Chapter 1

I am… troubled, Turaga Dume.

It is as Vakama said. I practiced and became skilled. If Makuta had listened to Vakama, he also could have known how to be where he is not.

This could be quite helpful for catching Rahi, you know.

Kongugone! Fastrace hardknow that the riderline tumblenose downfast--

The stars… I’ve traced the contours of the Wall of Stars, and they say… they can only be read one way…

Mata Nui is dying.

Another Hafu original!

Voices. Channels. Thoughts. Streams. Beacons. Signals. Metru Nui, a dead city, was alive once more. All across the island city, Metru Nui was alive with new frequencies. Frequencies that could be tapped and accessed. After a millennium of near silence, it was a deluge.

Not that Dweller had been altogether blind to events on the island of Mata Nui. The further his mind pressed, the more of a toll it exacted, such that he could rarely afford it. There, nestled deep within the catacomb-like tunnels of the city, he had settled into a rhythmic routine over the past millennia. Tend to his garden. Eat. Sleep. Send a report to the Shadowed One by Rahi. And telepathically watch events above. The Dark Hunter had had to content himself with the dull entertainment of Dume and, when they were in town, Keetongu and the Rahaga. Dweller suspected he understood the Turaga’s mind better than he himself could.

But now? Now that the Matoran had returned? The thousand years he had spent waiting had finally paid off. His task, sent as he was to spy on the city after the Shadowed One’s defeat, had paid dividends. Dweller was the first to sense the battles unfolding in the Bahrag lair and Mangaia, hazy as they were. He had noticed the comings and goings of the Piraka from the Great Barrier, and now he knew what few others did: there was only one Toa left in Metru Nui. The Shadowed One had ordered him to strike when the Toa was most vulnerable, and that time was rapidly approaching.

In the meantime, Dweller continued to watch, parsing through information as quickly as he could. Most of the Matoran lives were irrelevant, but the Turaga he could. More interesting to Dweller, however, was the spike in Dark Hunter presence around the city. Minds were like scents. The more familiar one was, the easier it could be spotted. And after so long, after being the only Dark Hunter in Metru Nui’s dome since before the Great Cataclysm, there was all the entertainment, all the channels he could ask for.

Dweller reclined with a smile.