Chapter 1

Pohatu, Toa Nuva of Stone, narrowly dodged a charged energy beam launched by the Gahlok-Kal. Even with his Kakama Nuva, however, not even he was quick enough to evade the follow-up, which struck him square in the chest and repelled him back several feet. Winded but determined to stay in the fight, he dug his Climbing Claws into the rock and maintained his balance.

“Maybe we should’ve loud-called the others,” quipped Lewa, Toa Nuva of Air, from his perch atop a nearby boulder. “At the very least Gali or Kopaka would be able to quick-think a way out of this.”

“Not now, Lewa,” snapped Tahu, Toa Nuva of Fire, attempting to block the Bohrok-Kal’s next attack with the flats of his weapons, an oversight that sent the Magma Swords flying from his hands.

Several hours ago, word of the Gahlok-Kal roaming the outskirts of Tiro Canyon had reached the guards of Po-Koro, warding off merchant caravans and preventing the village’s Mahi herders from going about their daily business across the Motara Desert. With Po-Matoran trade disrupted, Pohatu had called upon his fellow Toa for reinforcement to find only two of his brothers had been able to answer the call, relaying heartfelt apologies from Gali and Onua.

“We don’t need to win,” grimaced Pohatu, eying the Bohrok-Kal with reproach as it once again returned to its patrol. “We just need to keep it away from Po-Koro.”

“I suppose,” said the Toa of Air in response. “But this would be a lot easier with our Toa-powers.”

Activating his Miru Nuva as Tahu was flung backward into a nearby sand dune, Lewa swooped down from his position to attack the Gahlok-Kal from above. His armored adversary proved too swift, however, deflecting the Toa of Air with little in the way of effort. Burying an Air Katana into loose sand, the Toa Nuva of Air received a sharp strike to his abdomen that sent him stumbling into the shingle.

Mustering his final reserves of strength, Tahu rose to his feet and exchanged a weary look with Pohatu. The battle had been hard-thought for some time now, with the Toa enjoying no real success. Together they had charged the Bohrok-Kal from countless angles only to be repelled away or magnetized to each other or disarmed entirely. The Gahlok-Kal was not a Rahi that could be so easily spooked, nor was it as predictable as a regular Bohrok. The recent loss of their Elemental Powers left the Toa hard-pressed to achieve any substantive results. Worse still, they were no closer to determining the mysterious Bohrok’s objective. Their target seemed entirely unfazed by their fruitless efforts and exhaustion was starting to claim even the mighty Toa Nuva of Fire.

“It is a pity you align yourselves against the Bohrok,” grated the Gahlok-Kal, turning its attention back to examining the beach. “Your persistence is admirable.”

Sensing his moment of opportunity, Pohatu activated his Kakama Nuva again and prepared himself for another attack. Cricking his neck and flexing the muscles in his legs, he felt the silent support of Tahu and Lewa as they lay sprawled in the sand behind him. As quietly as he dared, the Toa of Stone broke into a run, building up momentum ready to deliver a powerful kick that would send the Bohrok-Kal hurtling into the desert.

“Or perhaps you are just stubborn.”

The elite Bohrok’s dome rotated with the smooth efficiency of a Muaka on the hunt, the ginger tips of its cold eyes locking onto Pohatu, side-stepping once more and leaving the Toa’s Feet Addition to sail through thin air. For a brief instant, the Toa of Stone thought he saw his own Kanohi Nuva reflected in its polished casing.

“Without elemental powers, you Toa make for poor obstacles,” declared the Gahlok-Kal, a hint of tedium in its otherwise flat voice. Tahu and Lewa stood ready to receive it, back on their feet and weapons reclaimed.

“Leave these lands,” snarled the Toa Nuva of Fire, his armor glimmering in the desert sun, “or we can still return you to Makuta in pieces.”

“Our victory will be scribe-written on the Wall of History,” taunted Lewa, readying himself to make one final jab from his Air Katanas and penetrate the armored shell of their rival.

But the thrust never landed. Extending its Magnetic Shields, the Gahlok-Kal released a pulse of crackling purple energy that consumed all three Toa. The pain of contact was searing and immediate. Together, the Toa cried out and writhed against the intense magnetic pull, like Ruki caught in a net.

After hours of distraction they had finally earned the attention of the Gahlok-Kal, and now they were experiencing the full focus of its power. In that single, horrifying moment, Pohatu could feel the magnetic clamps of his Kanohi Nuva detaching. The Gahlok-Kal had the power to tear them apart or crush them entirely with a flick of its Magnetic Shields.

“Even powerless you Toa continue to obstruct my mission,” rasped the Bohrok-Kal, its dome twitching from side to side, eying each of the captive Toa Nuva with singular curiosity. “Perhaps taking your Nuva Symbols was not enough to break you…”

One by one, the masks tore from the faces of each Toa; first Lewa, then Pohatu, and finally Tahu. Deactivating its powers, the Gahlok-Kal claimed its prizes as the Toa crumpled to their knees. Then, just as easily as it had claimed the Kanohi, the Bohrok used its powers to scatter them into the sky, flinging into the atmosphere faster than the speed of sound. The Toa could only watch as three impossibly distant specks skyrocketed off. Judging by their trajectory, it appeared one mask would land deep in the Motara Desert, another in neighboring Ga-Wahi, and another in the ocean beyond.

“Consider this a warning, Toa. Cross my path again and I will not be so merciful.”

With the threat still hanging in the air, the Gahlok-Kal reconfigured itself into a spherical shell and rolled off into the desert at high velocity.

Staggering forward, Tahu swiped after the disappearing Bohrok-Kal, as though his sheer willpower might manifest a fireball from his fist.

“Don’t let it get away!” he bellowed as fatigue finally claimed him and he fell to one knee.

“Tahu…” said Lewa, his expression already one of miserable acceptance. “It’s past-late for that now…”

Staking his Magma Sword into the sand, the Toa of Fire watched the distant form of the Gahlok-Kal vanish from the horizon. Without his mask, a familiar dizziness eventually began to claim the humiliated warriors. Gradually, thoughts of lost dignity were forgotten as the Toa reached into their packs for the only other Kanohi Nuva they had claimed, Lewa producing the Pakari Nuva he had only recently plucked from a troop of Brakas Monkeys on the Kumu Islets and Pohatu donning the Kaukau Nuva he had found hidden in a remote caldera in Tiro Canyon. After a long moment, Tahu too relented, putting on the Akaku Nuva he had found in the center of a maze in the Charred Forrest. Like the Matoran then endeavored to protect, even heroes as powerful as the Toa Nuva relied on their Kanohi. If left without them for too long they would slip into unconsciousness, and the desert of Po-Wahi stretched too far for them to crawl back to Po-Koro.

“First our Elemental Powers and now this,” grimaced the Toa of Fire, glaring off into the horizon through the scope of his Akaku Nuva. “I will not stand for it. By Mata Nui, we are Toa Nuva and the Bohrok-Kal shall know our fury!”

“We are same-hearted, brother, but proud-standing won’t win us better fortune,” sighed Lewa, as though he regretted the truth of his words.

“Lewa’s right,” implored the Toa of Stone in a kindly fashion. “We can’t come at them with force. Our fists alone won’t defeat the Bohrok-Kal.”

“Then what will?” snapped Tahu, his expression bright, brittle, and by no means friendly. “What fresh hope have we without our masks or powers?”

Pohatu held his gaze for a long moment before looking away.

“Watch yourself, brother,” he said, his rough voice sharpening from behind the unfamiliar mouthpiece of his Mask of Water Breathing. “If we’re not careful, then we’re going to lose a lot more than just our Kanohi next time we cross paths with the Gahlok-Kal,”

A heavy silence hung in the desert air as the Toa soaked in their defeat. For days they had been battling the Bohrok-Kal, gaining scars and scratches but no ground. For the first time since they had landed on the golden shores of Mata Nui, it seemed they had lost whatever semblance of a foothold they had earned. When at last it dawned on them that their original Kanohi were beyond reach, Lewa and Pohatu turned to their leader.

But Tahu had no wisdom to impart. The Toa of Fire just stared into the empty desert, his features unreadable. Neither of his teammates could remember ever having seen him like this.

“Come on,” yielded the Toa of Fire reluctantly, his voice like thunder. “Let’s head to Po-Koro.”