Updated: Nov 6, 2020
Entry 1: A Disturbing Hypothesis
I’ve always detested war. It wastes valuable resources and lives to prove a point that could be better proven through simple logic. More importantly, it interferes with my research. Metru Nui is currently recovering from its first war, I pray that it be its last. The idiotic Matoran of this city fell prey to anger and fear, losing the very virtues they speak so fondly of. The Ta-Matoran and Po-Matoran jumped to conclusions and destroyed our beautiful city, and our Turaga was of little help. In the midst of the chaos, science and research was all but forgotten, but I and several others wished to continue our duty in the midst of our civil war.
I gathered my most trusted associates, scholars and scientists alike, and left the knowledge district of the city before the war reached it. We took refuge in the basement of an abandoned Archives Warehouse in Onu-Metru since they had both ample hiding places and technology necessary to continue our study. The other scholars could continue their work in silence underground, and I, an astronomer, would venture up every night to study the stars.
We continued in this fashion for hundreds of years, but recently I discovered very disturbing news. We, astronomers, interpret the stars to get prophecies from Mata Nui himself. As the war raged on, prophecies grew fewer and fewer and stars began to disappear. While lapses in prophecies are to be expected, I have never seen stars disappear in so great a number so quickly. I voiced my concerns to my fellow Matoran, and they shared in my nervousness. This continued until several nights ago, when the stars arranged to form one ominous prophecy, simply reading, “My Death.”
I was mortified. The very Mata Nui we had worshipped and dedicated our lives to was dying? Impossible. But yet I couldn’t deny the evidence before me. Either someone was interfering with the stars that made my livelihood or the Great Spirit was truly dying. Neither seemed to be a favorable option.
Despite being the readers of the stars, we astronomers actually have very little control of what information we distribute. Prophecies are typically sent to the Turaga to interpret and share at their discretion, for better or worse. I decided not to share this prophecy. Funny, I finally understand what the Le-Matoran meant when they said ignorance is bliss. As I awaited our possible demise, a flash of white light and an unmistakably warm aura swept through the city.
That night the stars were restored and sang of recovery. I rejoiced on the inside, but I still had questions. Stars disappearing, messages of death, and above all, that flash of life, it didn’t make sense, but I had a theory. The Great Spirit has been affected in some way. Either his prophecies had been corrupted or Mata Nui had fallen in grave danger. I figured that light was related in some way, it must be the final piece of the puzzle. I asked one of my scholars to calculate the source of the flash. He couldn’t give me a proper location, but he directed me south.
I am not an adventurous type, but prophecies of death have a way of changing a person. A scholar like me, beginning a voyage to nowhere in particular? But this is the logical decision. I need to correct this problem. Either my duty to the Great Spirit is being threatened or worse, the Great Spirit himself is endangered. Once rebuilding was well underway, I hired a Ga-Matoran to take me south. I don’t know what happened, but want to make sure it never happens again. In the name of discovery, science and life itself, I, Elmarii, will discover the heart of this pestilence and do everything in my power to cut it off at its source.
Entry 2: A Ruki Out of Water
It has been weeks since my last entry, I have been rather busy. After leaving Metru Nui, I thought I may have hired the wrong Ga-Matoran. Marka, the sailor I hired, seems to be overly chatty and not at all respectful of my boundaries. After the first twenty hours of pestering me with questions of “why” and “what” she finally left me to my own vices. I’ve never left Metru Nui before, so I was content to take in my surroundings. To any other Matoran perhaps, the ocean may just look like a puddle, but I could see so much more. Each current and eddy told a story and the fish below reflected the daylight with various colors, each uniquely beautiful.
At night I watched the stars as usual. At Marka’s request, I tried to decipher them but found no meaning in the sky. When I told her, she laughed and told me how wrong I was. Imagine that, a Ga-Matoran sailor, telling me, one of the best astronomers in Ko-Metru, that I was wrong! But much as I hate to admit it, she was right. She showed me how she could use the stars above to navigate. I suppose using the stars as a map is easier when they don’t tell you the future.
We finally arrived at the Southern Continent much faster than I thought we would. “Good winds” as Marka said. I bid her farewell and went inland to the nearest village. I can’t say I expected luxury, but this was far from what I was used to. So much wilderness, teeming with Rahi. So long as they stayed where I couldn’t see them, we got along quite nicely. I’ve spent the last few days trying to gather information about what happened on the Southern Continent on the day of that light, but I did not get anything of substance for the first few days. They are a strange people here, and I am glad I need not stay longer. While I don’t like to judge by appearance alone, many of the villagers here are disfigured and grotesque like a Po-Matoran’s first carving. In addition, their customs are frightening and savage, particularly in the ways of religion.
Thankfully, I found a somewhat reliable source in the form of a “kook” Le-Matoran outside the village. He told me his name was Piruk and that he liked to keep some distance from the rest of the Matoran. He was mostly normal, with the exception of a habit he had; he’d start twiddling his fingers together when he got nervous, which happened quite often. He was an expert at gathering information, which he was reluctant to share with me. I eventually got him to warm up to me with no small amount of coaxing and a promise that I not ask how he got this information.
He told me of a group of Toa who had ventured to the Southern Continent in search of something powerful, unfortunately, he didn’t know what. He had a suspicion however that it had something to do with the “Idol of the Great Spirit” that the locals kept going on about. He also confirmed the flash did come from the Southern Continent and seemed to originate from the ground. Other than this, Piruk did not know anything else about the light. I must stress that I hate only working with one source, but unfortunately, I don’t have any other choice. I don’t particularly trust the matoran here. I asked for more information about the idol, but he knew nothing about it, other than that I would certainly be dead if I attempted to see it myself. He encouraged I go west, the direction he remembered the Toa coming from. For lack of a better option, I’ve since constructed a raft out of some nearby trees, which float surprisingly well, and am preparing to set sail tomorrow. I will be happy to leave this place behind me and (hopefully) never return.
Entry 3: My Search Concludes: Results
I’ve been rather busy for the last few weeks, so I have much to write about. My trusty raft worked quite nicely I’m pleased to say, I sailed west as instructed, and the trip was quite uneventful, just the way I like it. It felt strange, spending this much time away from any company, but it gave me some time alone with my thoughts. I’m sure if I had spoken with myself from before the Civil War, past me wouldn’t believe a word I said. I suppose not all future is told in the stars.
I sailed past several islands, the first of which looked uninhabited, and frankly, not the kind of place I would find any information on the Great Spirit. I got a bad feeling about that island and had no doubt I wouldn’t want to meet whatever was causing it. Note to self, perhaps inform some Toa about my suspicions upon first chance. The next island was far more inviting: the island of Versuva. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined such a place of study. They take great pride in their libraries, which are almost as expansive as Metru Nui’s own archives, but not nearly as dangerous. I could spend millennia on there, reading anything from Ruki diets to advanced biomechanics, but I was in a rush, and only learned what was absolutely necessary.
I spent a week collecting all the information I could on the Great Spirit, only to find most of the books contradictory, if not complete nonsense. Mostly conspiracy theories and philosophy. Nothing factual at all. It seems most Matoran are content not knowing more. There were, however, several recurring items. Metru Nui itself was directly linked to Mata Nui’s well-being, which of course made sense considering recent events, and that if Mata Nui was mortal, then he must have been created. At this point, my head started to hurt. We Ko-Matoran leave philosophy to the Ga-Matoran, simply because it’s a logical nightmare. I didn’t want to think about the implications of what I read, lest I dive too deep into the stone rat nest that was the origin and meaning of life.
So the information I have gathered at this point is thus:
Mata Nui is Mortal.
Mata Nui’s health is likely linked to Metru Nui, whether it be residents or the city itself is unclear.
A flash of light originating from the Southern Continent occurred at the moment the Great Spirit’s health was restored, possibly making it responsible.
Mata Nui has his own creator.
All of this is entirely theoretical and is highly sensitive if true. Because of this, I have elected to not share my findings with anyone unless deemed necessary by some authority. I fully intend to deliver my findings to the Turaga of Metru Nui to deal with at their discretion. I will be delivering this information personally and will be leaving Versuva tomorrow morning to do so.
Entry 4: life is meaningless
We were always taught by the Turaga that we served a purpose, that we were helping the Great Spirit Mata Nui by doing our work. What a nice, convenient lie that was. In fact, Mata Nui himself? A lie. The Turaga? A lie. Everything I know is a lie. EVERYTHING I KNOW IS A LIE. We aren’t important. We’re all just pieces to a larger machine. WE ARE A MACHINE. I’m insignificant, if I leave, and never come back, who will notice? Not the universe. Not them. Oh yeah, them! Who said they could play god? Why give their machine life? WHAT could become of US when our job is COMPLETE? We are scrap. Our world is scrap.
I wish I never left to find out. We live in a fragile world, held together by lies, and it ALMOST FELL APART. When I washed up on this island, HE told me everything. HE was lied to. HE was betrayed. WHY GO THROUGH THE MOTIONS, when all we have to look forward to is PAIN? I need to sleep. I need to sleep. If I never wake up, that’s ok. But the lies cannot continue. They must not. We cannot become like him. Cast out, thrown away.
Like Tren Krom. WE MUST NOT.
Incident Report: Elmarii
Reason for Order Involvement: Threat to Peace
Offender was frantically preaching in the middle of Ga-Metru about heretical beliefs on the Great Spirit, clearly suffering from some kind of mental break. While madness is not itself worth Order involvement, the particular information he was ranting about could start massive problems, including questioning, strikes, or even another war. Thankfully, the offender was detained by one of our local agents before too long, while any viewers were fooled by an illusion created by a Mahiki-wearing servant of the Order.
Upon reading this journal which was found on his person, it is decided that Elmarii was acting on good intentions, and thus will not be taken to the Pit. However, he will be sent to Karzahni (under the premise of having "completely lost touch with reality") and will begin a new life on the Southern Continent.
The precise cause of Elmarii’s insanity is unknown; however, both the Southern Continent and Versuva will be closely monitored in an effort to prevent future incidents of this nature. Elmarii’s journal refers to Tren Krom, but whether or not this is a cause or a symptom of his madness is uncertain. Further information is required.
That is all.