Your eyes scan frantically. You see the bodies of so many of your fellow shardbearers.
Nothing.
You can't do anything.
The swarm quickly overtakes you.
It overtakes all of them.
Not even willing to face the consequences, even now.
Teeth bite, webbing pulls, tighter and tighter until every surface both metal and organic starts to give, starts to prick - barbs, hundreds upon thousands, sinking into every inch of you with the burning rush of venom.
Every pounding of your head riles you up. Panic, that grows, less like yourself, less sentient, less in control, and more like--
The change happens without warning. A ripple effect, in one limb, that rapidly moves down the body you cannot see in the tightened trapping of your cocoon. Metal and muscle suddenly twist. Crack. Bending out of shape to reform to another. Bulging, adding, changing. Armor merges with structure, masks sinking to join with faces, chest expanding as limbs outstretch and your mind twists ferally within your skull.
Your mouth opens to scream. A strangled roar rips from your throat instead.
Your cocoon rips to open air. You free fall, from the highest point of the city.
You hit the ground, somehow not dying from the impact. Your body moves awkwardly. Primal. Unbalanced. Instinct over your mind. The tunnel vision can't be ignored.
But Vakama is there. Still a Matoran, with his hands held in front of you placatingly, as though trying to prevent you from running.
He exhales as his eyes travel Raven, tense. Apologetic. You feel the growl in your throat against your will.]
...This. This is what I...
[What he didn't want to happen. What he didn't want to repeat. But his eyes grow cold, bitter, tracing down for a second to try and compose himself before turning back to... what used to be Raven.]
3/3 cw: body horror
You can't do anything.
Your eyes scan frantically. You see the bodies of so many of your fellow shardbearers.
Nothing.
You can't do anything.
The swarm quickly overtakes you.
It overtakes all of them.
Not even willing to face the consequences, even now.
Teeth bite, webbing pulls, tighter and tighter until every surface both metal and organic starts to give, starts to prick - barbs, hundreds upon thousands, sinking into every inch of you with the burning rush of venom.
Every pounding of your head riles you up. Panic, that grows, less like yourself, less sentient, less in control, and more like--
The change happens without warning. A ripple effect, in one limb, that rapidly moves down the body you cannot see in the tightened trapping of your cocoon. Metal and muscle suddenly twist. Crack. Bending out of shape to reform to another. Bulging, adding, changing. Armor merges with structure, masks sinking to join with faces, chest expanding as limbs outstretch and your mind twists ferally within your skull.
Your mouth opens to scream. A strangled roar rips from your throat instead.
Your cocoon rips to open air. You free fall, from the highest point of the city.
You hit the ground, somehow not dying from the impact. Your body moves awkwardly. Primal. Unbalanced. Instinct over your mind. The tunnel vision can't be ignored.
But Vakama is there. Still a Matoran, with his hands held in front of you placatingly, as though trying to prevent you from running.
He exhales as his eyes travel Raven, tense. Apologetic. You feel the growl in your throat against your will.]
...This. This is what I...
[What he didn't want to happen. What he didn't want to repeat. But his eyes grow cold, bitter, tracing down for a second to try and compose himself before turning back to... what used to be Raven.]
Can you still hear me?
[Are you still you?]