Deep beneath the island of Mata Nui, in a cavern so far below the surface that no ray of light had ever pierced its darkness, a pair of glowing red eyes stared out of a huge, shadowy face. Unblinking, the eyes turned upward, seeing far beyond what lay before them, through rock and earth and sand, all the way to the distant sunlit surface.
“Soooooooooo…” a deep, ominous voice breathed into the empty cave. “Toa. You have defeated the Bohrok swarms… as it was foreseen. And in doing so, you have called forth the instrument of your own doom.”
The red eyes blinked and narrowed.
“And though the prophecies of the Matoran may sing of the Toa’s might, we shall soon see that even the spirit of a hero can be broken.” The dark voice sounded pleased. “The time has come – time to awaken the next protectors of Mata Nui’s slumber. It is left to them to avenge the defeat of their Bohrok brothers. And to preserve things as they should be… as they must be… forever.”