Mata Nui Comics
2001 - BIONICLE Comic 1: The Coming of the Toa
Adapted by Michael Larson. Edited by Jeff Douglas.
A silver, cylindrical canister drifted atop the tide, carried aloft by high wind and chill waves.
The cylinder brushed sand, before being pulled back out to sea. Another wave pulled it further inland before receding altogether. The tide receded, and the canister was dragged along, carving a slight trench before it ground to a halt in the cold, wet sand. There it lay still.
Aside from the lapping of waves against the shore and the soft spray of sand carried by the salty wind, the beach was silent.
Black, beady eyes popped out from behind the nearby rocks. The eyes studied the new arrival for a moment before disappearing again. There were a few more moments of silence before the eyes reappeared, this time accompanied by a round body, two claws, and six scuttling legs. One Ussal crab appeared atop the rocks, followed by another, and then another. Like most days, they had been out in search of an evening meal. But this day was destined to be different.
Intrigued, the Ussal scuttled closer. Generally, it was not wise to seek out strange objects, especially with Makuta’s corruptive influence spread far and wide across the island. Still, there was something about it which compelled them to draw near. Some scuttled atop the canister.
Without warning, the canister hissed and depressurized. The crabs jumped back in surprise as the lid was thrown off, and the mechanical pieces of a body were blown out. Among them, a dull grey mask was thrown into the sand.
Again, there was peace for a moment. The Ussal had fled, and there was no movement. No movement… until a pair of eyes flickered open. Fortunately, the head was still attached to the torso, which now rolled over, jamming the arm into the shoulder socket. The arm, now animated, reached over and diligently began connecting other pieces. After a few moments, the pieces began to take on a recognizable shape. Two arms, two legs, and a torso formed from the scattered elements.
I have slept for so long, the new arrival thought. Specters and shadowy visions danced before his mind’s eye. My dreams have been dark ones.
He was now almost reassembled. Awkwardly, he crawled onto his knees, then rose to his feet. His armor was white and silver, his body lean and strong. He brought his hands to his face, gently, as if not certain it was real. Then he looked down at his new body.
The newcomer took a step, and his knees buckled. Catching himself, he took a deep breath before trying again. As he lifted and extended his leg, he heard a clicking sound. Some Ussals were peering at him from the safety of the jungle.
With a deep breath, he tasted the salty air of the strange, alien world.
He titled his head as he gazed at the gleaming white sand and gold-hued seas.
Now I am awakened, he thought. Taking careful steps forward, he lifted the round mask from the sand and placed it on his face. Now the scattered elements of my being are rejoined. Now I am whole.
The Toa seized the only pieces left, a glimmering white sword and shield. No sooner was he completed than raw elemental power rippled through his body.
And the darkness cannot stand before me.
✴ ✴ ✴
Kopaka stalked along the steep mountain path, wary of what might be hiding behind every bend he passed While he did not remember much — not where he came from, where he was, nor where he was going — he knew that this much ice and snow would commonly be perceived as freezing — yet he did not feel any discomfort here.
Curious, Kopaka stopped walking for just a moment and brought his blade close to his opposite arm. The metal was followed by frigid air and a small trail of mist. Kopaka smiled, understanding. The evil on this island is about to learn that justice can be very… cold, he thought, resuming his pace.
As he walked, he was struck by another realization: his vision was not homogeneous in both eyes. Not only did his mask let him visually peel away the layers of snow and ice around him, but attached to the right side of his mask was some kind of optic scope that further augmented his vision. He focused his concentration through it.
My mask lets me see pathways not seen before, Kopaka realized, mentally adjusting the lens of his mask. Even through the rock.
Glancing off to his side, Kopaka saw a flash of movement behind an outcropping of rock. And I see I have a visitor…
“Come out, little one,” he said coldly, “before you catch a chill!”
Kopaka swung his sword at the rock formation, shattering it to pieces. The smaller figure exclaimed in fright and turned to flee.
The taller figure’s eyes narrowed. My new friend tries to flee, but a blast of ice will bring him sliding back to me, he decided. Solid ice erupted from his sword, sending Matoro tumbling back towards Kopaka, before freezing him from the torso down.
Interesting, the warrior thought, admiring his newfound ability. The power is in me — the sword is but the focus.
Kopaka advanced. “We have things to discuss,” he started. “Who are you? And why were you watching me?”
“I… I am Matoro, a Matoran,” came the stuttering answer. “I saw you come ashore. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Kopaka leaned in, intrigued.
Matoro continued. “All of us here on Mata Nui have been waiting for you — you and the others. Now if only you can find the Masks of Power—”
“What ‘others’? What masks?”
As Matoro began to ramble on, Kopaka reflected on his words. His tale is broken, incomplete, the Toa thought, but it is the tale told in my dreams, or close to it. I have been summoned — I and others — to challenge a mighty evil. To defeat it, I will need great power. These Kanohi Masks will give me that power.
“Tell me where to find these masks,” Kopaka ordered.
“They are lost. Scattered. Hidden all over Mata Nui. Some are guarded by nightmare creatures… others hidden where no Matoran could reach.” His eyes brightened as he suddenly remembered, “Turaga Nuju, the village elder, spoke of a Mask of Shielding, hidden in the Place of Far-Seeing.”
Kopaka turned, willing the ice trapping Matoro to melt into a slush. “‘Place of Far-Seeing?’” the Toa asked, as Matoro scurried to his side. “Your Turaga speaks in riddles.”
He frowned.
“I hate riddles.”
✴ ✴ ✴
As the two began the long, winding path through the mountain, so intent were they on their destination that they failed to notice a large, wasp-like form flying low over the mountains. Driven on by forces beyond its control, the insect scanned the region for any signs of life.
The wasp had not seen the Toa or Matoran, but as it swooped down, its large eyes fell upon the dark footsteps that tracked through the snowy tundra. The Rahi beast hovered over them and studied the tracks for a few moments. Then it followed them toward the beach for some distance before stopping again.
The insect pivoted, and started in the opposite direction.
The hunt had begun.
✴ ✴ ✴
Matoro and Kopaka’s valley trail had brought them to a deep, gaping valley that spanned some distance through the mountains. “My people are planning an ice bridge to span this chasm — in your honor,” Matoro explained. “Once it is installed, it will make travel much easier.”
Kopaka studied the distance to the other side of the path. “Until then, I will make my own. I—”
A sharp buzzing sound cut him off. Kopaka turned over his shoulder to see a massive insect flying toward them, wearing a hideous gray mask not unlike Kopaka’s own. Its two wings buzzed furiously, and its stinger tail bore down on the startled Toa.
“Kopaka! Watch out!” Matoro shouted, shoving the warrior out of the way.
Kopaka landed hard in the snow, only to see Matoro knocked off the ledge in his place. “No!” the Toa of Ice shouted.
Instinctively, Kopaka dove off the edge after the Matoran, barely catching his hand in time and holding the panicked villager close.
“Don’t struggle!” Kopaka ordered. “You’re safe now!” He drew his sword and aimed beneath them, firing a blast of ice. The blast first slowed their descent, then let the two land on a platform of ice created between the chasm walls, which they slid down the rest of the way to the bottom. As he skated to a halt, Kopaka gently set Matoro back down on the surface.
Matoro gazed at Kopaka in awe. “Now I know you are the Toa — the one who will save us!”
“There were easier ways to find out,” Kopaka frowned. He looked back up at the ledge, wary of another strike, but their attacker had vanished. “What was that creature?”
“We call them Nui-Rama,” Matoro answered, taking the lead again. “Did you see the gray mask attached to it?”
Kopaka nodded.
“That is an infected mask, a corruption of the Kanohi we now wear. When—”
“When they wear infected masks, they are servants of the Makuta… and they are only one of the dangers you will face.”
Kopaka and Matoro turned, startled. The hoarse, uneven voice came from not far up the path, though the figure was hidden by some trees blocking the view. The newcomer was making no effort to hide, however, and soon appeared, rounding a bend and walking toward them. He was taller than Matoro, but also hunched and using a staff as support.
Matoro ran to his side. “Turaga! He’s come!” he exclaimed, gesturing to his traveling companion. “This is—”
“I know who he is, Matoro,” the wisened figure replied. Kopaka noted visible surprise on Matoro’s face, as if the Turaga speaking was unanticipated.
But the Turaga ignored his small companion, instead looking up at the Spirit of Ice. “You are Toa Kopaka, who wields the power of winter itself. You saved one of your people, with no thought to your own safety.” The Turaga pointed at Kopaka. “You are the one we have waited for.”
“And do you have the answers I seek?” Kopaka asked.
“I am Nuju,” the being said, nodding. “This island, Mata Nui — and these mountains — are your home. You can ride the ice and snow… unleash the avalanche… freeze with just a touch…”
Kopaka could tell where this was going. “But that is not enough,” he theorized, “is it?”
Nuju shook his head, scooping up a piece of clay from the mushy soil. “No.” He molded the clay into a smooth ball. “Our world… our people were once as pure and strong as the ice. Then,” he smashed the clay between his hands, “…Makuta came, bringing evil to this land. To defeat Makuta and restore our land, you will need the Great Kanohi Masks of Power. You’ll find your first at—”
“I know,” Kopaka interrupted. “The Place of Far-Seeing.”
✴ ✴ ✴
As Nuju guided Toa Kopaka and Matoro along, they did not see that the hostile eyes had returned, and now overlooked the ravine.
The Nui-Rama tilted its head, then backed away. With a swift flapping of its wings, it rose into the air and began its flight toward the center of the island. The insect’s hazy, clouded mind registered alarm. In what could be considered reasoning, the Rahi knew the newcomers could pose a threat to the island’s environment. Their arrival could very well disrupt the entire ecosystem. This had to be prevented.
The Makuta had to be told.