Griston was a Po-Matoran. He is usually quiet and shy, but that was because he had felt true pain. Griston had been ripped apart, put back together into a weaker form, ripped apart again, and rebuilt into the body he has now. Griston wore the mask of aging, a mask carved by the insane Karzahni himself. Most of the other Matoran that were rebuilt by Karzahni abandoned their former masks, saying that their powers were “immoral”. Griston never understood why this was the case, because they could not use their powers anyways. He kept his mask because he saw no need in changing masks, and felt it would be a waste of a mask not to use it.
Although he knew he could not access his powers, his mask had been acting strangely recently. He wondered if he was the cause of The Aging, and decided to change masks soon just to be sure. However, the second dreaming plague hit his city hard, and no one in his city was left mentally unscathed. All but him, that is.
One day, Turaga Onua came up to Griston holding a stone in his hand.
“Griston…” He uttered, already a victim to the second dreaming plague, “You seem to be special, as you are unscathed by the plague. This brings upon a heavy responsibility to you, to possibly save our village. I do not know how far this plague has already spread, since are village is under quarantine. We have received news from Turaga Takanuva via light signals that the plague has hit his village. I want you to travel to the New Coliseum, and use this.” He grumbled as he handed the stone over. Instead of asking questions, Griston simply took the stone and left, leaving the Turaga without a word.
Obstes was a Ga-Matoran. She daydreamt a lot, in the hope that her dreams would come true. But she never wished for power or wealth, but for the ability to help others. This is why she was a healer; she could rebuild a Matoran from head to toe, if she wanted to. She had learned this skill by rebuilding herself long ago after being trapped in Karzahni. The Turaga insisted on helping her be rebuilt, but she managed to do it herself, which was not an easy feat. However, since she had no help from the Turaga rebuilding herself, she kept her old mask, the mask of conjuring.
In recent times, her skills as a healer have risen dramatically. She found out that if she concentrates on her patient hard enough before healing them, they heal faster. She believes it is just her own superstition, but her mask has been acting strange recently, but no matter what the cause of her quick-healings are, they were useless to victims of the second dreaming plague. But she somehow managed to stay away from the nightmares…
“Obstes” Turaga Gali quietly intruded, “I apologize to disturb you from your studies...”
“Is it more urgent than finding a cure to the plague?” Obstes replied quickly, “I am finding out more and more how this illness works, I must not be disturbed now. I have just found out that the illness is not spiritual, as it was thought, but something of flesh and blood, something that can be touched. Why you can’t see or feel it now, I do not know, which is why I need my time to find out. I am sorry, Turaga, but could you find another time to talk?”
“But I have something that may help you” She uttered, holding out a blue stone.
“Fascinating, but how will a rock help me?”
“Matoran are becoming ill” The Turaga said sternly, “The plague is spreading like a wildfire, everyone who is touched by a victim seems to contract the illness for themselves.”
“I know this.” Obstes impatiently mumbled.
“And you work with these victims on a daily basis, and yet you show no signs of the plague. I must admit, I too have started seeing the red eyes. Yet you avoid it, why? You are special, Obstes, and you can save our village. Yes, you have been making progress here, but a prophecy is being fulfilled, and you must do your duty to our village. Take this stone…” The Turaga said, pushing the stone into her hand “And may the Great Beings guide you on your trip to the New Coliseum.”
Akata was a Le-Matoran. He was very fast to talk, and often didn’t think before he spoke. He would often find himself in a situation where he said something that he was not supposed to, making him one of the most honest Matoran on Spherus Magna. In recent times, however, he stopped talking as much as he used to because he found that people were annoyingly hard to talk to. Lately, people have begun to mumble, and he could hardly understand what people were trying to say to him.
He felt it was ironic that people could not speak clearly to him, and he had the mask of incomprehension. He knew it was powerless, so it must be a coincidence. He had this mask because of a simple mishap on the part of the Turaga. At the time, the Turaga that was rebuilding him ran out of Kanohi masks, and went to get some more. During the time that Akata waited, he wandered off, forgetting about the mask, and didn’t bother to get another one since the one he had was doing a fine job at letting him not slip into a coma.
“How is the contraption working?” Turaga Kongu asked.
“Perfect” Replied Akata, taking a short break from his tapping, “There is a little wonder-confusion with the code, but other than that, we just got the nearest stone village connected. We just got a Toa of Lightning to extend the circuit, but she recently fell dream-ill…”
“It seems as if everyone is getting these nightmares, even I started to get them. For the first time in centuries, I feel afraid. Yet you are not dream-ill, how? Is it wind-luck, or set-fate? I would like to think set-fate, but with that small hint of doubt in my mind, I will give you this” He said, holding out a green stone. “Take this to the new coliseum. If it is set-fate, and you are the one, you can quick-save us all.”
Panah was a Ta-Matoran. He was a disk maker, along with making a number of other items. He paid extreme attention to detail when making his items, and his disks were considered one of the best in the city, with the least number of rejects. Unlike other disk makers, who made their disks with a disk press, a machine that molded molten metal into several disks at once, he still makes his disks by hand. He had often said that his mask, the mask of sensory aptitude, allowed him to pay so much attention to detail, but he knew this was impossible because it was powerless. However, in recent years he is now not so sure it is impossible, because his mask has been acting strangely. It has been glowing slightly every now and then, and making him feel odd occasionally.
“It seems like just yesterday I was making disks like you, Panah.” Turaga Vakama said to the Matoran. “And a certain Toa came in and changed my life forever. Now I can do the same for you.” He said, holding out a red stone.
“A Toa stone?” Panah said, aware of what they did. “But, why?”
“An, so you remember the stories?” Vakama said, looking around the room for Dark Hunters, forgetting he wasn’t the Matoran this time. “Spherus Magna needs you, and a shadow is once again spreading.”
“You mean the Second Dreaming Plague?”
“Yes, that is the Darkness sweeping over the planet. But darkness can not touch light, and light is hope. I have kept my eye on you, Panah, and you are not a victim of the Plague. The plague can not touch you, because you are light. You are our hope. Take this stone to the Suva in the New Coliseum, and become what you were meant to be.”
“But how can I stop a plague? How do I fight a disease?”
“You have much to learn, Panah. You will find the answer on your journey.”
Deleh was an Onu-Matoran. He was rough, anti-social, and many Matoran were scared of him. He caused no harm to anyone, but looked intimidating. It was mostly because of his mask, the mask of undeath. It may have been powerless, but it still looked terrifying. Deleh said that he kept the immoral mask as a reminder for why he needed repaired and was sent to Karzahni. He would never say why he was damaged, but he regrets it deeply. Recently, the mask has been acting strangely; Deleh was being depleted of energy, acting sluggish, as if the mask was leeching from his life force. However, he knew his mask was powerless, so it couldn’t possibly work, could it?
“Deleh!” Turaga Garan shouted, bursting into Deleh’s hut. “The eyes, I see them, it’s too late for me. Everywhere, watching, running, hunting in the night. Take this!” He said, pushing a stone into Deleh’s hands. “Six will lead the way in the New Coliseum. You are one! Please, make the eyes go away! I have faith in you, I am counting on you!”
It was not worth trying to get the Turaga to say any more, he was too far gone. Deleh took the Turaga and laid him out on his bed and tied his arms to the sides of it, so he would not hurt himself. He had heard too many cases of suicide in attempts to get rid of the nightmares…