, and both times he was looking for a chance to use his powers to end the fight rather than simply attempting to end it with his fists or his spear. I would suspect that if you can keep him from simply defeating you instantly, he'd not hold up well in a sword fight." Vakama eases the safe door out of its housing, and sets it aside. Then he reaches in and withdraws a silver mask and the final Toa Stone, the stone of fire, from the brightly lit interior. There's another item in the safe, a small, orange mask, and Vakama's hands hesitate over it. "Is this the right time, I wonder?" He muses, "Destiny is unmoored, strangers from another world travel our shores, the prophecies and legends that were once certain become less so... Matoran lost," Vakama seems to deflate slightly at the thought, "So many matoran lost. More than the Makuta would allow if he were the only one at play here. But is it truly the time for this?"

"Ta-Koro's walls are strong, but if the Makuta desired our deaths, he'd have them," Vakama states. He seems to have gotten about halfway around the door to his safe, "No, he wants to rule us. He wants the adoration and respect given to his brother, the great spirit Mata Nui, after whom our island is named. He can't get that if he knocks down the walls and kills or enslaves us all. And if he hits the wrong place... He can't afford to destroy what I've got hidden here, and as long as he doesn't know where it is, his ability to act is limited. "How long have I fought the Makuta? Depends on how you define it. I've only been face to face with him twice. But I've been working against him for oh, over a thousand years by now. It's certainly not been boring, if a bit slower paced than the early days."

"Well, a bath in lava would certainly destroy everything inside," Vakama confirms, "Even a Toa of Fire couldn't handle that for long. "And no, infected masks aren't forged by the Makuta. He needs a functional mask to make that work, and his aren't that. He uses kraata, these nasty worms he makes out of his own darkness, to do it. If they ooze on a mask for long enough, it becomes infected. We've been capturing them and imprisoning them, not in this city, somewhere else that you don't need to know the location of, to keep them under control. If we killed them, their energy would probably just go back to the Makuta. This way weakens him, however slightly."

"Your majesty?" Rachel raises an eyebrow, "Are you some sort of noble in this place, Toriel?"

Mirri keeps cutting for a while after the creature stops moving, but eventually the fact that her vision is obscured registers, and she staggers back from the corpse, tearing her helmet off with numb, frantic fingers. "Oh. Oh, that wasn't... Oh." A few Jedi calming exercises get her roiling emotions more or less bottled up, and she deactivates her lightsaber and reclaims her lost tools. "And keep your hands off my stuff," She orders the dead creature in a vain attempt to save face, before turning back to her X-Wing and workplace. "Now that that minor annoyance is out of the way, I really need to work on my armor. The magnetic couplings are on their last legs... And the undersuit should probably be replaced, but I don't have a replacement and can't exactly go shopping for one in another universe. ...And I should probably start by getting all this blood off... Wait, blood? From lightsaber cuts?" Mirri is momentarily struck speechless, "That shouldn't be possible."

The walk back to the surface is as uneventful as the walk down, and Cell and Gozer are able to rejoin the group with no trouble. Hahli is surprised that there were no Rahi there to defend the stone, and more than a bit suspicious. Nuparu is more concerned about the Infected Mask, and makes sure to impress Cell on the importance of never letting anyone wear it, as wearing an infected mask lets the Makuta control your mind. Still, the Toa Stone and Kanohi Masks are the real deal, and neither matoran can really complain about nobody being in much danger as the mask is retrieved. With the water stone in your possession, all that's left is to travel to Ta-Koro and retrieve the fire stone. The journey up the Mangai volcano is a rough one. While there is a well-paved road, the incline is fairly steep and the air hazed with vog. As you reach the lip of the volcano, the village... No, the fortress city of Ta-Koro comes into view, a great citadel resting on an island in the center of the volcanic caldera, a thick stone bridge allowing safe if not comfortable passage over the molten rock. The air is sweltering, though survivable, the choking gasses normally associated with an active volcano not reaching the bridge. Red, yellow, black, and blue matoran man the walls and gate, carrying disks, spears, and round shields. As you approach the gate, the great stone slabs slide aside and the portcullis raises, revealing a figure standing on the other side. He's slightly taller than the matoran, despite his stooped-over posture, stern-looking, orange mask contrasting with an armored, black body. The way he stands, leaning on a staff crowned by a flickering, orange-red orb, and the cast of his eyes suggest great age and hard-won wisdom. "So," He begins, voice strong despite his apparent age, "You're the ones who've been going around making such a fuss. Found five of the Toa Stones, have you? And I suppose you want the sixth? Well," He sighs, and turns walking back into the city, "I suppose even the Makuta can't fight destiny forever. The Toa Stones will be united. And the Toa will be called. I am Turaga Vakama. Leader of this village of Ta-Koro. You lot have stirred things up something fierce. Every time you get a stone, the stars change; Turaga Nuju's been quite upset over it. He doesn't like having his foresight disrupted. But he'll come around. We'll all have to," He chuckles, as he leads the party through a bustling bazaar where all sorts of handicrafts are being hawked by enthusiastic matoran, many of whom stop to stare at the strange procession the party makes, "The ways we Turaga used to hide the Toa Stones so long ago are no longer available to us. And I'm getting a bit old to be fighting the Makuta personally. I'd do it if I had to. All of us Turaga would. But our days of heroics are long past and... I'd like to think I could still give him a run for his money, but mutually assured destruction is more realistic. At best. Calling the Toa is the most favorable chance we have, and without you lot... No one knows what's coming now. Things that have been set in stone and in the stars are now mutable and fluid. We won't know what the future holds... But neither will the Makuta, and he can read the stars as well as any of us. It's exciting, in a way. Ah, but look at me ramble on, we've arrived." Turaga Vakama leads the group into a modest hut near the center of the city, nestled against a large citadel in the place of honor. The simple, stone structure has enough room inside to comfortably fit the whole party with room to spare, its insides holding a small forge, bed, and desk, as well as a large, sturdy-looking safe. Lightstones stud the walls, bathing everything inside in a constant glow, leaving nowhere in shadow. "The Makuta's arrogance is not unfounded; his power is immense, beyond our full comprehension. But it's also one of his weaknesses. He'd never expect his old foe, who fought him so many times and lived to tell about it, to live in such modest accommodations. Or to hide the most important things around outside the vaults. No one beats the Makuta in a contest of raw power. But in wits? He might be intelligent, but his character flaws blind him. And in a place like this, one without shadows to lurk in..." Vakama takes his staff and holds it to the safe. A tongue of flame emits from the tip, and he begins using it to cut into his safe, ignoring the lock. "I've rigged my safe with Madu extract," He states cheerily, "And welded it shut. Try to open the lock? It won't work. Try to force it open? BOOM! Try to teleport inside? There's a lightstone in every wall to keep the shadows away. The Makuta's never been as good a metalworker as me. Doesn't have the patience for it, you see. He tried his hand at mask-making once, but he always rushes his work. Quenches too early, hurries his carving, cracks the protodermis, lets the power escape. And with what's in here..." His smile turns fiercely satisfied as he presumably imagines the Makuta falling victim to his trap, "Let's just say that if the Madu extract doesn't get you, you'll wish it had." The elder continues slowly cutting around the door, humming a cheery if slightly unsettling tune. Hahli and Nuparu seem shocked by Vakama's rambling speech; apparently he doesn't normally act like this.

Mirri freezes in horror, losing her telekinetic grip on the Peacemaker. Behind her helmet, her eyes go wide and unfocused, as labored, mechanical breathing fills her ears. KSSSSS.... Huuuuuuh.... KSSSSSSS.... Huuuuuuuuh.... With a scream of inarticulate terror and fury, Mirri charges the creature and starts slashing down at it with her lightsaber in sharp, jerky motions, wielding the weapon like a club as she brutally lays into the dark being.

Mirri notices that Law is having trouble keeping his weapon steady, and reaches out with the Force to stabilize it in a telekinetic grip.

"Oh for! Give that back!" Mirri charges after the tool thief! Those things are irreplacable, dang it! She can't get more without going back to her original universe, and.... NOPE, REPRESS, DENY, TAKE OUT YOUR AGGRESSIVE FEELINGS ON THE THIEF.

"The Sea Tea could be useful," Rachel suggests. As a jump trooper, she always appreciates getting the drop on one's enemies.

Sha'Tith doesn't find any Deadites in the Taco Bell. He does, however, find a large supply of dubious meat, and somewhat less dubious taco fixings. Spider-Man directs Freya towards the Macy's, and then suggests that the group should loot the Taco Bell for food and water, before holing up in the Macy's, which has more room inside and smaller windows than the Taco Bell or the Apple Store. The Avengers will cover small hero-inflicted damages like that in the name of a good cause. Freya is easily able to bring Henry the Skag back to unlife. This display gets a few sidelong glances from the locals, but nobody comments. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hawkeye and Stature will hold the fort outside, and keep anyone who can't take care of themselves from getting inside and feeding the zombies more bodies," Jocasta takes charge, since nobody else seems to have a plan. "Alan will probably be of more use outside, using the mall's security cameras to keep tabs on those zombie hotspots, and his drones will give Hawkeye and Stature more manpower if things go very poorly. I'll enter the mall with Scout (should you choose to join me), rendezvous with your allies and Spider-Man, and then we can clear the mall and stop Doctor Octopus."

"There's something in here with us," Mirri draws her lightsaber, looking around for what it might be, "And my armor needs work. The plates are fine, but the actually complex systems... This isn't a great time for a fight."