A quiet sigh escaped him as Mihkoro stood on the observation balcony, his ruby red eyes fixed on the battle below him and a heavy ache weighing in his heart. Every fiber of him wanted to abandon his vigil and help the Hordika, but he refused the urge, knowing that – regardless of how the battle would end – the Makuta would be released, and if he was left unchallenged he would simply rekindle his attempts and continue down the path of destruction. Mihkoro couldn't let that happen, not while he was the only one readily capable of success.

It made him wonder, now that he had time to think about it, just how many times his efforts in the background had been important. As it was, he couldn't come up with a time where he had done something in the proverbial limelight that had been anything remotely near useful. Part of him resented it, hated that – no matter what he'd done – he was forever resigned to be overshadowed by a team of people he had every right to be acknowledged with. His own team had been stolen from him before they even had a chance to make a name for themselves, and now yet another turn in history was deprived of his recognition, all credit for success or failure going to a group of total amateurs.

Mihkoro paused. It was thoughts like those that proved just why he had to stay in the shadows and exercise humility rather than actively seek recognition. It was a bitter and painful truth, but by this point in his life he had – grudgingly – come to accept it. Besides, there had been plenty of times where his assistance from the sidelines had proven to be more than useful to the Toa Metru. After all, little Kopaka from seven years ago would have been slaughtered had he not been mercilessly chased all the way to Vakama's house by Mihkoro. A heartless gesture to utterly terrorize the child? Perhaps, but in the long run it had proven to be far more of a mercy than what otherwise would have happened. In retrospect, Mihkoro technically stopped the Makuta from succeeding before any of Vakama's comrades even knew what was happening.

Furthermore, had he not managed to convince Nidhiki and Krekka to capture Matau instead of Lewa all those years ago, the events of the past would likely have been much different, not to mention Lewa quite possibly would have died. Instead, the boy had been able to make it safely to the Great Temple and reach a crucial part in his destiny.

These two points were only a couple of many steps through the backwaters of history, seeming like little more than sadistic self-amusement at the time, only to evolve into fate-changing occurrences further down the road. Not only that, but the more he thought about it, the happier Mihkoro was about it. Being a background player didn't draw as much unwanted attention as being a celebrated hero, and he still got to feel accomplished and satisfied by his actions' effects. A vague, bittersweet smile formed as Mihkoro's gaze left the battle to instead regard the sealed frame of the Makuta, knowing that it was all thanks to his surrogate father that things had played out the way they had.

"It's funny just how much I actually owe you." He said quietly, his tone laced with wry amusement. "You thought you could weaponize me against the Toa, when in the long run you created your own defeat. Without me, you would have killed Kopaka seven years ago, and Lewa. You very well could have defeated the Toa Metru and not even have to rely on Roodaka to save your miserable existence." Mihkoro's smile grew into a small smirk. "Your own stupidity and determination to ruin Lhikan and Tuyet has left you getting stabbed in the back by your own blackmail material. If that isn't poetic justice, I don't know what is."

Idly, the Shadow Toa meandered around the balcony, casting his mind back on his own childhood, recalling the day he had learned his true heritage and just why he had been stolen from his parents. He could remember his confusion and loss of self worth, his anger at the fact his life had been a total lie, and his vow that someday he would have his revenge against the Makuta for every ounce of the suffering he had put Mihkoro through in the name of a supposed better future for everyone. And now, after so many years, he was finally going to see that desire fulfilled. Finally he would get to put an end to the source of his suffering and lack of a true family. All of his misery would, in a matter of moments, finally be brought to a semblance of justice, or at least bring a good dose of karma to come to pass.

"I can hardly wait for you to wake up, 'father'." Mihkoro virtually sneered. "Because I will finally have the chance to kill you, which is a lot more than the Toa's code would ever let anyone else even try to do. Aren't you glad you decided to turn me into a weapon? Aren't you proud that I grew up to be just as much of a traitor as you? Personally I can't wait to show you how much I've learned..." His expression turned sadistic, almost to the point where it could have reflected the Makuta's black heart itself. "And drive a dagger into your gut while I'm at it."

He could feel the darkness within himself stirring, reacting to his emotions and eager to satisfy the slowly rising bloodlust pulsing through his veins. It had been seven years since Mihkoro had felt this drive, seven years during which he had been certain the desire to kill had all but vanished. Mihkoro had hated the feeling before, hated knowing that some underlying part of him craved the bloodshed and general brutality. A few days ago, Mihkoro would have probably been disgusted – if not horrified – that his old addiction was returning. But now, for this one small moment in his long and overshadowed life, he welcomed the notion, letting it fuel his drive to succeed in the one task that could make his mark on history's pages forever.

The Shadow Toa was drawn from his sinister musings when a red glow caught his eye; the revival had begun. At any moment, Mihkoro would be thrown headlong into a battle for his life. Excitement mounted and swelled within his darkening heart, his pulse quickening with every change in the crystal's steadily brightening glow. Mihkoro cast his hand to the side, summoning his glaive as he watched, wondering for a moment why the seal hadn't broken yet. Who dared delay when so many things were riding on finishing the job? Were the Toa going to be useless again? Did Mihkoro have to finish the job himself?

A sudden scream wrenched Mihkoro from his bitter mood, snapping him from his darkness-driven anger as he ran to stare over the edge of the balcony, eyes wide with horror as he registered the dreadful truth that someone, quite possibly his own brother, had likely died. But surely his brother wasn't the victim. Surely it was a false alarm!

"V-Vakama...?"

The sound of shattering glass barely reached his ears as Mihkoro stared over the balcony's edge, his thoughts all but drowning the terrible truth behind him. Surely Vakama was still alive, he had to be!

It was only when he felt the shadows warping that he realized his mistake. Whirling to face the Makuta, Mihkoro barely had time to dodge as a blast of dark energy was hurled towards him. Throwing himself to the side, the twenty-six year old rolled back to his feet, a veritable sleeve of jet black fire flaring to life over his left arm as his focus narrowed on Teridax. This was it; it was do or die trying. There was no turning back, no calling for help, and no chance for mercy. Two heralds of darkness, and only one survivor.

Mihkoro would have it no other way.

"So this is it." The Shadow Toa said quietly, a grim smile on his face. "In the end of it all, it's down to you and me."

"So it seems." Teridax replied, lazily summoning his staff as he regarded Mihkoro as though he were little more than a rebellious child. "Master against apprentice, father against son. Look around you, Mihkoro; you know how this is going to end. You can't use the darkness I gave you to defeat me, and you have no allies to save you." A cruel smirk creased the tyrant's lips. "Your safest option is to beg for mercy."

Mihkoro snorted a hollow laugh as he adjusted his stance. "Submission is for the weak. I didn't back down before, and I won't back down now." He lunged forward, black flames spreading over his glaive as he lashed out, throwing as much power into the attack as he could muster. Mihkoro fully expected to be blocked, and as such felt no surprise as Teridax brought his own staff up to deflect the attack.

What surprised him was when his own fire peeled back from his weapon's head. A gasp escaped him as the startled Shadow Toa withdrew, eyes wide as he watched the flames in horror. "H-how?!"

Teridax laughed as he held a hand out, drawing the tainted fire from Mihkoro's frame and weapon, watching the terror in his eyes reveal itself. "Don't you get it, boy?" The Makuta sneered, eyes aglow with dark amusement and sadistic pleasure. "The darkness you harbor was never yours to command, and it has slowly permeated every aspect of your elemental power. Have you never wondered why your fire turned black? Why it swallowed more light than it provided? Your power is mine, Mihkoro. It is saturated with my shadow, fueled by your anger and bitterness, and gorged on your fear. Can't you feel it? I control you. I always have."

Mihkoro staggered as rippling pain shot through him, his own elemental power turning against him as he struggled to remain standing. Had he really been that helpless this entire time? Had the bloodlust only left him because Teridax had been sealed away? How was he going to defeat the Makuta when even his own Toa powers were betraying him? Was there even a point in trying to win at all?

"See Mihkoro?" Teridax lazily gloated, watching as the struggling Shadow Toa dropped to one knee, slowly collapsing under the pain he was now forced to endure. "You are helpless, useless on your own, too weak to survive in the real world. You only thrived because you are a parasite."

Mihkoro coughed as he fought to wrestle control back, teeth gritted as he felt his power bleeding away, tearing slowly from him like a scab from an infected and throbbing wound. If he didn't do something fast, he would be utterly powerless, with no means of defending himself!

He then recalled something crucial, something that could be the one glimmer of hope he had left. "You know what?" He growled out. "You're right. This power isn't fully mine... but I know one that is."

It was weak at first, flickering on and off for a moment before flaring bright and red as the barrier formed around him, the outline of his Kanohi Hau glowing brightly around his face. At once the draw on his power ceased, granting him the precious time he needed to get to his feet, determination burning brightly in his eyes as he resumed his battle-ready stance.

Teridax regarded him a moment before laughing. "A second wind from an inherited mask. How cute. But if you are that desperate to be crushed back into submission, I will gladly use this to work my stiffness out. Let us see what seven years has been able to teach you; I hope it won't be a complete disappointment."

Soon the pair were circling, sizing each other up, searching for an exploitable lapse of vigilance. Mihkoro attacked first, darting forward and feinting a leftward strike before lashing out to the right. Sparks showered the floor as his glaive glanced off heavy armor plating, the Makuta having been able to move just enough to avoid a grievous blow at the last possible second. The dance had begun. Blades sung as the two combatants fought, each strike against the other only just a near enough miss to glance off armor or draw slight trickles of blood through small nicks. The crashing din of protosteel against protosteel pierced the air as the battle raged, neither willing or able to step away for fear they be struck down and killed. Too much was at stake; Teridax fought for dominance, Mihkoro for freedom, and both for their very lives.

And then Mihkoro made the mistake that would cost him everything. Spotting a careless opening in Teridax's defense, he darted forward... only to find his attack dodged before he had any time to correct his positioning. The shock of this left him gasping in surprise, followed quickly by a yell of pain as Teridax's blade sunk into his back, nearly hitting his spine as the Shadow Toa fell to the floor, his glaive clattering down beside him. Mihkoro struggled to rise again, arms trembling as he heard the Makuta moving to stand over his virtually prone frame. Even as he tried to muster his strength, he was hoisted into the air by the back of his shirt, his ruby eyes remaining defiant even though he knew he was defeated. His will refused to accept failure, even when his body was too exhausted to keep fighting. It couldn't end like this, could it? Was he really doomed to vanish into history, just a nameless entity with no purpose?

Mihkoro glared feebly as he was turned to stare at his enemy, refusing to show fear in the face of what he was sure would be certain death. "Are you going to kill me?" The twenty-six year old asked, his tone more of a challenge than an inquiry. "Or are you going to gloat first?"

Teridax laughed quietly at this, putting his staff away as he stared, undaunted, into the fallen Toa's eyes. "Kill you?" He mused, his tone sounding all too pleased with the situation to be any vague form of comforting. "I would be destroying a powerful asset if I did that. No. I have a much better, more impacting use for you." A cold and merciless smirk pulled his lips as a sinister gleam that seemed almost to radiate sadism lit his eyes. "You will make your mark on history, Mihkoro... whether you want to or not."

And as the Makuta raised his hand to press against Mihkoro's chest, the Shadow Toa couldn't help but wonder...

Would he have been better off dead?