Destiny

[The Eternal (?)]

Valentine walked for what felt like hours but he lost the passage of time a while ago. The sun would rise and fall and it didn't matter or was worth a care, continuing on his path straight as his gaze couldn't leave from that direction still. He had walked through ravines, valleys, and other natural formations but his path never changed. Even the life on Korriban had left him be through his travel. When he had first started a pack of Tu'kata had decided to track him throughout one of the days, following him atop of hills and safe distances. When the creatures finally drew enough courage and closed in on him they instantly retreated, almost submissively, like they could smell the vile poison that flowed through his veins but also what it stood for. Nothing stood in his path, they wouldn't dare risk it.

Valentine was practically mute the entire trip, feeling the darkness inside him start to spread further and further throughout his body, slowly corrupting whatever it touched. He lifted his hand to his gaze, seeing that now all of his fingers were black to the knuckle and the veins more pronounced along his arm. It was like the mask was already leaching off of him, consuming his life-force as he was already a better prize then what it was already using for a substitute. As Valentine reached closer to the tomb it was now the Pure-Bloods that stalked him, their yellow eyes reflecting in the shadows as they peered from their caves in curiosity. Humans were rarely spotted this deep in the desert, everyone on Korriban knew this was where the savage Pure-Bloods made their home. Just like the Tu'kata, they could sense the vile and inhuman presence that radiated from him and when they saw his black fingers it was instantly clear what this was for. This was a tradition they have seen for thousands of years and they knew the repercussions when they tried to interfere.

It was night time when Valentine finally reached the tomb, the pull almost unbearably strong as he felt this urge throughout his whole body to enter it. It was almost enough to kill and he had to breathe to control himself. The tomb's doors were massive but hidden well in the rock wall and it surprised Valentine, there were no statues, no fixtures, nothing. It was as if it was made to keep something locked in and hidden, more of a vault than a tomb. The Dark Side flowed from it like nothing Valentine had experienced before as if it was its own nexus in itself, the heart of corruption and where it was birthed. Valentine now glanced down at his hand, now seeing it fully darken up to his wrist as if it decayed. The voices were talking louder but he couldn't decipher what they were saying, unfocusing every time he tried to hone in on them. Valentine held his head with his other, it causing his head to ache like something was slamming it with an icepick. He didn't know what to do and he spoke for the first time in a long time, his voice raspy and barely audible, "What... now?"

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The darkness would expand from his fingers, to his hand, and out towards his wrist. His hand had turned jet black, appearing rotten and as if it were coated in the black tar he had been drowning in earlier. He had eyes on him - golden eyes of Sith that felt a pulse in the Force that hadn’t been felt in many years. They wouldn’t disrupt it, but they could feel it come alive. It was in the air, and they could smell it. It was a dominating force, and it roused children from their sleep. It halted whatever they had been doing for the evening. There was a shift in the Force, and there was anticipation in the air.

It had been known that the mask was here somewhere, but no one had been brave enough to come this far and walk away. Plenty had tried, and they had failed. Several had gone in, never to return again. This was a test that would push a being beyond their limits, and they would have to be a host that could house countless souls. They were broken souls, tainted souls, evil souls. But there was one thing they all had in common - they were all powerful. They would all force themselves on his mind, and they would all fight for control. He would need to have the mental fortitude to come out of it without dying.

“Touch…” Was all that came into his mind, a woman’s voice that time. He would know just where to place his black hand. It was an unmarked spot on the doors, but he would know where to touch. As soon as the black hand touched the surface, it was as if the tar flowed from his hand. Rivulets of black streaked out from his hand and out into the surface of the doors. The jet black lines snaked up all the way and to the sides.

The doors groaned and creaked in protest before finally shifting apart. Dust kicked up from between the doors, the musty scent of a vault shut for many years hitting him. There was a chill inside that would crawl across his skin right away, and it would be icy claws tugging him close for a fatal embrace.

“Find...us..” The voices pleaded again, the whispers louder now and echoing within his mind. Ahead of him was a narrow path, but the place was enshrouded in darkness. If he stepped forth into the chambers, the doors would slowly close behind him.

 

[The Eternal (?)]

Valentine could feel the others around him but they paid no heed to him except for their genuine interest to see if this was real. Instead of a myriad of voices, it was now a singular one, a woman's again as she told him to touch the door. Not needing any further answers, he put his black hand forward against the massive doors on a certain spot that seemed to just demand his attention. Within seconds it reacted, the ooze stemming from his hand and forming a web along the door, filling in the cracks until it created an image. It looked like a hieroglyph of a right hand, the fingers reaching the very top of the doors while the wrist formed along the bottom. Valentine could only stare at the sight before the door finally split open, it rumbling loudly and painfully as it was the first time it's been opened in hundreds of years.

Valentine covered his mouth and nose as the doors opened, a gust of what smelled like decay and death coming out and hitting him directly as his clothes billowed in the air. He checked behind him and he realized that the Sith had left him, their eyes now simply gone as they retreated back to their caves. They have witnessed all that they could, they wouldn't dare step foot inside the tomb after him. There was just a wall of black once the doors opened, nothing penetrating through it to allow him to see what was on the other side. Whatever was inside he had no idea but Valentine had already made this far and sacrificed everything to get here, it wasn't time to turn back now. Stepping forward and past the doors, they started to rumble once more before shutting behind him and cutting him off from the inside world. It was just him inside the home of one of the most dangerous things that the galaxy had ever seen.

When the doors shut Valentine couldn't see anything or even hear anything, the only sound being his heavy breathing. The cold was even worse in the tomb, the Jedi now wrapping his arms around his body as he couldn't stop his uncontrollable shivering. The voices didn't say anything else when he stepped inside, just to find them and giving him nothing else. Valentine glanced down before reaching for his waist and pulling his lightsaber out, flicking the purple blade on for light. It illuminated the space he was in and Valentine was surprised again; just like the outside there was nothing in there, it just a tunnel that seemed to go further down into the earth and split into different directions. There was nothing grand about it, just jagged rocks that jutted out of the walls and chilled stale air. But as he inspected the walls more he saw that the veins from the door continued, forming more spider-like webs on them but they seemed to pulsate, seeming to act as actual veins now. They all led deeper into the tomb and Valentine suspected they were leading right to the mask. Summoning his energy for this once more, he continued onward, attempting to keep his warmth contained in his body as he went deeper.

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The tomb had an icy chill, and he would be able to see the fog of his breath in the glow of his saber. There were no markings on the walls outside of the black veins that came from Val’s interaction with the door, no paintings to signify that this was the tomb of one of the most powerful entities to ever walk the galaxy. It was a collective persona that belonged here. It was no single person, and no single body rested here. The entire tomb was built as an honoring to the Eternal - a haunting force that was timeless and transcended the age of early Emperors and Empresses.

The black veins continued down a particular hallway, and he would feel compelled to walk in that direction. It was a tug in the Force. He was poisoned, and the antidote was this way and he had no choice but to follow. As he kept walking, he would keep hearing the voices in his mind. He would hear the struggles that others before him had. He would hear the voice of Empress Triana, who wore the mask when she struck the deathly blow to Siris the II’s wife in a fit of jealousy. He would get an abrupt flash of the memory, see the fear in the woman’s eyes as she clutched her pregnant belly and begged for her life.

The memories would abruptly snap to a much earlier time and he would be looking into the eyes of the first Sith Empress herself - Alais Drast. She was peering up at him, raising a hand to touch his cheek and asking him to stay with the family. His head would explode with voices that reminded him of how weak he was - how he was going to be nothing but her plaything - as he looked into those yellow eyes that seemed suddenly so familiar.

He would suddenly snap to a woman that gazed up at him - Vex from the histories of old - who begged to keep some of her bonds. There was a swift denial, and she too broke in the end before taking the path. Val would be hit with the vivid memories of those that wore the mask in various stages of history. He would feel as if he were them - and he would feel every connection they felt and every little glimpse of life they were. They were slowly becoming a part of him, forming a symbiotic relationship with him the deeper into the tomb he went.

“Who...are you…” The voices whispered as he arrived towards the end of a tunnel where he would find a large stone casket. The black veins all streaked through the floor and began to climb up this casket, “Who...are you...to think you are worthy?” The voices half spoke, half laughed. This was all while he was plagued and assaulted by memories, pain and every writhing and awful mental wound that those before him suffered.

 

[The Eternal (?)]

The pull was much stronger, almost every fiber in his body craving whatever it was leading him too. The black veins along Valentine's body were starting to become worse, now extending to his throat and past his collar. They were now visible on his face as well, a couple of them leading to his eyes as they have begun the transformation of becoming a sort of crimson. It was the signature of the mask and it was leaving its imprint on him. Valentine continued through the tunnel the voices came back in full force, making him grab his head with his black hand as he tried to just settle his mind. Suddenly a memory flashed across his vision and it made Valentine fall to his knees, seeing the mask exploit its host jealousy before striking out the wife of the famous Siris the Second. The despair, the fear that the wife felt from the terror of the mask was tangible, Valentine couldn't breathe because of it but then it was replaced with something else. It was satisfaction, satisfaction, and anticipation from the mask specifically that something was cowering in front of it.

Valentine vomited up another stream of black ooze from his body, wheezing as it burned his throat and made it hard to swallow. But he just shook his head and got back to his feet, needing a few seconds before beginning to walk again as he could only stare at the ground. Another memory came back and it made Valentine completely fall to the ground once more, seeing the famous Andraste now trying to convince the man under the mask to give it up and return to his family. These were the Empire's deepest secrets and all of them were let out bare in front of Valentine, showing to him just how involved the creature was in the construction of it. As he tried to get back onto his knees he was suddenly flooded with the emotions the mask felt when it was rejected for the first time, uncontrollable rage and hatred that Valentine had never experienced before. It made his whole body feel like it was on fire and it was showing him that it wouldn't tolerate such rejection ever again.

Then it was another woman, her name flashing in red in his eyes as he was now given unbearable pain. It was the pain if one couldn't handle the mask, the mind collapsing in on itself in ways someone couldn't comprehend. It would be a fate worse then death and Valentine wouldn't let the same thing happen to him. As he lifted his gaze from the floor he could see the coffin, it appearing so inviting as it seemed like the only thing that could block the pain from overtaking him. The closer and closer he got to the coffin it only made everything worse but it was also his salvation. As Valentine reached for a rock and supported himself to his feet, more visions and flashes of previous lords that held the mantle appeared, each flooding him a new emotion that could decapitate if he let it. Valentine raised his lightsaber once more before pushing off the rock, giving him the extra boost he needed to get his feet moving as he got closer and closer to the coffin.

They asked who he was as he kept closing the distance, their voices stronger but alluring for some reason. By the time Valentine reached stepped up the casket, it was nothing special but a stone box; seeming more of confinement than a casket for worship. He put his hand on the lid of the casket before answering in a wheeze, "Valentine..." That's all he needed to say; he knew the mask had already explored every crevice of his mind and seen what he had accomplished. With a push and a groan, the lid of the casket started to move inch by inch before he completely pushed it off and revealed what was inside. Valentine gazed inside and had a look of disgust in his face. The mask was there and the instant he saw the intensity of the voices ramped tenfold but that wasn't the reason.

There was already someone inside the casket, the mask already worn by him but clearly a failed host. The man was emancipated practically to the bone, the mask acting as a leech to just survive as it had been locked inside for hundreds of years. The black tentacles that traveled along the walls and to the coffin arrived here, embedded into the man's body in certain parts as they drained the carcass of whatever scraps of force it had resided in it. Whoever was inside was clearly lured here just to act as a vessel to feed from, showing how far the mask had fallen just to survive.

 

[The Gatekeeper]

Bones littered the inside of the casket, even below the last host he saw. The bedding of the coffin was a disgusting mesh of bones joined together from the past hosts. The mask had no qualms with destroying and consuming those it found unworthy, and Valentine would see just what he was standing up against. The mask pulsated with life, and it would make him feel as if he were deep in the ocean in depths that threatened to make his chest explode.

There was no air to breathe, and the atmosphere was frigid. The base of the casket flashed away to become a throne room. Then it became the palace on Serenno, then it became the throne on Korriban. Valentine was suddenly aboard the first Star Destroyer ever built overseeing the bombardment of a planet. He was then abruptly in a council chamber gazing upon Empress Andraste. He was then standing tall gazing upon a group of his sworn followers that bowed before him. They wore dark hoods and they were faceless, but they would carry out death in his name across the galaxy.

“Who are you?” The whispers chanted in his mind. The hooded figures slowly rose to stand and stepped aside to reveal a figure behind them. Standing there was Valentine Rayth, and he stood as a proud Jedi. He gazed directly ahead and scowled, “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice stern. He was there and in the flesh, a look of disgust in his face. The hooded figures encircled him, but they did not act, though they were all armed with blades.

“Why are you doing this?” Valentine asked again, that same defiance in his voice as always.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t listen to it!” Valentine shouted, his eyes staring directly ahead, meeting the gaze.

 

[The Eternal (?)]

Valentine dropped his lightsaber on the ground, now having both of his hands resting on casket just to support himself so that he can stand. There was evidence right in front of him on what would happen if he failed. There was no happy ending if he failed, nobody to help him out if it didn't work. He would just be trapped in this stone box and reside to the inglorious fate of being some creature's dinner. Now that he was so close he could feel its presence, an untold amount of evil that the galaxy had ever seen residing in one single thing. Before he knew it the environment changed again, switching between different throne rooms on different planets and showing all of what was possible if he managed to make it through this. The mask had the power to be a kingmaker and the influence it possessed was evident.

The thrones then changed into a star destroyer, watching the beginning the steps of the Empire as the mask watched it eviscerate whole civilizations and not having a care. It had caused untold destruction and Valentine was just getting a glimpsed of how it was involved in it. Then it went to the council room, showing the empress once more as she was the first to unleash the Eternal upon the galaxy openly, the first to remove the chains and opening Pandora's box when nobody had the slightest possibility to control it. Instead of an empress it then became what appeared like worshippers of the mask, their faces shrouded in darkness. They began whispering the same question as before, asking who he was and it made Valentine put his hands over his ears, it splitting his mind apart as he could feel different parts of him start to battle.

That's when he heard a new voice, one that he could instantly recognize but not look at the owner who held it. Valentine just stared at the casket as his counterpart continued to question, asking why he would go down this wretched path that could only spell death. Valentine could already feel the own man's disappointment, true disappointment that was enough to break someone. The hooded figures continued to ask the question, repeating "Who are you?" While the copy of him questioned him as well, making Valentine's mouth set into a hard line as he tried to keep his calm. He had done everything he could before this, he had revealed the Jedi, he had acted out in what he believed in but every time he did something he was questioned, his loyalty, his purpose. Whenever there was a victory they had went back two steps and undid everything they did. Everyone had left him, his people were nothing, there were no other avenues to turn to, this was it. This was the only thing where he wouldn't be stopped, where he wouldn't need anyone else but himself.

The hooded figures asked the question once more as the copy of himself stared at him in shock but this time Valentine knew his answer. He slowly lifted his head and raised his gaze to meet his own gaze staring back at him, sadness and hurt filling the other's eyes. But now there was a difference between them, the copy's eyes were hazel but now Valentine's were crimson, the mask now fully enlisting its control on the Jedi. It was the only answer he could give and one that he finally understood. "The Eternal." With newfound strength, Valentine dropped his gaze to the body in the casket and reached his hand forward before pulling the man out of the casket and removing the mask. He cast one more glance at the Valentine that stood amongst the hooded figures, offering a silent goodbye to the man he once was, the one that was blinded by his conviction to do right when the galaxy wasn't that simple. The man was too naive and hadn't experienced the real realities that the galaxy gave someone. Valentine wouldn't make the same mistake once more and he got into the casket himself, laying amongst the bones of the previous that had failed before him.

The Valentine that stood amongst the figures just shook his head, knowing that he had failed himself in every way possible. There was nothing left to say as it was pointless now. He tried to step forward as one last ditch effort but one of the hooded figures just grabbed the man's shoulder, stopping him in his place before shoving a blade right through his spine and having it erupt out of his chest. His mouth opened slightly as blood started to pour from his mouth, the last remnant of the Jedi once known to bring hope destroyed.

The real Valentine laid in the coffin, the black tentacles starting to slowly slither over different parts of his body as they accepted the offering. Without a second thought, he slowly slipped the mask on, it fitting his face perfectly like it was made just for him. It took only a second before the mask's hooks sank into his mind, beginning the fusion of the two. It would not be pleasant, practically splitting every molecule of what made Valentine him and rebuilding it from the ground up. The only sound in the tomb that could be heard was the screams of the Jedi, screams that were the sound of true horror and agony.

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The Valentine within him fell to his knees. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open in shock as blood poured from it. He was betrayed. He was abandoned. He was forgotten. The identity that was Valentine Rayth quickly began to shred away, just as the tapestry of his memories had burned. Valentine would be a name forgotten and cast aside. Valentine Rayth would die tonight. He would die and he would be buried forever here.

The screams echoed out, but no one would hear it outside of these chambers. The mask took a hold of the physical man in the tomb, piercing into his mind and shredding through it. He was being torn apart to be painfully put together again. All of the voices echoed into his mind at once, all of their memories became his. He was no longer the single entity he had once been. All his teachings, all his history, all his attachments, all of those were relinquished to the voices inside his head. They became part of the whispers, and he would be another voice to add to the chorus.

The man in the casket was trapped there, the black tendrils coiling around his throat and his body. His veins would come to surface and bulge, he would feel sweat lining his body, and his eyes would become blood red. The agony and pain would be extreme. The lid of the casket slowly began to shift and close atop him, blocking out any faint trace of light that came from when he had ignited his saber earlier.

With a soft groan the lid locked into place, drowning out the screaming inside. This had been the furthest anyone before him had gotten. This was all the amount of torment those before him could handle. The mask showed no mercy.