- Beginnings
- Our
sanctuary grows by the day. We
Chozo know much of technology, but we have chosen to leave it behind on
this journey. Our home here on
Tallon IV will be a place of simplicity:
structures hewn from the stone, bridges woven with branches, hallways
caressed by pure waters. We build
around the ancient and noble tress, drawing from their strength and
giving them our own in return. All
that is wild will flow around us here:
our race will be just one more group of creatures in the knit of
nature. It is our hope that such a
state will bring with it great wisdom, a greater understanding of the
nature of the universe. Once our
city here is complete, we will peer inward and discover the truth.
- Statuary
- As
we have done for millennia, we Chozo work constantly on our
statuary. The statues are our
sentinels: blind but ever
watchful, they are, and always have been, repositories for our most
precious secrets and strongest powers.
The crafting of each is a long and sacred process, performed only
by those who have lifetimes of experience in such things. We have left these relics on planets
across the solar system. Some are
merely reminders: silent emblems
of the Chozo that serve as icons of peace in lands that only know
war. Others wield subtle strength,
exerting their influence in ways beyond the understanding of mortal
creatures. Still others are
guardians of our secret ways, and these can be as terrible as they are
beautiful. Those who respect and
honor these relics will know the friendship of the Chozo. Those who deface or destroy them will
know our wrath, unfettered and raw.
- Fountain
- At
the highest point of our city lies the fountain, a wellspring of pure
water that flows throughout our civilization. It is the jewel of the Chozo, the
life-giver, and yet its waters speak of a clouded future. As we come to understand the paths of
time and space more clearly. We
have begun to glimpse rough tatters of past and future, glittering behind
reality like soft lights behind a curtain. We have seen the fountain in these
glimpses, pouring darkness instead of water, and we cannot guess what the
visions mean.
- Exodus
- We
Chozo are departing now, after so many years in peaceful seclusion here
on Tallon IV. When we came, this
place was a refuge for our spirits, a civilization built from native
materials, bereft of the trappings of our technology. We were linked to the land here,
kindred to the plants and animals, far away from the machines we had
become so dependent on. And so we
leave it now, pristine, a testament to the mortal forms we no longer
need. We have drawn the veils of
time and space aside, and are withdrawing beyond the illusion. But we will never forget this, the most
sacred of our home. And we will
remain ever watchful.
- Meteor
Strike
- We
have returned to Tallon IV, borne here against our will by a great
cataclysm from the reaches of space.
A meteor came, casting a dark shadow of debris over the land with
the violence of its impact. Though
we perceived this from beyond space and time, it was but a
curiosity: a brief flare in the
infinite march of the universe.
But the meteor brought with it corruption. A Great Poison burst forth into the
land, clawing at the life with such violence that we were ripped from our
peaceful state and find ourselves wandering the shadows of the mortal
forms we left behind, searching for why we are here.
- Worm
- The
prophecies tell of the coming of the Worm. Born from parasites, nurtured in a
poisoned womb, the Worm grows, devouring from within, until the world
begins to rot. The words of the
seers have come to pass, for there, in the depths of the world; the
ravenous Worm lurks and feeds.
From the stars it came, blighting Tallon with its Great
Poison. We can but watch as the
Worm grows, watch and wait. For
the prophecies also speak of a Great Defender, the one who delivers the
world from evil. The final days
draw near. Is the Newborn the
Defender of which the seers spoke?
We shall do all that we can to aid her, for she bears our legacy
as she bears the ancient armor and weapons of our people.
- Contain
- The
world of living things feels strange to us, we who have existed so long
on the edges of time and space. It
is clear now that we Chozo can never return to our dimension, not while
the Great Poison reaches ever further into the planet. It is so powerful, this creeping evil,
that our wills are crumbling and our minds beginning to fail. And so, before it is too late, we now
make our last stand. We have begun
to build a temple to contain this darkness: at its heart we will place a Cipher, a
mystical lock powered by twelve artifacts and filled with as much power
as we Chozo can harness in our ethereal states. Even when we are done, it may be too
late.
- Cradle
- The
cries of the dying land pulled us from our dreaming state, and now we
Chozo walk as ghosts while the Great Poison sinks into the trees and
waters, devouring all life. Some
creatures survive, but their forms grow as twisted and evil as the force
that fell from the sky. The heart
of the planet will succumb soon, and so will we, even in our ghostly
states. Already many Chozo have
faded and passed into the unknown.
The Great Poison is unlike anything we have glimpsed in this or
any dimension. It eats
relentlessly, worming our life wherever it blooms and corrupting what it
cannot kill. It will be our
undoing. Our last hope lies in the
Cradle, the temple we hope might contain this abomination. It is almost complete, hovering over
the impact site, the dark heart of the spreading evil. If we can finish before the last of our
kind drifts into madness or death, there is a chance for this world. If we fail, we are doomed with it.
- Cipher
- None
know if our temple, the Cradle, will prove powerful enough to contain
this evil forever. How can we
Chozo hope for it to remain intact when that which it guards writhes in
the darkness, growing always stronger?
The fate of this world rests with the gathering of the Artifacts
we call the Cipher, but eve it is not all-powerful. It is strong, yes: an enchanted whole
made of twelve links. Still it is
finite in its reach and we who guard it are slowly succumbing. When our vigilance crumbles away into
madness, the Cipher will be exposed and the fate of Tallon IV will be
beyond our influence.
- The
Turned
- Many
Chozo have gone beyond now, and this is a mercy. Those of us who remain suffer in
dimensional flux, drifting helplessly across time and space, guided by
unseen and inexorable currents.
The Chozo who cling to sanity fight the tide, but our minds are
weakening. Soon we will all be
like the Turned, the Chozo who have been utterly corrupter by the Great
Poison. The Turned still hold on
to their Chozo forms, but their minds are black with fell
intentions. Gone is their respect
for life. They honor only
destruction, and seek to disrupt the Artifacts holding the Great Poison
at bay. All life taunts them, and
they do not rest. Before long,
they will be all that remain of the Chozo here.
- Newborn
- The
power of our temple has been enough to halt the spread of the poison on
Tallon IV, but that which remains thrives and grows more concentrated,
gnawing on itself in the dark passages beneath the planet’s surface. Whether it can ever be truly destroyed
is not for our eyes to see. But
there is something else, we Chozo are drifting, tumbling through space
and time as the Great Poison eats away at our sanity. We wake in dreams. As the veil of lunacy descends, as past
and future blend and shuffle, one image appears and flickers through the
landscape, wraithlike. It is the
Hatchling, the Newborn, walking the path of corruption, a lone figure
shining in the toxic shadows. She
comes dressed for war, and her wrath is terrible. Do our eyes look backward, seeing the
Hatchling as she once was? Or does
she approach, even now, arriving in our race’s last hour, a savior
clothed in machines crafted long ago by Chozo hands? Poisonous clouds drift across our
visions.
- Hatchling
- As
we struggle with the Great Poison, something stirs at the edges of our
vision. It is the Hatchling
Samus. We feel her, across the
void, as she hunts the corrupted.
Will our fates again be one?
As our pride shatters, will prophecy become real? When all strength wanes from the Chozo
will it be the Hatchling who fulfills our legacy? True sight eludes us, for the Poison gnaws
at all vision, leaving seers blind and filled with despair. Truth’s blessing may come too late.
- Hatchling’s
Shell
- The
Hatchling walks among us. Are
these dreams? Memories? Foretellings? Time and reality swirl together like
estuary waters, and we Chozo know not what to believe. She appears as ghostlike as the Chozo,
but at times the mists clear. We
see her wounded eyes, and remember the child we found so long ago. What has she become, this Newborn? Clad in Chozo armor, wielding weapons
our hands once held, does she dream of the Chozo as we once were? Does she long for her parents, lost to
the same creatures that even now defile our sacred home? Does she still live?
- Hope
- More
and more, our tormented minds turn to the Newborn. As the world continues to shift into
brutal, disconnected images, she remains inarguably real: a fearless figure, delving deeper into
the blighted world, unmindful of the terrors that await her. Was she this way before? When we Chozo found her, a fledging
orphaned on a savaged planet, did a warriors pulse already beat in her
veins, filling her with righteous fury?
Our hopes lie with her. We
leave these messages for her, that she may find our Artifacts and deliver
the world from its evils. Wraiths
we may be, but our reach is still long indeed. We shall fight the invaders, and the
Poison they would master, until the end.
- Infestation
- A
second plague has come upon the land, dousing the last flickering hopes
of our race. Drawn by the very
force we Chozo hoped to contain, a host of marauding creatures descended
from space and invaded our temple, the Cradle. They try in vain to destroy it, but its
power remains beyond them for now.
They possess some of the twelve Artifacts we call the Cipher, yet
do not comprehend their function.
Ignorant creatures, they are blinded by delusions of harnessing
the Great Poison for their own designs.
They walk about as masters of the planet, assimilating the ruins
of our sanctuary into their experiments.
We can but watch and wait for our doom.
- Binding
- The
congregation of Artifacts that hold the Great Poison at bay still hold
strong. Fearful of the potential
within the Artifact Temple,
the invaders known as Space Pirates tried to destroy it, only to fail in
every attempt. We scattered the Artifacts
across the planet for their own protection, and only a few have fallen
into invader hands. Failing to
understand them, they now seek to unmake them. Again, they fail. They are right to fear these
things. Great power sleeps inside
them. Prophecy calls for their
union, come the day that the unholy worm is met by the great
Defender. We can only hope the
Artifacts are not destroyed by the invader, for then all will be
lost. So, we do what we can to
preserve the Artifacts, and to guide the Newborn to them. Time wanes with our souls, yet hope
remains.