Vakama reflected for a moment that he must have gone insane. Here he was, dropping hundreds of feet to hard, unyielding ground, and he was bracing for impact. As if that will make any difference at all, he thought. Even Toa armor cannot survive a fall from this height…and I am not even sure if Toa armor is what I am wearing now. As he fell he cried out in rage, but that quickly died out, changing into depression. This is my fault…my failure…again, Vakama thought. Now my friends will perish, and the Matoran with them. There is no hope.

He saw a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it was one of the other Toa passing him on the way to pavement. Instead, he felt an impact in his side as something snatched him in midair. The jarring knocked the wind out of him and the world went black.

X X X

The ground rushed to greet Nuju, at least, a ground. A smaller rooftop, rather than the floor of Metru Nui was in view and approaching. The wind made it impossible to breathe. He shut his eyes, bracing himself for his last moments.

Impact!

But not the kind he was expecting. Someone had slammed into him, cutting off his fall. Now he was being carried away by his rescuer, moving by leaps and bounds across the rubble of the city.

Nuju opened his eyes. The being that held him was like none he had ever seen before. Bent and twisted, it looked like a cross between a Turaga, a Rahkshi, and some other Rahi species. Despite its small stature, it seemed to have no difficulty scaling walls or swinging from loose cables. If Nuju's weight was a burden to the strange creature, it gave no sign.

X X X

High above, Nokama saw it happen. "What was—?" she began, before she, too, was grabbed and saved from a crushing death.

One by one, the other Toa followed, each saved by a mysterious rescuer. Matau was the last, and at the first sign of a motion blur, he shouted, "Easy! Better not bad-scratch my armor!"

X X X

Vakama stirred. The ground was moving underneath him, but he was not walking across it. No, he was being carried by someone…or something. He couldn't make out quite who it was, or where they were heading. "Your destiny is not yet complete, Vakama," the newcomer said.

"Who are you?" Vakama asked, as the being carried him across rooftops.

"A friend," came the reply. "One who has walked the path you walk. Your fellow Toa are safe as well. I will bring you to them, but prepare yourself—many things have changed."

Vakama held up his asymmetrical arms, holding two of the new blazing torch tools. He looked back and forth between them before dropping them limply. "Wh—what's happened to me?"

His rescuer said nothing, just continued putting distance between them and the Coliseum. Vakama wondered if perhaps he had fallen out of the molten protodermis vat and into the Great Furnace. What if this new "friend" was some pawn of the Visorak, carrying him off to a fate even worse than death?

"Answer me!" demanded Vakama, jerking from the vocal effort. "I am a Toa!"

The strange figure who carried him chuckled softly. "Not exactly," was the reply.

X X X

Matau woke up face-down in a gutter. He had been unceremoniously dumped there by his rescuer, who had disappeared. He lifted his head and looked around, noting that it was the middle of the night and he was somewhere in the ruins of Ga-Metru.

"Hello?" he called. "Nokama? Vakama? Nuju? Onewa?"

When no response came, Toa Matau reached up to clear the grit from his eyes. The first sight that greeted his newly cleared vision was his own reflection in the liquid protodermis pooled by the gutter. But the face that looked back at him was not that of a Toa. It was the face of a monstrous beast.

"No!" Matau shouted. His hands shot to his face, desperately seeking evidence that what he saw was not real. But it was. He could feel the rough contours of his features where once there had been the smooth, hard metallic surface of a Kanohi mask.

"But this isn't me," he said softly. "This can't be real; I can't be ugly…" Then anger rose in him—anger at the way he looked, anger at Makuta for destroying his city, anger at Vakama for leading them into a trap. He swiped at the puddle, stirring its surface and distorting his reflection.

As if it could get any more distorted, he thought. When the water had calmed once more, he could see other bestial shapes approach him.

X X X

Nuju's journey came to an end in the ruins of Ga-Metru. The other Toa were already there, all of them transformed into freakish combinations of their own forms and the bodies of beasts. They were confused and horrified by what they had become.

The Toa of Ice turned to ask his short, strange-looking savior a question, only to find that all six of the little creatures were gone. Mysteries built atop other mysteries, he thought. And none of them helping to solve the greatest of them all—what have we become?

His mood was not improved by the discovery that his mask powers no longer worked. Whether that was a result of damage to the mask itself as a result of the mutation, or some side effect of the transformation on his own mind, he did not know. Even worse, his ice powers no longer responded to his commands. His Toa tools were gone as well, replaced by strange pieces of equipment whose function he could not comprehend.

He looked at his friends—where once they had been powerful, noble Toa, now they resembled something that would be hidden in a sub-level of the Archives. Each Toa was different from before, their tools gone, and their masks changed. Each had a large silver plate on their front chest as armor, while their arms and legs still bore their respective elemental colors.

Vakama looked at the beasts around him. "Nokama…Matau…oh, no…" he whispered to himself. What…what have we become? he wondered.

Matau looked by far the worst, backing away as Nuju and the other Toa came near. "Ah!" he cried in surprise, quickly pushing himself to his feet. Matau began flailing his arms wildly and making a bunch of growling sounds to scare away what he perceived as some kind of Rahi beast. "I'm warning you! I'm an animal! I'm mean, and I'm green! And if you come close, I'm gonna hurt ya!"

Nokama instinctively moved to comfort him. "Matau," she whispered.

Matau froze. "Nokama?"

"It's alright," she said.

Matau looked up at her, then at the others. They were no longer Toa, they were not even Matoran or Turaga. They were beasts…monsters…things out of a Matoran scare-story. "Alright?" he snapped, thrusting his new, twisted arm in her face. "You call this alright?"

"We're all here," Nokama replied. "We'll find a way out. Together."

"Because that's what friends do," added Whenua, his tone more gentle than Matau had ever heard it.

Matau advanced on Vakama with surprising quickness, thrusting his face right up to the Toa of Ta-Metru. "l don't hear you saying that, smelt-head. What's the matter? Too busy think-planning another master plan? Maybe you can get us killed next time, instead of just turned into monster-beasts!"

Vakama stepped away, snarling. "I'm through making plans!"

"Well, that's the first happy-cheer thing I've heard since I turned ugly!" Matau replied.

Nuju frowned. Bickering was going to get them nowhere. Their future as Toa, or whatever they might be now, was going to depend on the decisions made in the next few moments. He stepped between the two Toa. "Regardless of how we look, it might be better if we use our energy to find out how and why we have become…whatever it is we are," he said.

"Yes. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can rescue the Matoran," Nokama agreed. "But where do we start?"

Matau turned to them and shrugged, unconvinced. "How are we to be-saving when we are the ones that need-saving?"

No one had an answer. Then a voice laden with age and wisdom broke the stillness, its source nearby yet unseen. "If you are wise…if you wish to be what you once were…" All six Toa turned at the strange voice, seeing six figures emerge from the shadows. The beings that had saved them from their fall had reappeared, seemingly out of thin air. They regarded the Toa, not with fear or horror, but with sadness and resolve. The one in front was dark red, and he surveyed the Toa one by one. "Then you will listen," he finished.

X X X

Roodaka stood in the gloom of the sundial chamber. The great timing devices had stopped dead during the dual eclipse in Metru Nui—the moment Makuta had waited for had come and gone, the moment when he would seize his destiny. But the Toa had frustrated him, defeated him, and now he lay trapped behind a sealed layer of protodermis.

The ebony viceroy of the Visorak gazed at the stone in the palm of her hand. It was rough and black, like obsidian, carved by her from the outer surface of Makuta's prison. Even so small an effort had cost her much pain, for only six Toa could pierce the shell that surrounded the Master of Shadows without paying the price.

"Rest, my Makuta," she crooned to the stone. "Sleep, and know that as you do, I draw close to waking you."

She smiled, an expression that would have sent even the bravest Visorak running for refuge. "The Toa have returned, as you said they would. Even now, their broken bodies are being brought to me so I may drain them of their elemental powers—powers I will use to shatter the wretched seal they bound you with that keeps us apart!"

Roodaka gently, lovingly placed the Makuta stone into a niche in her breastplate. It began to pulse like any other average heartlight. "And then, there will be no need for these charades with Sidorak," she whispered. "Together, you and I will—" She stopped abruptly. Her expression turned as hard as the stone. Coldly, she demanded, "What is it?"

A Visorak stepped out of the thick shadows, looking like it wanted more than anything to run. But if the message it carried was not delivered, Roodaka would track the unfortunate spider down and then…it shuddered at the thought and began its report.

Roodaka listened intently. After only a few moments, she interrupted. "The Toa?" she cried, her claws digging into the surface of the nearest stone wall. She scraped then along in anger, creating a harsh screech as she voiced, "Why do you speak of them as if they are still alive!?"

The Visorak's mouth was dry. It glanced about, making note of where all the chamber's exits were. Then, very quickly, it answered her question.

Roodaka's reaction was immediate. Whirling, she smashed a pillar into dust. The Visorak backed away before she decided to vent her anger on it. But the viceroy of the hordes had no interest in one mere spider. No, her rage was reserved for a very specific group of individuals, whose name she spat out as if it were poison: "Rahaga!?"