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Life in death... Yes, this one understood the galaxy's one truth. For some time now, this twisted soul had been stalked by shadows. It was enjoyable to say the least. Watching such an individual tear apart his victims, mind and body; having come from such humble beginnings. It had been so long since the Jedi were called home, yet still his features were familiar. Even then they were dark and distinct, though only in passing through the halls.
They both had changed. Now, the one calling himself 'Ledo', had come across an individual he found to show potential in helping him reach his needs. There were no goals, only requirements. The necessity to show them all what truth there was in any belief. The Jedi and their offspring, they all claimed knowledge over the real truth. They were all wrong, too focused on the other. In that lies the real truth. We must all face our darkness.
Though Ledo had witnessed an act of pure hatred at the hands of this middle aged man, he still remained an empty canvas. Splotched with the three main colors, all had yet to be mixed; to create a truly devious and vivid image of darkness, capable of grafting the most intricate mazes of horror upon maleficent architecture of a self destructive genius. Ledo had yet to reveal himself to the man with some sort of eccentricity with puppets. If ever there was a time to approach the man, it had to be now; while his hands were dirty, while the warmth of life fled death's decay before him. This master of puppets would kill many more with the right guidance. In time he could make children out of those most feared across the galaxy. And so, his 'Ledo' would begin as he so often did; with a whisper. Incomprehensible as to barely exist, but to be felt through the darkness within.
They both had changed. Now, the one calling himself 'Ledo', had come across an individual he found to show potential in helping him reach his needs. There were no goals, only requirements. The necessity to show them all what truth there was in any belief. The Jedi and their offspring, they all claimed knowledge over the real truth. They were all wrong, too focused on the other. In that lies the real truth. We must all face our darkness.
Though Ledo had witnessed an act of pure hatred at the hands of this middle aged man, he still remained an empty canvas. Splotched with the three main colors, all had yet to be mixed; to create a truly devious and vivid image of darkness, capable of grafting the most intricate mazes of horror upon maleficent architecture of a self destructive genius. Ledo had yet to reveal himself to the man with some sort of eccentricity with puppets. If ever there was a time to approach the man, it had to be now; while his hands were dirty, while the warmth of life fled death's decay before him. This master of puppets would kill many more with the right guidance. In time he could make children out of those most feared across the galaxy. And so, his 'Ledo' would begin as he so often did; with a whisper. Incomprehensible as to barely exist, but to be felt through the darkness within.
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