I do not own Bionicles.

Been a while since I did one of these. Here is to hoping that I still have it.

XxXxXxX

Gali came to speak with him.

He was civil, as expected, but as distant as he could manage.

A vague stirring of regret fills him, as he watches her leave, shoulders slumped in unhappiness.

Kopaka dares not get to close to his sweet sister. She is lively, bright, gentle as spring rain. Loving. Every part the living embodiment of water. Everything that he is not.

He fears that he will destroy her, should he get too close. Chill her heart, turn her from the life-bearing guardian that she is into a frozen queen. It's all too easy to imagine, the creeping cold turning her heart to ice, till she becomes a perfect, pale reflection of himself.

Would it be so bad?

No, it wouldn't.

He could protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her from rushing head long into near-lethal situations as she is so wont to do.

He snarls viciously at himself for even entertaining such a thought.

How dare he even entertain the thought of protecting her. Tahu is stronger than him, and even the Toa of Fire bows his head to Gali's power. Of all the Toa, Kopaka is the weakest, and he knows it. Winning for him depends strongly on being on his native turf, without the chilling cold of the mountains his power is near useless. Even then he can be defeated, as Tahu so pointed demonstrated to him.

The crackling snap of ice wakes the Toa from his musing. His fist has splintered the hard ice of his room walls, dark ichor dribbling from split armor.

Why isn't it ice?

It's an irrational thought, bubbling to the front of his mind. He's been said to have a heart of ice, so why isn't his blood ice as well? Instead, it is the same black-red substance that all his siblings have, warm to the touch. Warm and rapidly freezing in the sub-zero temperatures of his room.

Kopaka stares at the fluid, morbidly fascinated by the way it drips down his fingers, as thick drop barely dangling from a single white fingertip. His red eye tracks the droplet as it falls and splatters against the icy floor, freezing into a sunburst.

Disgusting.

The sudden revulsion is shocking in its intensity, snapping him out of his entranced daze. His foot lashes out, scraping the splatter from existence, leaving nothing but scuffed ice and snow on the floor. In the corner of his eye he notices another blooming iris of red-black, freezing against the white purity of his room. It occurs to Toa that he should bandage his hand, so as to not keep dirtying his residence with any signs of physical weakness.

A glance at his hand, the cracked armor and all, causes a wave of stomach-churning loathing to flood his veins.

A sharp crack sounds for a brief moment, before dying away.

It's only a while later that Kopaka realizes that his fingers are bent at an odd angle, the slow dripping of ichor now a steady stream. The previous dent in his wall is now a small crater, bits of white armor embedded in the center. A thin waterfall of red, still freezing in place, flows down from the connecting point of his fist and the wall.

With an almost curious expression the Toa of Ice pulls his hand away from the wall, ignoring the sick cracking sounds of breaking ice crystals, and wonders why it doesn't hurt.