For the Matoran, it began as just any other day in the Archives. He was, as always, assigned to take inventory. However boring this might sound, it is vital to the safety of the workers in the Archives, as some of the Rahi and other creatures stored there are extremely dangerous, and if one were to break loose, the results would be disastrous.
Whilst taking the inventory, he passed by a quite large crack in the wall. Though cracks like this would normally be easily dismissed, the Matoran felt that he should take a closer look, as one can never be too careful in the Archives. As he examined it, he was surprised to find light coming from the crack. As he was underground, this was quite interesting, and he tried prying it open further.
To his surprise, the crack swung open, being in reality part of a door that had been covered in rock. He opened the door to reveal a rather small closet, of which the only contents were a mask, a slab, and a lightstone. Upon further inspection, he found the slab to have writing on it, the like of which he had never seen. Taking the objects he had found, he showed them to the other Matoran working in the Archives, but none of them knew anything about the objects, or that the closet had even existed. He took the slab all around Metru Nui, trying to find someone who could translate it, but not even the Scholars in Ko-Metru or the Teachers in Ga-Metru could manage the feat.
Discouraged, the Matoran returned to his home in Onu-Metru. There, he found that the writing was similar to the writing on tablets that had recently been discovered in the Archives. Working tirelessly, he stayed up day and night, translating it into something understandable. This affected his work, making him so tired during the day that he would occasionally fall asleep on the job, and with no support from anyone else, he was stretched to the limit between duties.
Still, day after day, week after week, he translated, never showing a single doubt (though he had many) that his work was important. After many run-ins with the Vahki for being late, and countless sleepless nights, he finally finished the project. He began reading what he had uncovered, his excitement growing with every word. He had inadvertently uncovered one of the most important things in Matoran history. He had found blueprints to the universe.
Of course, amazing as this was, having the all of the universes secrets in his possession, he had no plans to act on this. He simply planned to turn it over to the Archives, in the process becoming one of the most famous beings to have ever existed. He dreamt of seeing large crowds gathering, just to see him, Matoran saying ‘That’s him! That’s the one who discovered the amazing tablet! We should never have laughed at him and his diligence!”
And so, the next morning, he rushed as fast as he could to the Archives, eager to begin his life of fame and fortune. However, as soon as he had showed it to the Chief Archivist, the Chief had just laughed, saying that he had obviously come upon some very well played hoax. The Matoran protested, but the Chief wouldn’t listen, and said to get back to work.
That night, in his dwelling, the embittered Matoran decided to show that his work had not been in vain. He began to really study what the tablet was saying. Eventually, he came across instructions on how to make a power source that was large enough to run the universe. In fact, you could say that it was the way towards Absolute Power.
He made up his mind. If he could make the power source successfully, he would prove once and for all that he was right. It took quite a few widgets to get everything he needed, so he was forced to live on very small amounts of money. It was worth it, though. Soon, he had all the ingredients he needed, even the Energized Protodermis, which was something of a difficulty to get. He had discovered that the lightstone and the mysterious mask he had found were actually extremely essential to the power source, though why they were the only specific ingredients found with the tablet was not clear.
He put everything together in the Energized Protodermis containment units, as nothing else would be able to hold it. After a while of thoroughly dispersing everything else in, he was ready to put in the mask. Deciding to try it on before he dissolved it in the mixture, he took off his current mask and replaced it with this one. It felt strange, as some kind of energy unlike anything he had ever felt flowed through his body. He reached up to pull the mask off, but he lost his balance, dropping him off of the ladder he had been standing on, and into the murky vat.
Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find himself alive, though his body ached all over. However, noticing the more pressing matter of not being able to breathe, he tried to swim up and break the surface of the liquid. However, he ended of hitting his head on a wall of some sort. He tried swimming the opposite direction, but found another barrier, blocking him from precious air. Desperate, he rammed against it with a strength he did not know he had, exerting so much force that the vat simply disintegrated against the pressure.
Drying himself off, he noticed that he had started glowing after his unpleasant dip in the vat. He felt raw energy coursing through his body, greatly enhancing his physical attributes, as he discovered. He decided that he would rest for the night, and that tomorrow he would prove that old fool who was the better Archivist around the Metru.
On his way to the Archives, he decided to take the long way, figuring that with all this power, not even those pesky Vahki could push him around. As he was walking down an alleyway, three thugs jumped out of nowhere.
“Okay, buddy, we’re going to make this simple. You give us all of your money, and anything else you happen to be carrying, and we let you go real easy. You refuse, and we have a problem. Got it?”
“But I don’t have any money left!” The Matoran protested. It was true. He had spent it all on his research.
“Well, then it looks like we have a problem. Get ‘im, boys!”
The Matoran panicked. Then he remembered his power. He could handle them easily, like taking berries from a cub Ash Bear. He closed his eyes and lashed out with a punch. He heard screaming and running. He opened his eyes, expecting to find all three of the thugs running like scared Rahi. Instead, only two were managing to get away. The other one was laying on the ground, with a fist-sized hole straight through his heartlight. He stared at the thug. He couldn’t have done this. He just couldn’t. But no matter how many times he tried to deny it in his mind, he knew he was the perpetrator of this terrible act.
After just standing there for a moment, he noticed that the sick feeling in the pit of the stomach wasn’t just coming from emotion. It was physical, and beginning to turn into a blinding pain. He stumbled around, leaning on a building for support, and suddenly realized what was happening. Power like this, so absolute in its infinite energy, had never been meant for the likes of any physical being. It was too powerful for his frail Matoran body to contain, and was slowly destroying him from the inside out. He thought it ironic that the power that had saved his life earlier was now going to take it from him. He fell over, his mind beginning to fade away…
The Matoran woke up laying on his bed in his dwelling. Looking around, he discerned that he was still alive. He got up, searching his dwelling for any signs of his experiments. Finding none, he dismissed the memories in his mind as just a bad dream. As he was preparing to go to the Archives for another day of work, he spotted a glimmer under his bed. Reaching under, he felt around until he felt something. He pulled it out, and saw something that sent chills up his spine. It was a small, closet shaped package, similar to the Archival closet he had stumbled upon in his dreams. He opened the package.
Inside was the Lightstone, the Mask, and the Tablet.