Volcanus, Bara Magna; 13 years after the creation of the matoran universe. Ceirallen was running. Ice-pick in hand, a rare gem in the other, Ceirallen ran for his life towards Volcanus. A horde of Bone Hunters mounting gleaming metallic Skirmix beasts charged after him. If only Ceirallen could make it to the village, the Hunters would leave him alone.... "Hello stranger," the Glatorian stated in a masculine, inquisitive voice. "I see you've made some friends there.....?" "Ceirallen," Ceirallen responded, flashing his wrist blade.