Chapter One

Turaga Whenua hobbled along a dirt pathway, silently moving under the night sky. He had ventured out many miles from the camp, and his fellow elder waited there, on a mission of grave importance.

Beside him were two members of the Ussalry, Damek and Onepu. Each riding atop an Ussal crab of their own, they sat dutifully, keeping a lookout for any dangers that awaited them in the night. This new world they found themselves in was full of mystery, and Onu-Matoran tended to prefer the known over the unknown.

Still, they took some solace in the fact that they were not alone in defending the Turaga. Looking over his shoulder, Onepu watched the three Glatorian following behind him, those who Whenua had selected for this mission. Ackar was a capable warrior, he knew. He had seen him practicing with the Toa, and understood his strength. Kiina was an adventurous soul, one who cared for the Matoran and their world a great deal. And Gresh’s abilities showed promise, even if he wasn’t quite in his prime yet.

These three Glatorian were chosen by Mata Nui himself, he had been told. They were granted elemental powers, and had been made into honorary Toa. Although Onepu wasn’t quite sure what to make of them yet, he couldn’t argue with those facts.

That said, these three were like no Toa he had ever seen. Ackar had all the power of Tahu, but the wisdom and tiredness that he had come to expect of Vakama. If Onepu didn't know better, he would've sworn he was some sort of elderly Toa that had abruptly halted his transformation into a Turaga.

Kiina had much more of the energy that one would expect of a Toa, but perhaps too much. Where Gali might have advised her brothers to take caution on their journey, Kiina jumped at the chance to go on an adventure, and had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

And Gresh, capable a warrior as he was, was an odd one. He had the level headedness that Kongu always mastered, but wasn't the aloof and carefree Toa of Air Onepu had come to expect. Gresh was still new to his role, and was still quite naive, usually eager to pursue a fight.

Onepu tried not to hold any of this against them, but he found himself wondering how he missed out on becoming a Toa. It seemed just about everyone was getting their shot these days.

Besides, Onua's comforting silence always gave Onepu the time to speak. With Kiina and Gresh’s myriad of questions, he could barely get a word in.

“I still don’t understand it,” Gresh muttered, not for the first time since leaving the camp.

Onepu sighed. “I’ve been as thorough as I can. A group of Matoran, led by an Agori, made an expedition to the wreckage of Metru Nui. It has been several days with no sign of them, so Turaga Whenua has requested that you three head this mission to find them.”

“And if this Agori is Berix, Raanu is never going to let him hear the end of it,” Kiina added. “That, and Gresh will owe me three widgets.”

“But I still don’t get it,” Gresh reiterated, “why us? We’ve never even been inside the place before. Shouldn’t someone with, I don’t know, a little more experience go in there?”

“I think I can guess why,” Kiina said. “When we met with Tahu earlier, I got the impression that the Toa are stretched thin right now. Even putting aside finding the Great Beings, now we’ve got a murderer on the loose, a fortress that suddenly appeared on the coast, and far too many people left unaccounted for. Even Takanuva’s off on another mission, and he just got back!”

Ackar cleared his throat. “I think what Kiina’s trying to say is that we’re probably some of the only ones left who can handle something like this.”

Whenua chuckled breathlessly, but the small sound was enough to demand everyone’s attention. “It is true, Toa are in short supply right now. But that is not why I have asked you three to do this.”

“Then why have you?” asked Kiina.

“Distrust runs rampant through our society,” Whenua sighed. “Even the deaf could hear the rumors of the dangers of Toa upon the Agori’s lips; and the blind could see the fear every Matoran holds for their new home. For all Mata Nui has done to bring us together, our unity is still very fragile. Maybe this is why destiny has left me with the three of you.”

Ackar furrowed his brow as he looked away, unsure of what to make of the Turaga’s words. But before he could inquire further, they had reached their destination.

“We’re here,” Onepu announced.

Turning back, the group beheld it. The massive head of the Great Spirit Robot had been visible from the camp, of course, but seeing it up close was something else entirely. It cast a wide shadow over the group, countless miles of metal towering above them. Loose machinery hung out from several tiny fractures, all stemming from the gaping wound in the back of the head. Only days ago, that wound had been the killing blow for Makuta. Now, the robotic corpse lay limp in the desert, a reminder of the battle that had taken place.

Up ahead on the path, a small bit of the natural land jutted into a hole in the mechanical skull, creating a small cliff on the inside of the ruins. This, it seemed, would be the way into the city.

“What are we even going to look for?”

Onepu shrugged. “Any sign of the Matoran. I thought that was obvious.”

“My men and I will stay out here,” Whenua said. “When you have found the lost Matoran, bring them to us. If we haven’t heard from you by morning, we will come after you.”

Gresh scoffed. “Come on. There’s nothing in there that I can’t handle.”

A small pebble struck the side of his cheek, catching him off guard.

“Don’t underestimate that city,” Whenua said sternly, levitating two clumps of soil in his hand. “It holds more danger than you can see on the surface.”

“Yeah,” Gresh grumbled, “so do I.”

The Turaga dropped the dirt to the ground, deciding that the young warrior had learned his lesson. “This place is a graveyard of our old universe. I hope that is all that it is.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Once, Metru Nui was a city of legends. The very mind of the Great Spirit was a sight to behold, marked by the shimmering Coliseum on its skyline. It was a place where Matoran could carry on their work in peace, all in the name of Mata Nui. It was a paradise.

Upon Ackar’s first impression of the famed city, he didn’t find it nearly as glamorous. Entering through a massive hole that had been caved in through the back of the titanic robot’s head, he glanced around at the ruined city that lay before him. What was once a labyrinth of buildings and chutes now hung down from the ceiling, looming over the flooded dome. The centerpiece of the city, the Coliseum, was one of the only buildings left standing, almost piercing the sea of liquid protodermis. Through the wreckage, damaged warships and fallen buildings floated through the sea, some even drifting out of the city’s boundaries and into the world outside.

He stood atop a ledge, where the natural ground of the desert abruptly ended, dropping off into the silver sea. It was a precarious area, an artificial ‘coast’ surrounding the water, lined with fallen buildings and wreckage, but it had made for a functional entrance into the city.

Behind him, he could hear a barely contained squeal slowly get louder and louder. Turning back, he faced his fellow Glatorian, Kiina, and smiled.

“Excited?” he asked, playfully.

Kiina grinned, and nodded fervently. “Look at all of it!” she said, moving as though she were about to burst. “This is so far beyond anything we could’ve dreamed of. Imagine what it looked like before the crash!”

To Ackar’s right, he heard a chuckle. “Imagine the kind of battles that were fought here,” Gresh wondered aloud as he gazed up at the ceiling. “This place is huge.”

The Glatorians’ mission was simple, to a degree. While the evacuation had occurred rather quickly after the Makuta’s defeat, it had been complicated when the robot’s artificial gravity suddenly shut off, sending the already ruined city into chaos. The force had kept the city upright, regardless of the robot’s position, for thousands of years, and its sudden deactivation wreaked havoc. Due to this, a few Matoran were left unaccounted for after the exodus, leading to concern that they may somehow remain in the fallen city.

Looking at what lay before them, they found that hard to believe. Below them, just as the natural land dropped off into the robot’s head, there was a sea of liquid protodermis, flooding the dome. What was once the sky was now the sea.

“Where are we even supposed to start looking?” Gresh sighed.

Ackar frowned, placing his hand on one of the many towers of rubble that lined the artificial coast. The shallow edge of the silver sea was littered with fallen buildings, crashed vehicles, and random junk.

“There’s always something that gets overlooked,” Kiina mused. “For one, there’s water. May as well start there.” Turning her head, she smirked at the scarabax beetle that rested on her shoulder. As though on command, the beetle nodded, and leapt over to Ackar’s shoulder.

Ackar chuckled. “Glad to see you two are getting along, Click.”

The beetle chirped happily, receiving a warm smile from Kiina. “I’ll be right back,” she said, just before diving into the silver sea.

Ackar folded his arms, gazing down at the glimmering pool. Even now, as he entered the city that the Matoran once called home, he could not understand why Whenua had chosen him for this mission.

This isn’t our world, Ackar thought to himself, it’s theirs. We have no place here.

✴        ✴        ✴

Back outside the mechanical hull, Whenua took a seat atop a rock, resting his head against the metallic wreckage. With a long sigh, he watched the horizon as the sun slowly set.

Beside him, Onepu tied the leash of his Ussal crab securely to a large stone, securing his mount. Reaching into a pack, he procured a bula berry, and gently held it out in front of the crab’s mouth.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, gently feeding the berry to his crab. “They’re not exactly familiar with our old world.”

“Mata Nui chose these three as his trusted companions,” Whenua said. “I have no doubts in their ability.”

Onepu nodded slowly, turning back to his Ussal. The crab chirped gleefully, lapping up the last of its food.

Whenua rose up to his feet. “I will remain here,” he said. “You two should return to the camp, before it gets too late.”

The two Matoran looked to each other for a moment, before looking back to the Turaga. “With all due respect, Turaga,” Onepu started, “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”

“The Glatorian are right inside,” Whenua reassured him. “And with any luck, they will have found our missing Matoran soon enough.”

“But what if they don’t trust them?” Damek asked. “There’s much confusion going around.”

Whenua smiled. “These are confusing times. A rescue like this… it is a simple adventure. It reminds us that there is something to put our faith in. And it may help us to become our truest selves.”

Onepu paused, then lit up. “You’re saying that this will help the Matoran learn to trust the Glatorian?”

“No,” Whenua replied. “I’m saying it will help the Glatorian trust themselves.”