//------------------------------// // 8: Chilly Contacts // Story: Infinity's Edge (Beta) // by Caldoric //------------------------------// What I saw behind the transparent dome of the rebreather shocked me. Nearly my entire facial structure had changed. My nose was much flatter, nearing the proportions of Voldemort's nose as portrayed in the movies. My mouth was wider, and my lips had become almost nonexistent. My jaw and cheekbones had widened noticeably, as well as having been covered in some black substance I didn't recognize right off the bat. At first glance, I'd thought that it was burnt skin because of the tendrils of the stuff that trailed away from it, like electrical burns. Then I realized it was that my original assumption had been wrong. My skin there was healthy as ever, but it had begun transforming into the same kind of leathery skin as I had discovered on my arms a moment ago. And it was spreading the fastest along the circuit-like lines on my face, turning them black. The change had already reached my eyes, the whites of which were, in turn, beginning to transition to a familiar lime green color around the edges. From what I could see, my ears also seemed a bit higher than I remembered them being. They were now definitely above eye level. My earlobes, which had once hung independent of the side of my head, were now stretched almost to the point of nonexistance. Fortunately this hadn't affected the lone piercing in my right ear, which played home to a simple, gunmetal-grey ball bearing stud. No, I was unaware of the traditional meaning behind having just one's right ear pierced when I had it done, but when I found out later, (it's meant to signify that one is gay,) I was all like "you know what, screw labels." As my mouth opened in shock, my eyes were drawn back to it once more. I saw that my teeth, (the top row of which had been a bit... off in the front,) were more normalized, and quite obviously had a more pointed quality to them. And my tongue... it had split, starting at the tip and stopping again about an inch or so back. Needless to say, that freaked me out. I mean, my tongue (and the rest of my face, come to think of it,) had definitely been feeling weird since I'd gotten the urge in my head to try to lick that damn crystal, but I'd just chalked that up to aftereffects and general healing or whatever. I hadn't expected this. Long story short, my face was starting to look disturbingly more like that of a Night Fury, and less like a human. The only possible explanation for this sudden acceleration was that the energy the crystals had zapped me with had had something to do with it. Stowing the necklace back under my armor, I turned the Mask of Adaptation over in my hands and stared at it, unseeing. "Caldoric?" Asked Sans. "What the hell's going on? What's up with yer face?" "I... I have no real idea. A hunch or two, but nothing solid." Actually, I was pretty sure now what had happened, but I needed proof before I went shouting it to the world. I turned my unfocused eyes back to the Mask, as I thought back to a series of books I'd never got around to finishing, by the name of "Pendragon." It was about this kid who goes hopping between worlds, and each world has it's own set of rules, sort of. There must be something similar going on here. I had to play by the rules, even if it meant taking a form more in line with the local fauna, sentient or no. As to why this hadn't happened to the other humans who'd shown up... why they'd only become Toa, while I was turning draconic... I had my suspicions, and none of them good. I'd need to speak with Makuta when I got back home. I mean, back to base. Dammit. That spot in the woods that I'd claimed as my own was nothing more than a base, despite all that I'd done to make it liveable. Home was millions of miles away, and I had no way of getting there just yet. Yet another thing I'd have to deal with once we got out of here... I was starting to get fed up with all these shenanigans. I thought back to almost two weeks ago, in the museum. Should I have stopped, and let them have the masks? Perhaps things wouldn't have been so stressful if I had. Yes, it was kind of fun here, but... was it worth it? Losing 5 years with my family and friends? Heck, I didn't even know if they were still living in the same house anymore. I was pulled from this new downward spiral by Kapura's hand on my face shield, turning my head to face him. His eyes, from what I could tell, were scrutinizing the altered details of my new face, taking in every inch. There was curiosity there, and sadness. Pity, perhaps? I softly pulled my head from his grasp, then placed it in the palms of my hands and sighed. "The caterpillar sheds his skin, to find the butterfly within," said Kapura, quite sagely, though there was a discernable quantity of concern there. I felt Sans rest a bony hand on my shoulder. "We should get moving," he said, not unkindly. "Yeah, you're right," I said, and groaned a bit as I stood up. "Oh, hello legs," I continued, as the appendages in question tingled and made their objections known from having been seated for so long. Once they'd calmed down, we climbed down the side of the building. Upon reaching the bottom, I took a wide stance, locked my fingers together, and swung my arms and upper torso sharply from side to side a couple times. This elicited several audible pops from my spine, which had been feeling slightly out. I tipped my head to one side, then the other, bringing forth more pops from my neck. Sans gave me a concerned look. "That can't be good for you," he commented. "Oh, please," I replied, rolling my eyes as we began walking, "I do it all the time." "Um, pardon my asking, but what exactly was it that you just did?" Asked Voriki, a slightly sickened look on his face. "I was just popping my back. Some of the vertebra were slightly out of alignment, which happens to me from time to time. If I let it go for too long, it can literally cause me headaches, especially the ones in my neck." "But how do they get out of alignment in the first place?" "Eh, bad posture, carrying heavy loads, sleeping in a weird position, things like that. It's sorta natural for me. Not to mention, I think I've been exacerbating it because I don't often take off my armor." "Um... Should I be worried about doing that?" I waved a hand airily. "Nah, you're fine. Your armor is sort of part of your body. It is possible to remove it, but it makes you feel weaker. Especially if you were to lose your mask, that's a big no-no. Always keep that on. Same thing for other Toa, or Matoran like Kapura here. But humans, like what I used to be, don't wear armor all the time. We don't have the strength or dexterity to do so. The individual pieces of armor, being made of Protodermis or Protosteel, are much lighter than what we mad armor out of in the old days, but when added up as a whole, it's still a rather heavy set of metal plates you're carrying around on your back, and extra weight beyond that makes it worse. "For example, those wings I had back in Karda Nui? Those threw me off a little when it came to balance and such. Speaking of which, where are they now?" I asked, looking over my shoulders. I'd just noticed their absence. "They vanished after you changed back from being a Turaga," Kapura pointed out. "And then your cape came back!" I hadn't noticed its disappearance when it happened, but it made sense. Wouldn't want it getting sucked into the engines of the wings, or creating drag. Matter of fact... my cape had probably turned into the wings, in a sort of "equivalent exchange" type thing. As I returned from my tangent, I began gesticulating to emphasise my point. "Anyways, folks like you or Kapura, collectively known as either Spherus Magnans or Bionicles, are what're known as 'biomechanical beings,' meaning you're part organic, and part machine, hence the presence of pistons and servos and stuff like that on your body, which augments and compliments your organic strength, as well as giving you a vastly expanded lifespan." I gestured to Sans and myself at this time. "But folks like Sans and I are completely organic in nature. Barely a trace of metal in our bodies, and even that's in our blood, carrying oxygen to various places, keeping us alive. Your body automatically repairs itself much faster than mine or Sans' can. Toa can still die, of course, but they're naturally resilient, and harder to kill because of their elemental powers." Voriki looked down, considering this. "That's... a lot to take in." He said at last. "Oh, then just wait till I can show you the backstory for this whole world." His eyes widened a bit at that. I smiled, and looked up at the "sky," noting the faintly shining twin "Suns." I was pretty sure they were really the eyes of the GSR, or something like that. I mean, somewhere up there was his face, right? Metru Nui had been the brain of the Robot back when it was running. "So," I said, changing the subject, "how far to the Great Furnace?" "Oh," said Kapura, straightening up, "sorry, it's this way." He turned around, and headed back the way we came, but didn't go more than a little ways before turning down a side road. We followed close behind. "It's not far." "By the way..." said Voriki, making me jump. He'd silently moved up to walk by my side while I wasn't paying attention. "You never explained the giant robot thing." "Jegus, man," I said, hand on my chest, "don't scare me like that." I then chuckled weakly. "My apologies," he said, dipping his head momentarily. "Ah, no harm, no foul." I replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And you're right, I do owe you an explanation." And so I gave him the short and sweet of it, doing my best not to ramble and tangentialize: how it had been made to explore the universe, learning about other planets and life forms and such, so as to fix the planet that had been known as Spherus Magna... THIS planet, Terra-1. I then went on to explain the highlights of the main Bionicle storyline, such as Makuta's antics, the adventures of Toa Mata, Metru, and Ignika, then Makuta's coup and subsequent war on Bara Magna. Finally, I summed up with the reuniting of Spherus Magna, the supposed death of Teridax, and the 400 million year gap between then and now. "Cool story, bro," said Sans, once I'd finished. "Yeah, wow," agreed Voriki, "that's.. heavy stuff right there. No wonder you wanted to wait till we got outside..." I nodded. "Of course, that's a heavily summarized, semi-biased, secondhand account of things. You'll definitely want to hear it from Turaga Vakama, though. He and the other former Toa Metru are great storytellers." "Hmmm," said Voriki, running a finger along the bottom of his mask, "sounds like a plan." "Yep," I said, then took a moment to think. "Now that I mention it, I'll have to speak with Vakama as well... see if he might know a way for me to get home..." I was, understandably, thinking of a particular Kanohi he had in his possession. Or, I hoped he still had it... "We're here!" Announced Kapura, spreading his arms wide. And indeed we were. Before us was the largest building I'd ever seen in person. Not the tallest, mind you, but the largest. The tallest one would be the Space Needle in Seattle, though the Great Furnace definitely ran a close second. This was wider by far. It had to be, because if the network of forges and smelteries here in Ta-Metru were in any way like a human circulatory system, then the Great Furnace was the heart itself. It had provided all the molten protodermis to the various workers back in the day. I stepped forward, and laid my hand on the latch of the front door. I had barely begun to turn it, when I heard shifting metal nearby. We all turned to see several slender, multicolored robotic figures emerging from some of the nearby piles of scrap and general debris. Most of them were familiar, but none were a welcome sight. From around a corner, two more of the smaller figures stepped out, one green, and the other black, wearing gigantic suits of Exo-Toa armor. To this day, I'm not sure where the hell they got ahold of those... A white-armored figure that was slightly taller than Voriki stepped forward, raising it's staff weapons. In a cold, clear, synthesized parody of a voice, it said something I didn't understand. Well, it's mouth moved, so I assumed it was speaking. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit......" I said, "Vahki... and I think they're the talking type." "It said 'halt,' I think," replied Voriki. "That is a correct assumption," agreed Kapura. All our eyes turned to him. "Ok," I said, "you're officially the group's translator." The white Vahki uttered another strange string of syllables, sounding angrier this time. I carefully raised my hands in a sort of "I surrender" gesture, with Sans and Voriki following suit. "Alright, alright," I said, "sorry!" "Um, he said 'stop speaking nonsense, immediately, or we will fire," muttered Kapura, and then he turned his attention to the Vahki. He uttered more strange sounds, and this time I noticed they sounded something akin to Hawaiian, if what little I'd heard of it was anything to go by. Something in my head clicked, and I realized what language he must be using. "It must be Maori, or something close," I muttered, thinking aloud. "What's 'Mah-oh-ree'?" Asked Voriki, quietly. He, like Sans and myself, had his hands in the air, and was giving me a confused look. "It's a language used on my homeworld by the native folk of New Zealand, whose culture bears the same name. Years ago, the LEGO--" There was an abrupt burst of Matoran from the white Vahki, who jabbed it's staff in our direction. Kapura quickly waved his arms, and responded in rapid-fire Matoran, which seemed to calm the figure, but only just. The Vahki in the exo-toa armor were getting antsy, and seemed to be looking for an excuse to maim or kill us. "He says..." Began Kapura, "he says we are in an area that is off limits to the general public, and are to be detained for questioning as to our origins. Not to mention, we've got several charges against us: trespassing, breaking and entering, flying unlicensed vehicles in a legal no-fly zone, parallel and double parking, and other things." I winced and swore, then turned to the lead Vahki. Clasping my hands together in front of me, I bowed forward at the waist by about 10-20 degrees, then began spewing apologies and assurances that we'd rectify the situation as soon as possible. Kapura translated, hopefully giving the gist of what I was saying. Sans wasn't too happy about how quickly I turned submissive in front of these mechanical strangers, and made his displeasure known. "What's the deal, Caldoric?" He asked. "Why're you so afraid of these guys? We could take 'em, easy." "No!" I said, firmly. "These're the local equivalent of policemen. And odds are, if there's this one group still up and running after all this time, then there's bound to be hundreds, if not thousands, of others running about. I'm not eager to end up on the wrong side of the law. Are you?" Sans shook his head. "Good. Now, no fighting, unless shit hits the thresher, 'k?" "Alright..." He said, admitting defeat. The white Vahki shot a string of sound at me, and judging by the raised tone at the very end, it was a question. It also sounded a bit frustrated. "He asked if we're sure there's no way for us to communicate more clearly," translated Kapura. "I don't know..." I said, rubbing the respirator, before having an idea. "No, wait, I think I saw something..." I pulled out a couple of the magic books, and flipped through them. I could see in my peripheral vision that some of the Vahki seemed curious or suspicious. A few of the red ones even seemed to be getting impatient, and some of the others had to calm them down. "Aha!" I shouted triumphantly, jabbing one page in particular. "A translation spell! But... Oh, jeez, this is complicated..." Kapura explained what I'd found, which seemed to interest the lead Vahki. Through Kapura, I told him what the spell was supposed to do, assuming it worked. "After all, I'm still new to this whole magic thing myself." He nodded, and motioned for me to carry on. Setting the book down, and putting the others away, I summoned as much energy as I could between my outstretched palms, and followed the instructions in the book as best I understood them. I formed, as closely as possible, the proper "shape" in my mind, selected my target, and cast the spell. The sphere of energy sank into the white Vahki's chest area without leaving a mark, and he staggered back a step as I sagged to my hands and knees. He glowed for a moment, then returned to normal. "Did it work?" Asked Voriki. The lead Vahki looked at him, taken aback, and nodded. He said something to the others, who visibly relaxed. All this had somewhat unnerved me. From what I remembered of the old storyline, the Vahki didn't have emotions, or act the way they had been here lately. There was no conversing with them back in the old day. If they thought you were guilty of something, they'd hunt you down and take you in, not stop and talk. "So..." I said, trying to stand up, "you guys seem... different from the Vahki I've heard about." As if to prove my point, the lead Vahki stowed one of his staffs and helped me up, speaking as he did so. Kapura provided the translation. "In what way do you mean 'different'? Do you, perhaps, speak of those who came before the Great Surge? Or those who survived the Invasion of Shadows?" The Great Surge... Could that be referring to when Teridax had absorbed all the power in the city during the Great Cataclysm? After all, that had caused a feedback loop that had destroyed most of the Vahki units who had been hooked up to charging points back then. Most of those who survived had been damaged in such a way that they became able to "speak." Of course, they'd always been able to, but they had previously done so at such a high speed and pitch that only other Vahki could hear and understand it. And then there was the Visorak invasion... During that time, it was said that the remaining units had been wiped out by the invaders. But... Maybe some of them had developed some form of self-preservation trait, and left the dying city, and escaped that grizzly fate? That would explain the stories I'd heard of Vahki units in some far-off city called "Manehattan" during the war with the Makuta a couple years ago... Unless they were newer models made after the GSR was abandoned. I heard a sound above me, and looked up in time for me to see an old lampshade of sorts landing on my head. Oh, the irony. I pulled it off, and threw it into storage. It was a rather nice-looking lampshade, after all. After that, I winced slightly, suddenly feeling sore all over, like I'd been slammed into a brick wall, but without having experienced the actual event itself. There was a sort of warmth all up and down the front of my body, like I'd been standing in front of a roaring fire for too long. Not to mention the intense discomfort I felt in the base of my spine felt both oddly stretched and like a hornet's nest of pain that made me wince. And, topping it all off, my vision was slightly unfocused. I rubbed the back of my head, which felt like it had found the hardest part of the aforementioned brick wall, and gave a slight groan. "Uh, Caldoric? What's with your armor?" Asked Sans, looking at me sideways. I looked down, and saw that there were new scratches, and a couple of small dents. There were also a few wisps of steam, which dissipated as I watched. "No clue," I admitted. I looked at my watch, making a mental note of the time: it was 4:45 am. I had this sense of deja-vu, combined with a nagging feeling that I was forgetting something... "Hey, uh, Sans?" "Yeah?" "What... just happened?" He raised an eyebrow. "A lampshade fell on your head, and you stuck it... wherever it is you stuck it, and then you ended up like this. I'm digging the new tail, though." I blinked. Yes, there had been a lampshade, but that suddenly felt like it had happened a while ago, rather than mere seconds before... wait, had he just said "tail?" I spun around, catching a glimpse of something I'd only ever seen in a certain pair of DreamWorks movies swinging the same direction I'd just turned. Strangely enough, I could even feel it dragging across the ground, and when I tried to stamp on one of the fins on the end of the appendage, I definitely felt it. "Caldoric?" Asked Kapura, getting my attention. "The Chief says that, if you're done playing, we're all to come with him now." I raised an eyebrow, again, and turned to the "Chief," as he called himself. "Really? Um... Ok, just out of curiosity, why specifically do you require us to come with you?" {Well,} he replied, by way of Kapura, {after much deliberation with the council, we have decided that we would hear more of the outside world from which you have come.} "Wait, deliberation with..." I began, before my brain caught up with, and took control of, my mouth, doing some thinking along the way. "Oh, yeah. I forgot, you guys have radio communication, or something." I shook my head. "Nevermind." {Let us hurry,} said the Chief, {it is unwise to linger so long in the open these days. Come, we must away, to the hive.} And with that, he turned and lead us all off down the seemingly abandoned streets. As we walked, he explained himself a bit more. {Recently, we have had ominous reports from the other hives; rumors, at best.} "And... at worst?" I prompted. I was on edge, because something felt definitively wrong here in the city, and it seemed I wasn't the only one. After a moment, the Chief continued. {And at worst... living horror stories. Nightmarish tales, of hives and sub-hives alike being overrun, destroyed, or... corrupted, one might say.} And with that, he fell silent once more, refusing to continue. I decided to change the subject. "Um, we had some vehicles that--" I began, but I was interrupted by the Chief. {We know,} he said, {we have units bringing them to the hive for inspection as we speak.} And indeed, at that moment the four ships flew overhead, along the general route we were taking. In response, the Chief had us quicken our pace. As we continued along the deserted streets, my mind wandered, and my legs went into a sort of autopilot mode, which was not unusual for me, though I had to adapt to the additional presence of my new tail. This time, my thoughts turned to Ackar, and how he was faring. Man, if he only knew what I'd been up to, he'd flip his lid. From there, my mind turned to the battle in the city earlier today, and that momentary blackout I'd had. What the heck had happened? I thought back to the last moments I remembered, before said lapse occurred. I remembered the group of civilians rushing in, hiding in a corner. Then the sound of something large and heavy approaching, followed by Durath's headlong charge out of the cargo bay... I focused hard on that final piece, trying to glean as much as I could from those few seconds. I saw, for the briefest instant, as Durath turned his face upwards at something outside my limited vision, his expression contorting into a grimace of fear and shock, as... In my mind's eye, I saw a large, dark figure, wreathed in shadows and smoke, land heavily on Durath's chest, bowling him over like a set of tenpins. This was definitely new to me. I watched as the figure turned it's flaming purple eyes towards our ragtag group of heroes, and then it smiled. This rictus of insane glee stretched far to wide across the stranger's face, reminding me of certain moments from "Full Metal Alchemist," and "FMA: Brotherhood," when either "The Truth" or "The Dwarf In The Flask" had first treated the viewers to their creepy smiles. The shadow-thing said something in a language I didn't know, it's voice so soft, yet louder than anything else around; the sound of silence itself. I tore myself away from the vision, and began analyzing what I'd seen, my new tail swishing slightly of it's own volition. There had been something off about the figure, like the shadows were merely obscuring something, but not truly existing except in my head. Something about that thought was familiar to me, and it took me a minute to find. The answer once more lay in the FMA storyline, but this time in the from one of the movies: "The Star of Milos." There are moments in it where one character is trying to remember the face of the person who killed their family, but all they see is a demon the first time. After that, the image becomes progressively clearer each time, until the audience sees the true face of the killer. I could only hope the same would happen to me. By the time I'd come to this conclusion, we'd reached the hive. Once through the entrance, we found ourselves in a sort of loading bay/kill box hybrid. There were at least eight or nine Exo-Toa in individual charging berths, their eyes green instead of orange, and several dozen Vahki of all types. All of them turned their heads to face us. The eyes on a few of the Exo's flickered orange momentarily, all but two returning to green as they lost interest. The two that stayed orange raised their left arms and aimed the attached electro-rocket launchers at us. However, they returned to their "at-ease" mode after a few stern words from the Chief, and the two Exo/Vahki pairs of our group stomped off to their assigned berths to disengage or whatever they called it. As the green Vahki stepped out of its suit, I noted with some interest that it had a decidedly more effeminate look their build. Over in the corner, a sudden gleam of light and no small amount of movement caught my eye. Turns out that what I'd thought to be just a pile of scrap and spare parts was actually another Exo, but in a sorry state of disrepair. I watched as its eyes flickered on, the lights inside barely illuminating the transparent lenses as several Vahki scurried over to it. Curious, I wandered over there myself, as the rest of the group was deep in discussion about other things. Once I got near the pile, the Exo took notice of me. What little light there was in its eyes went from green to blue, and it became excited. It tried to raise its right arm, probably to gesture in my direction, but quickly noticed that everything just below the shoulder was a complete shambles, all bent metal and dangling wires. Its eyespots went yellow at this, and it began speaking with the Vahki around it, its voice deeper by about an octave and a half, looking itself over as it did so. It's left arm was missing its electro-rocket launcher, several bits of armor were damaged or gone entirely, and it's legs were completely shot. There was also a major dent in its chestplate. I thought, I was about to turn back to my companions, when my HUD seemed to momentarily go crazy, almost as if in response to my unspoken desire to help. A series of symbols or pictograms flashed across the display, almost (but not quite,) reminiscent of the Shaper Glyphs from Ingress. My right eye suddenly pricked, hard, and I spent a short moment holding the palm of my hand to the eyehole in my mask, which strangely seemed to help. By the time I could open my eyes again, the Glyphs had gone, and my HUD's color had gone light blue, instead of its standard green. Not only that, but I was now seeing double, kind of. Like, when I looked at one of the nearby Vahki, or an Exo, or Voriki, I saw multiple overlays of the same thing in the same place. One version was the same as what I'd seen before, which was similar to what the movie renditions looked like. Another view offered me moving versions of their original LEGO sets, perfectly mimicking their every action. Yet a third view showed me "revamped" versions of the set forms, which were cool, but the first two were most prevalent. I wasn't sure what this was, but I might be able to use it. Looking at the "spare parts" around the mangled suit, tail twitching in excitement, I decided how best I could help fix it. I would rebuild it! Of course, I'd completely forgotten about my Mask of Object Repair, but I'm grateful for that blunder nowadays. Anywho, making use of my Mask of Telekinesis, I pulled over a few replacement parts and got to work. As I did so, to the general interest of the nearby Vahki, I noticed that I, too, seemed to be operating on multiple "planar spectrums." On one level, I was quickly and carefully soldering together wires, fixing gears, and all the technical stuff of the "real" version, while on another level I was just snapping giant pieces together like I was building the set again from scratch. I soon found that if I tried to focus too much on what my "real" hands were doing, I faltered badly, and nearly got myself and a couple others hurt. So I focused on the "lego-style" method, and soon had him in almost up to par again, minus the rocket launcher and the head/neck joint. Obviously, there was nothing to be done with the launcher, since they didn't seem to have a spare lying around, but I could fix the head. Coming around the back, I had the Exo lean forward so I could get at the mechanism. As I did so, I began thinking of how to deal with the left arm. Standing on its shoulders, I pondered the best way to go about it. True to the original set, my "LEGO vision" showed me two long white axle pieces which were holding the neck assembly in place. I tugged on the right one with all my might, and it slowly gave way. If I remembered correctly, it was one of the old 5.5 length axles. So, leaving nearly a full unit of length unpulled, I shoved it to the side, which caused the single piece it was stuck in to hinge over. I repeated the process on the other shoulder, and the main body of the Exo went limp, while the head began freaking out. I carefully pulled the neck assembly off, and dragged it a little way from the main body. I needed room to maneuver. I made quick work of the problem, replacing parts like it was nothing, and then reseated the whole unit in its slot. Once the axles had been pushed back in, the Exo went into a system-check cycle, powering down before booting up once more, and then getting to its feet. It began moving about, carefully, testing everything out. With the exception of its left arm, it seemed satisfied. It turned to me, placed its boxing claw on my shoulder, and warbled out a sort of "thank-you." In response, I performed one of those fancy bows, placing my left hand to my chest and throwing my right to the side as I took a knee, and lowered my head. Getting up, I looked at the Exo's left arm, and sighed. Taking a moment, I pulled a few more pieces from the pile of bits, and did my best to give it a new hand to replace the electro-rocket. It turned out rather nice, if I do say so myself. It had complete 360° rotation at the wrist, a total of three fingers, (I'd have to fix that later,) and I'd even managed to incorporate an old Bohrok shield into the back of it, though that was partly out of structural and aesthetic necessity. The design had been influenced by a design I'd seen online for an Exo-toa revamp, but the final build was my own design. The Exo flexed the fingers of its new hand, and its eyespots turned into upward-curving half-circles, which I took as it's equivalent of a smile. Using its new hand, it pressed a conspicuous orange spot on the newly-repaired chestplate, which swung forward to reveal the rider's cockpit, then gestured for me to climb in. And that's when our little visit started going to shit.