Toa Norik moved carefully through a narrow passage below the Coliseum of Metru Nui. Behind him, the other Toa Hagah walked single-file, eyes and ears alert for any threat. All of them knew they were in uncharted territory – going somewhere no Toa, Matoran, Turaga, or other intelligent native of this universe had ever gone before.
Well, that was not completely true. If what the Order of Mata Nui suspected was true, Makuta Teridax had traveled this route not long ago. Of course, that information came from an evil Piraka, Zaktan, who was now traveling along with the Toa Hagah. His recent mutation into a sea creature meant Zaktan had to be carried by Kualus in a water-filled globe.
“This reminds me of the Archives,” Toa Iruini whispered. After a pause he added, “I pretty much hated that place too.”
“You have to admit, though, Teridax fits right in here,” said Pouks. “Dark, dank, the kind of place only a stone rat could love.”
“We’re not looking for a new home,” snapped Norik. “Focus on the job.”
“That’s right, fight among yourselves,” hissed Zaktan. “You Toa are all alike – all mewling idiots.”
“Well, not all alike,” Kualus chuckled. “I, for one, am much clumsier than the average Toa. In fact, I feel your globe slipping from my fingers even as we speak. Certainly hope I don’t drop it.”
Zaktan cursed. Kualus responded by dropping the globe for an instant, then catching it again. “Whoops. There I go again,” said the Toa.
Up ahead, Norik had come to a stop. Using a small portion of his flame power, he was illuminating one of the walls of the tunnel. On it was a series of inscriptions, apparently very ancient in origin.
“Is that Matoran? It doesn’t look like it,” said Norik. “I don’t recognize the language.”
“Let me see,” said Bomonga. Being something of a master of the underground, Bomonga had seen more than his share of old inscriptions. “It’s not Matoran, I don’t think … maybe some kind of root language. I can make out a little of it … not much … I think it’s some kind of record.”
“A record of what?” asked Gaaki.
Bomonga stared at the writing for a while before answering, “I can’t tell. All I can make out is a name … not sure if it’s a person or a place … ‘Bara Magna.’”
No one said anything as they searched their memories for that name. After a few moments, all realized they had never heard it before. If it was somewhere in the universe they knew, then it must have been in an unexplored region.
“Does it say anything about how to stuff a Makuta into his armor and then flush it away?” asked Iruini.
“I wish,” muttered Bomonga.
“All right, let’s keep going,” said Norik. “Zaktan, how much farther do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” snapped the Piraka. “I haven’t been here either. I just know that the inscriptions I read hinted that this was where the Makuta had to come. I’m not sure he even knew for sure what was down here, or that ‘here’ actually existed – I think he was guessing.”
“Nothing worse than a Makuta who’s a good guesser,” mumbled Iruini.
“I expected this trip to be more … dangerous,” said Pouks. “From the way Gaaki was talking when we left … about it being a place of death, and all that … I expected loads of traps and nasty Rahi. So far, this is a stroll through Metru Nui.”
The tunnel was suddenly filled with a low hum, which grew louder by the moment. Too late, Iruini cried out, “Out! Everybody out!” The next instant, he was slammed against the wall, followed by the other Toa Hagah. It was only by sheer luck that Kualus was able to twist his body so that Zaktan’s globe did not get smashed to pieces by the impact.
Now all six Toa Hagah were trapped, pinned to the wall by a powerful magnetic force. Norik immediately called on his power of fire, but the tunnel was fireproof. Each of the others tried their powers in turn, only to find that the wall was somehow impervious to their elemental energies.
“Makuta?” asked Iruini.
“I don’t think so,” Norik answered. “He’s not this subtle. I think this is one of those traps Pouks was so relieved we missed out on.”
“Well, it could be worse,” said Kualus. “I mean, given time, I’m sure we can figure a way to get free.”
“Why do I think time is the last thing we’ll be given?” said Bomonga. “Do you smell that?”
They all did. It was a hot, metallic scent that wafted from the tunnel up ahead. They all knew what it was, but Norik was the first to speak it aloud.
“It’s molten protodermis,” he said quietly. “And it’s headed this way.”