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Elsewhere, the moment Brahe's fingers touched his own mirror, the thin membrane of ice vanished and he found himself face-to-face with his Master. But his Master's image was fleeting. The towering Jedi had a red blade sticking out from between his rib-cage and, with his dying breath, he said, "You were too late. You were... too... late..."
The Jedi Master fell forward and flat onto the ground between Brahe and a new figure. This figure was shrouded in a dark cloak, face hidden within a deep hood. But it held a lightsaber, burning crimson like the blood spilling out of Brahe's Master's corpse. The figure raised its free hand and sprayed tendrils of lightning into the Jedi Master's fallen body; and Brahe would watch in horror as his Master's body was obliterated right before his eyes.
"You must be the 'Brahe' he was bleating about before his death," the hooded figure said in a deep, echoing voice. "Pity. You were too late." The figure twirled his red blade at his side and gave it a flourish. "But don't worry. I'll send you to see him shortly. It's only what you deserve. Your blood is stained with darkness, and I've come to purify you."
The Dark Man raised his blade in a two-handed grip above his head. A posture Brahe would recognize as the figure being poised to strike. He had maybe a few seconds to think of a reaction. Otherwise, he was going to be cut down the middle by the phantom's crimson weapon. @Noctyr