[center][h3][sup]Fe-Congro, Two Hours to Sunset[/sup][/h3][/center]
[h2][color=6ecff6]Kumanu[/color][/h2]

The match was over. It had been a good one, Kumanu thought, with both teams playing well and providing the audience with an exciting demonstration of skill. For once, the matoran hadn't been competing for prestige or position in the league, but playing for enjoyment and to honour the Great Spirit by their hard work, athleticism and artistry.

Most of the crowd had dispersed now, with many moving on to a concert to be given by an orchestra from De-Congro. Still, Kumanu's eyes scanned across the stands for a familiar mask: he had arranged to meet up with Hura in the stands after the match. Spotting the diminutive Bo-matoran standing beside a heavy-set Ta-matoran, he hurried over.

[color=6ecff6]"Hi there, Hura"[/color] he called, waving as he made his way over. [color=6ecff6]"That was a good match, wasn't it? Anyway, you remember those crooks who grabbed us earlier about the Toa Stone? The little one stole my best disk. So anyway, I want to spoil their fun, and give them a bit of karma while getting my disk back. Are you up for helping me there? For justice?"[/color]