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He paced back and forth, unable to force the thought back down. It had occurred so naturally, so fluidly. At first, he had dismissed it as nothing, a mere delusion at the time of its conception. But now? Now, he wasn’t so sure.
It couldn’t be that those blustering would-be warlords had the right idea, could it? The wrong intentions, certainly. The lack of coordination and ability, most definitely... but could they have had the right idea? He clenched his fist in frustration. This so-called “Great Spirit” should have been paying more attention to the universe over which he had dominion. If he had been, then none of this would have happened. No... that was not the way to think, was it?
The problem with questions was that they were difficult to be rid of if left unanswered. The problem with this question was that it could not be answered verbally. Action would have to be taken. To most, attempting to answer this question was a crime against the universe. To dare to find the answer would be rebellious, ludicrous, and—to some extent—downright evil.
Yet... it would not be impossible.
Improbable? Absolutely. But impossible?
He smiled. He had never believed in impossibility. It was one thing to have the power to achieve a goal. It was another to have the drive, the will to make sure everything happened according to plan. With only one of those, one could never hope to attain one’s ambitions. This, however, was not the case. He had both. Given a sliver of opportunity, he knew he could lead his brothers—alongside the people of this universe—to ultimate victory.
At that moment, he sealed his fate. The facts had dared elude him for long enough. All that was left in his mind was clarity.
Mata Nui was not a fit ruler. He ignored this universe, allowed six insects to usurp the natural order and harm innocents. He was indifferent to the transgressions committed in this world or had simply moved on to other prospects. In either case, the well-being of his people had clearly not been taken into account.
The trouble, he realized, was not in seizing power from Mata Nui. With the brilliant minds of his brothers at work, that would be the easy part. No, the difficulty would be in convincing the Matoran that their blind faith in the Great Spirit would be detrimental to them in the long run. They would have to see that the Makuta were the only beings that truly looked after them.
After all, the Makuta created the birds that flew and the fish that swam and provided the creatures the Matoran used in their labors. They crushed the tyrannical rule of the Barraki and returned conquered lands to their proper leaders. They were tangible, not some spirit that watched over all, unseen and unheard. They had power, but they were benevolent. They had the potential to turn to evil, but they had the will to work towards the greater good.
He chuckled. Perhaps convincing the Matoran that Mata Nui was an absentee ruler would not be so difficult. He had convinced himself fairly easily, and his mind was not as fickle as those of the Matoran.
For now, though, it was best to keep these ambitions to himself. Should Miserix or any of those so foolishly committed to Mata Nui catch on, the plan would be over before it could be enacted.
It would take years for any definite form of the plan to come to fruition, but he had one quality those such as Icarax and Gorast lacked—patience, purely unadulterated patience. He knew he would succeed. He believed those silly little virtues that the Matoran cherished were not applicable only to them.
Unity would be needed for this plan to have any hope of working.
It was the duty of the Brotherhood to overthrow Mata Nui.
And it was the destiny of Makuta Teridax to ignite the revolution.
Edited by Sky-Byte, Apr 08 2012 - 05:02 PM.
