.....The wind howled atop the ramparts, but he kept his gaze steady and silent, fixed on a distant ship sailing off the horizon. He grinned lightly, content in the truth of his wisdom. It seemed but a moment before that he had witnessed that Matoran return from the temple, dazed from the onslaught of destiny. This same being, his finest subject, his protégé, now embarked to finish his mission, their mission. He would return here soon, and with him, the greatest change the world had seen since the elder days.

.....The ship faded into the distant clouds, and he descended into his city. Here, on the outskirts, little stirred from his presence. He preferred this quiet to the oppressive roar of his downtown streets. Here, he could hear the echoes of the silence that once gripped the entire island.

.....He paused, and sat on the pedestal of a nearby statue, placing a hand on one of its feet. He looked up at it, admiring its aggressive form. It stood strong, clutching its staff as if in combat, its eyes glaring and its mouth wide, its quiet scream almost enough to chill the spines of passers-by. He patted the behemoth's foot, breaking the silence beneath the stone.