A snow swept battle field. Gunshots flying through the air. Countless Matoran being killed by the second. The mangled body of a Toa Nuva, lying in a pool of his own blood.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m a man of both wealth and taste. I have been around for a long, long time. I have stolen many a man’s soul and faith. I have ridden tanks, held general’s rank. I am hated by both friend and enemy, and am deplored by those who do not know me. I am called “Rewayre,” the Devil.

In my vast, expansive life, I have done many things. I am proud of many, shameful of few, and remorseful about all. I am responsible for thousands of innocent deaths. Many a powerful being has fallen at my hands.

Now, I am dying.

I do not fear death. I would welcome death, were it to come in an epic battle, or through sacrifice. But no.

I am lying in the snow, in a pool of my own blood, stuck in the form of the mangled body of a Toa Nuva. What justice is there, that one such as me should die in this appalling way?

Ah, but once again, I am getting ahead of myself.

I will let you pass judgment on me. I will tell you my tale, as I lie dying, from beginning to now, my end.

So please, sit back, and relax. Listen carefully, lest you miss any detail. And please, while you listen try to provide some Sympathy for the Devil.