Interlude One

Takanuva’s vision of the past…

The crimson-armored being opened his eyes and looked around. He did not recognize where he was, nor did he have any idea who the five figures nearby might be. Each of them was lying on a slab, just like him, and each wore colored armor and a mask. But where he was red, they were other hues: white, blue, green, black, and brown.

Of course, it came as no great surprise that he didn’t know who these others were. After all, he wasn’t sure who he was, either.

He started to rise, then found he could not. Thick metal straps encircled him, keeping him pinned to the slab. Unsure of his identity as he was, he still knew that he did not like being bound. He tried to exert his strength against the bonds, but without success. His frustration and anger grew. And then, suddenly, the metal of the straps was growing soft, turning to molten liquid, running off him and onto the floor.

Did I do that? he wondered, as he sat up.

On the next slab, the white-armored figure had frozen his straps, and then shattered them with the merest gesture. The others had all found unique ways to escape their bonds as well.

“Well, we’re all free,” said the red-armored being. “Now what? Anyone know where we are… or who we are?”

The answer came then, but not from any of them. Rather, it was a voice that seemed to come from every part of the room that spoke in reply. “You are Toa.”

The figure in the brown armor jumped down from his slab and onto his feet. “Toa! Hey, that’s great. I always wanted to be a Toa.” He looked up and addressed his next words to the ceiling. “Just one question: what’s a Toa?”

“A Toa is a hero,” the voice answered. “Every Toa commands an elemental power, which can be focused through your weapons. Each of you also wears a Great Mask, with a power all its own. You will learn about these powers in time, as well as how to control them.”

The white-armored figure frowned. “To whom are we meant to be heroes, and why? You say we have great abilities, but what are we meant to do with them? Too many questions for my taste.”

The unseen speaker laughed softly. “You underestimate yourself, Kopaka — yes, that is your name. Questions will always whet your appetite for answers. But now it is time for you to meet.”

A lightstone illuminated on the ceiling above Kopaka, as the voice said, “Kopaka, Toa of Ice.”

One by one, the lightstones lit above the others as the speaker recited their names.

“Gali, Toa of Water.

“Pohatu, Toa of Stone.

“Onua, Toa of Earth.

“Lewa, Toa of Air.”

The last to be named was the crimson-armored figure. “And Tahu, Toa of Fire. He will be your leader.”

That seemed to startle Kopaka, who said sharply, “It seems to me we should be allowed to choose our own leader.”

“I have to agree,” said Gali quietly. “I mean, none of us know anything about this Tahu. What if he’s too impulsive to be a good leader? What if he lacks the ability to work with his team members, or can’t motivate, or —”

Lewa chuckled. “Or what if he’s just a jerk?”

A bolt of flame shot from an irritated Tahu past the Toa of Air, close enough to heat his mask to an uncomfortable temperature. Lewa reached up and yanked the mask off. Immediately, he felt so weak he almost fell over. Pohatu and Onua rushed to support him.

“You must not remove your masks, unless you are replacing one with another,” the voice said. “Without them, your strength is halved.”

Lewa gingerly returned the hot mask to his face. “Thanks — ow! — for telling us.” He turned to glare at Tahu. “And as for you, fireflyer, better be careful a big wind doesn’t blow you out one of these days.”

“Big wind,” Tahu said, nodding. “Yes, that’s you, all right.”

Kopaka decided to ignore the argument. “So we are a team,” he said to their unseen host. “Again, I ask — for what purpose? What are we meant to do?”

A panel slid open in the far wall. Beyond, there was only darkness.

“The gateway to another mystery, perhaps,” said Onua. “I wonder if a Toa’s life is filled with them.”

“Then this will be just the first of many we walk through,” Tahu replied. “Let’s go.”

Beyond the door, there was a long, narrow platform that jutted out into the empty space of a massive, spherical chamber. The cavernous room was totally dark. Only Onua was able to see at all, thanks to excellent night vision the others lacked.

This was not altogether a blessing, because it allowed him to see just how high off the ground they were standing. He peered nervously over the edge of the platform. Being a creature of the earth, heights were not his favorite thing.

There was a sudden burst of light. A symbol illuminated in mid-air and hung silently before the eyes of the Toa. In the center was an oval shape, flanked to the northeast and southwest by two much smaller ones. On either side of the three ovals were larger curved shapes which ended in two sharp points.

The voice spoke again. “Your universe is guided and protected by the Great Spirit Mata Nui. You, in turn, shall be Mata Nui’s protectors. What you see before you is the symbol of his might and purpose.”

Pohatu was the first to put what all the Toa were thinking into words. “If he’s a ‘Great Spirit,’ why does he need protection?”

“The universe is vast and holds many dangers,” the voice replied. “If Mata Nui should ever be struck down, it will be your role — your destiny — to restore him to power. If that time comes, you will know what to do.”

“And in the meantime?” asked Tahu. “Do we just sit around and wait?”

“You will train. You will learn,” the voice said. “And, in time, you will go to the aid of the Matoran, who labor to carry out the will of Mata Nui.”

“Sure,” said Pohatu. “Hey, the Matoran could probably use our help. You know, what with laboring all day to carry out somebody’s will and everything.”

All five other Toa turned to look at Pohatu. Finally, Gali smiled and said, “All right, Pohatu. Go ahead. Say it.”

Pohatu shrugged, looked up, and asked, “Okay, I give up: what’s a Matoran?”