The Annals of Icarax - Inverted

In the fortress of Destral, in one of the Makuta dwellings, the Makuta named Icarax stepped out of the all-encompassing shadows. The only light in the room illuminated a towering mirror, and as Icarax beheld his reflection, he held a trembling hand to his mask. It was not the Mask of Scavaging that normally adorned his head. No, the mask he had claimed was the one owned by Teridax.

The Kanohi Kraahkan, Mask of Shadows.

It had been a long trek. After learning from Teridax the location of the Mask, he had departed at once, navigating to the far reaches of Metru Nui and the hidden lair of Mangaia. There he found Teridax’s prize. It had been loaned to him with the expectation that he would safeguard it until Teridax was ready to reclaim it. But Icarax had no intention of returning it.

“The Matoran know Makuta died in Mangaia,” Icarax mused. “Would anyone mourn if I made the effect permanent?”

With a hard look into his own eyes, Icarax whirled and began retrieving weapons and armor from his racks. He had a long road ahead of him, and he would have to be ready. Yet one vision persisted in his mind’s eye. The face of Takanuva who, seeing Icarax emerging from the Silver Sea, had feared the return of Makuta Teridax.

Icarax frowned. The opportunity to finish what Teridax could not… The first step as I spread my wings and take flight. A path over the corpses of Toa as I achieve in a year what it took Teridax eleven thousand years to accomplish…

But was it worth the risk of defying Teridax now?

No, Icarax had decided. His instincts told him the time was not yet right. Facing him now, after all, would interfere with his own plan.

So Icarax had left Takanuva, but not before vowing that the Toa would one day feel his wrath. So too would Makuta.

Three can play at the game of Kolhii.