Vakama strode down the stairs of his home. It was strange, he thought, that he had had the odd dream last night of a star crashing into the mountains. He took a step into the street and gasped in shock as a blaze of red light blotted out the city. Unable to see, Vakama tripped over the staff he had dropped, and slammed into a wall. His last thought was that the impact was not as severe as it should have been…
At the same time, Nuju had been working on deciphering an inscription on the wall of his home. He stopped as he heard a sound like rending metal. Then he was blinded by the blaze of light…
Onewa was helping carve a statue of Matoro, a fitting tribute to the hero who had saved the Matoran Universe at the cost of his life. He had just stooped to pick up his hammer when a blaze of energy struck him. He fell to the ground, glowing with red lightning…
“Vakama!”, cried a voice. “Awake and protect your people!”
He groaned as he stood up. Everything was covered in a strange red dust, and Matoran were running in panic.
“What happened?”, Vakama shouted.
The nearest Matoran, Onepu, stared in shock at the area where Vakama stood, then drew a knife.
“Who’s there?”, he said, his voice grim.
Vakama looked at his hand, only to realize that he couldn’t see it. He deactivated his Huna, and then stared at his arm. It was lithe and red, with orange highlights. He towered over Onepu, who had backed off slightly.
“What has happened?”, said Vakama. “I am a Toa Metru once more…”