“Him the Almighty Power, Hurled headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion down, To bottomless perdition, there to dwell, In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.”
-John Milton, Paradise Lost
Guilt is a terrible thing, gnawing away at your mind from the dark corners within, driving you to madness with its mental agony.
Thankful, the Makuta of Metru-Nui did not have it.
Teridax had committed the ultimate sin -- Thinking of a way to destroy his leader, his god and guiding spirit, Mata-Nui.
He felt no remorse over doing so; Indeed, he almost seemed to enjoy this act, a fatal one if discovered.
It had all started with the crushing of Pridak and his pitiful allies. Their armies stood no chance against him and his brotherhood’s might, they were wiped from existence in a way similar to how a Kane-Ra would swat a fly. It was the idea of the Barraki that was so dangerous, so powerful and unstoppable. Pridak would have a been a martyr for that idea, had not the strange teleporting being appeared. Perhaps it is better this way, Teridax thought. Martyrs have a tendency to live forever; Rather ironic, considering their deceased state.
Flexing his powerful, still-organic muscles, Teridax looked around the room he occupied, considering his options. If he devoted himself to this idea of usurping the Great Spirit, it would take a lifetime, if not longer. It was possible that his idea would have to be passed on, so that if - when would have a better word, traitors did not live long- his death occurred, the idea could still reach conclusion.
He tried to reason with himself, thinking about how to forget the blasphemous idea, but it was parasitic, thriving in the back of his mind, refusing to die or be forgotten for more than moments. Every time the Makuta of Metru-Nui encountered a Matoran discussing the Spirit’s kindness, the Spirit’s wisdom, the Spirit’s awesome sense of justice, he found himself thinking of the nature of their worship, their mindless love for an intangible being far away, loosely ruling them. If this Mata-Nui was so kind, so divine, why did he not share his perfection with others? Why didn’t he allow the workers to have the amount of knowledge he possessed? Why would one so great refuse to share such a paradise of mind? One needed to rise up and defeat this spirit, so that something else, something that will rule with true justice, will take its place.
And so the descent into dissension began. Makuta Teridax never seemed to change to those around him, but after that heretical night, he was transformed. His faith was lost, only ambition remaining in the writhing darkness that was once a soul.
His actions are legendary; Usurping Misirex, forcing the Great Spirit into an endless sleep, having his plan of inhabitation of the Universe succeeded, briefly becoming the Great Spirit he loathed, and then meeting his death at the hands of the one he thought of as the great, unjust evil, the very thing he became.
And now, as his body lies wasting away, the one known as Teridax continues to influence the anarchist beings, the beings Toa and Turaga tell stories off, describing them as soulless monsters, only with destruction and killing in mind. Teridax continues to be in their thoughts, a dark role model of conquest and power.
The Makuta of Metru-Nui never knew what those small thoughts would cause, never knowing he would becoming a monster of darkness, obsessed with the idea he had, but forgetting the reason for his idea. The descent of Teridax is legendary, but the beginning of the fall, the reason for one to strive for ideals, who can claim knowledge or understanding of that?