The Slaughterhouse

[Defiance]

The Slaughterhouse​

Bloodshot eyes looked skyward upon the befouled sky, tainted by smoke, and famished from undefiled light. The entire world was ridden of miasmic filth, an unending epidemic that continued to infect the planet to it's core. Raxus Prime, the Circlet of Tion, Nikato's Shining Gem. Up to the horizon to his feet all that could be seen was an ocean of debris, forsaken machinery, and the most dangerous things that could ever be encountered. The innovations of the galaxy at it's lowest, the carnal hideous representation of technology and industrialization, thrived within this repulsive place. A faint sound of a fiery furnace could be heard, and the pungent stench of sulfur and ash stung his nose.

Avlis had visited a multitude of nefarious, accursed worlds but this one was among the worst. It was worse than Korriban, and he could be sure it was just as dangerous as the Shadow World, possibly even more. He had heard fair warnings of this corner of the Imperium but never had he actually found himself on it. A wrecked Imperial ship behind him lay dismantled and irreparable, it's pilot dead. His only escape ravaged by cruel nature and the effects of poor maintenance. His pale, lacerated skin tickled from the heavy atmosphere, and Avlis tried to salvage any sort of communication device from the busted ship but to no avail. All he found was an emergency supply of two days' rations and first aid.

Avlis hopped down from the frayed door onto a pile of rubble. He observed the landscape. Among the mountains of garbage he spotted towers in the distance, with smoke billowing from it's tips. A ship rocketed across the sky littering more faulty droids and waste from other worlds upon the surface. Avlis looked upon it in disgust. He spotted a jet-black lake in a nearby valley. Something about it drew his attention, and he wandered around trashed debris towards it.

As he meandered through the waste, he spotted a rusty droid stumbling towards him, it's circuits sparking and the optical receptors blinking.

"S-ss-" it tried to say, as a circuit popped. "S-stop!"

Avlis ignored it and descended past it, but it turned towards him and insisted he stopped. "Stop!"

"S-sith As-sas-in, Avlis-s Dioddai."

Avlis froze, and spun around. "How do you know my name?"

His receptors blinked on and off and one of his circuits sparked.

"Dio-odai. Enemy inbound. Attack."

"What are you talking about?"

"Attack. Attack." It's voice module malfunctioned as the voice suddenly deepened. "Attack."

"Area host-"

It suddenly lost power and with a great spark it collapsed to join the rubble, it's wiring short-circuited and no doubt beyond any chance of repair. Avlis stood perplexed at the faulty droid, finally recognizing the Imperial symbol on it's head. It gave him a strong sense of foreboding and warning but he shrugged it off and continued towards the lake. It was probably a malfunctioning battle tactician droid that happened to identify him from some datafile.

 

[Galad J. Victus]

Raxus Prime. A planet without life. A junkyard of dead machinary and everything that involves metals and industry, coming from all around the galaxy. Rotten. From inside out. A black smoke was in the air, reducing the vision. The boy forced himself to open his eyes. A welcoming of pain and a metalic smell declared that he was still alive. Was he supposed to be happy? His left arm. And his forehead. He touched his head to see if he was wounded. His hand was wet. A red stain was covering one of his fingers. He had to deal it as soon as possible, even thought it wouldn't cause any permanent or serious damage. But first, he had to free himself. Next, he checked his belt, to discover that the hilt was still hanging. He picked up the medical pack, water, and his pilot jacket from the co-pilot seat, before letting himself out of the ship wreck. His feet landed on a ground of dead metal and ash.

He briefly studied his surrondings. Hills of garbage were visible in all directions, low tunnels where the hills met here and there, and towers of greater height in distance, smoke extending into the sky from their tips. A graveyard. The feel of blood crawling down towards his eyes made him remember what was more pressing. He sat on a dead droid laying amongs the forsaken machinary, quickly finding a bandage in the pack and wrapped it around his head, covering and stopping the bleeding. A red stain spread over the white fabric, but failed to pass it. It had stopped.

Now, he had to climb on of the hills to look for one particular man. Avlis. He opened his mind to the Force, extending his vision and sending waves, hoping that they would encounter a wall of the same material. They did. Avlis Dioddai was alive. Or; there was a Force user somwhere not far. Carefully taking steps and climbing to a hill of garbage, he reached to top after a notable effort and time. The sight was not surprising. Mountains and hills covered much of the metal wasteland. Only in the distance, there was some sign of activity. The towers he noticed earlier, and even a few ships, some leaving the planet as they rise and disappear from sight, some landing on the towers, some on the surface. But there was a valley with some sort of black lake resting in the middle. As it was the only place site that offered difference from the common wastes of this planet, it would be a good idea to start there. After all, the comlink was lost, the imperial ship that brought him here all but useless, he had to look for other means of survival. He didn't know if it was Avlis who he sensed earlier, so he couldn't trust on expecting aid from him at the moment.

He wandered into an underground tunnel which came out from a spot where the two hills met, as the surface was covered with hills of garbage and any kind of danger could be found in it. The planet itself was one big trap, actually, but he would feel safer if the possibily of being watched had been eliminated. He kept a hand touched to the steel hilt hanging in his belt.

 

[Defiance]

The lake, an oddity that one could only hope to explain. Avlis marveled at its darkness, the strange things that could exist in such a thing. It was as the planet, mutilated, twisted, and toxic. He stared at his blackened reflection, unable the pierce the shroud that veiled the secrets within. A certain evil glowed from this treacherous thing, an evil unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was almost intoxicating, akin to the Dark Side, but of a total different greed. There was no anger not hatred, but a strange unknown that heralded but one thing: fear. Fear of that which could not be understood. Avlis felt a palpable danger to himself, a certain hostility, as if the entire planet loathed his presence, and would seek to mutilate and twist him with it. The thoughts themselves began playing with his mind, and the hints of insanity began to swirl around his mind. Fear, oh how it pierced his defenses, it was peculiar. It was natural.

His heartbeat skipped, weakness suddenly erupting in his chest. Avlis bound his stray thoughts with haste, developing an anger for the very experience. This truly was an abdominal planet, if it could even be considered as such. A droid head lay dismantled near him, and Avlis nudged the object with his object. It reluctantly fell into the miasmic pool, and with a violent hiss it sank. Smoke withered from it, escaping the painful demise that chewed through its defenseless scrap, joining its pollutant cousins. Chaos, that was what he felt. Even the Sith withheld slivers of its order and hierarchy, through superiority and power. This place held no order. There was no anger, no respect, no fear. This was pure chaos. Whether Empress or filth, this planet did not concern. It was a cruel game of life, a landscape that designed a terrible death for every being that became entrapped within its clutches. This was a figment of the abyss, where all life was destined to fall.

As if like sheep, waiting to be slaughtered. Resistance only delayed the inevitable. Raxus Prime was a slaughterhouse.

Suddenly, Avlis was no longer in a position for disgust or mocking. This was a test of his fitness, survival only gained through proving his superiority to the grasp of the reaper. He drew his weapon, a polished steel unlike the corroded metals native to the area. A sanguine glow and hiss comforted him, his only companion against the wolves that sought to consume him. A new presence had appeared, to which Avlis prepared to eviscerate.

"Hello." A throaty voice croaked behind him.

"Withdraw your weapon, Sith. I have something that you seek."

The Umbaran turned, bewilderment borne upon his brow. A hooded figure stood haggard before him, the makings of its face conveying a morbid grin, glowing eyes, and slimy complexion. "What do you speak of?"

"To the Tower."

The creature energetically hobbled through the debris, hobbling in the direction of a new thing. A towering object lay ahead, that mocked the destruction that built it. It rose like a mutilated finger above broken life. Haze festered at its feet, not of creation nor ruin, but something in between. Chaos brewed along the terrain that surrounded it, just as it brewed within the sable waters. Avlis looked at it with both amazement and repulsion, for a crawling revelation pleaded that he stay away from such wilderness. Crimson slithered back to its steel prison with a crying fizz, and Avlis followed suit, eager to find a way off this forsaken hell.

 

[Galad J. Victus]

The darkness, undying and ever lasting. There was no end. The tunnels went on and on, occasionally twisting up and down. After a while, Galad was only focused on taking a step in front of the other. There was this voice, in his head. Whispering, crawling and crying. Of fear and despair. It was his own thougths, but as if they were commanded by another. Betraying and causing fear. He started imagining things, dreadful and forsaken, hungry for vengeance, pay out for all they suffered, imposing fear and pain on the living. You abandoned us. You and your kind. They were waiting in the dark reaches and corners of the tunnel, laying in ambush, ever watchful.

The boy unleashead the crimson blade at last, sick of the increasing pressure. He held it against the darkness ahead. The wind carried forth a clank. The crimson blade quickly cut through the air with that familiar hissing, enlightining the way, and the foe who intented to kill. A daemonic being, with eyes as red as the pits of hell, body a stained and dark metal, twisted sharpe stakes all along the dreadful-looking shoulders, hips and chest. The red eyes met the green eyes; a fierce clash of wills. Fear. Although the daemonic thing had demonstrated no ill-will as of yet, Galad knew it from the very first moment. After a seemingly long moment, a longsword was drawn from the killer's back, cutting throught the darkness towards the boy who had to fight. Or die. At this very forsaken grave, he had to fight not to be a part of it.

Galad took a step back, back into the darkness. Two weapons violently clashed as the boy's attention was completely drawn into the duel. The passion was what mattered, as the Sith Code revealed. Passion. He wanted to live. He had to fight with passion. He had to be strong in the mind. He had to be unbreakable, as the power of the blade was actually nothing. The mind, was the finishing blow. If he feared and shattered now, he would be destined to lay amongst the dead and forsaken things of this damned world. Before he could break the lock, however, the killer acted first in an unnatural speed and strength, forcing the crimson blade aside, and pressing the advantage with quick movement and deadly swings. Galad managed to follow up the speed for a while, but then he stumbled and collapsed as it was dark and the place was full of obstacles laying around. The longsword rose in the air, ready to end the boy and his life.

For a moment, all that he felt was fear. A pure fear ran through his mind, forcing him to act, that wild urge which existed in every living being. He unconsciously lifted his hand, as a roar escaped from his lips, channeling the anger and the sudden passion. He had to survive. A purple lightning broke free from the tips of his fingers, the bolts flew through the darkness and met the daemonic thing, a smoke rose from it's body as the lightning's voice echoed in the tunnels. The flame pits died, the sword fell from it's hand, and it's body leaned forward, still standing, but without movement. Galad quickly rose back up, summoning the hilt back to his hand, where it belonged, and parting his foe's head from it's body with a swift blow. He observed the corpse with disgust. It was a droid. An assassin droid of some sort, master at the art of one-on-one dueling and a cold killer which was created only to destroy. And what was that disactivated it? A kind of Force Lightning which worked on the unbiological things? It seemed so. He etched this new knowledge to his mind, as he kicked the metal head further away from the body with a smile in his face.

After making sure it was gone for good, Galad again started walking towards the other end of the tunnel, to how many more hidden dangers who knows.

 

[Defiance]

Malevolent tendrils of untainted virulence crawled from the Tower, consuming the hearts of those unfortunate to near it. No two evils are the same, all immorally desecrated in the name of righteousness and virtue, yet so different and fickle. Evils, unbridled, clash if they are of the same nature. As Avlis walked, he could feel the nature of the Tower as his own, and his mental reasoning told him of the danger. Yet somehow the impulse was left without thought, Avlis was searching for a deeper answer for the mystery that surrounded him upon his imprisonment. Revelation only obtained by venturing through that which is otherwise left untouched. Revelation obtained through chaffing with evils.

The gaunt animal that led him invoked a cautiousness within him. Perhaps it was its allegiance to the Tower, perhaps also that it had somehow survived the burden of that the planet had began, an unspoken curse that had twisted this creature into a thing abdominal and filthy. It reeked of danger, for nameless secrets shrouded its true capabilities. This meant peril for Avlis, for if thus was true, than Raxus Prime was much more toxic than it appeared. This hell, forsaken by the galaxy, was an insult to all that was created. This was where all that was good fell, and all that was evil, too, fell. The excommunicated blasphemers, condemned by fate, all caged in this netherworld, where wickedness thrived.

Avlis approached the gates, enthralled by the workmanship of waste into morbid beauty. Jagged croaks echoed from ahead, shadowed with an alluring command and concealed desire.

"Enter, Sith, to the Tower."

The Sith entered with care, striding down the dark halls filled with gliding fumes and echoed by the wheezes of his hunched guide. Darkness surrounded him, but did not harm his vision, for it was protected by his genetic heritage. Ultraviolet eyesight protected him from surprise, and the secrets it conveyed bewildered him still. Creatures skulked in the shadows, of different shapes and sizes. Maliciousness discharged from their morose forms, and an increasing threat pressed against the Umbaran, an unseen pressure seemingly now on him. His vigilance was now tested, unable to monitor each individual creature and its individual intent.

With every footstep, Avlis ventured deeper into the belly of the beast, motivated by the promises of the core. The hall became steps, and the steps soon became a great nest with a lavish throneroom. Upon the throne ahead sat an alabaster prince of chaos, haunted by the chains of insanity and plagued by his gift. Shock manifested on the Umbaran's brow as recognition set on him, for this thing had an air of familiarity about him. He was a rebus, a treacherous spawn of bedlam and turmoil, fueled only by the Dark Side.

He was known once as the Ashen Sphinx of the Sith, a Lepi of unknowable capability and prophetic charade. Avlis remained fixated on the thing's eyes, a chilling part of the disheveled creature's persona, reddened with the supernatural anguish. This entity was unpredictable, erratic. He had heard things of this Sith. He had the ability of an oracle, and unexplained skill with the dangerous parts of the Dark Side. The workings of his arcane mind were incomprehensible. Once, he had been labelled a name. Aneuryn. Many thought of the thing as simple myth, for the enigmas that swirled around him were indeed dubious.

Aneuryn inclined upon his seat, assorted by the empty corpses of multiple droids. His emaciated face cracked into a savage grin, worsened by the clear pandemonium that bred across his mind and glinted within his flushed eyes.

He spoke slowly, a shrill shriek manifesting from his lungs, passion seemingly flowing from every word that lusted past his broken throat.

"Avlis Dioddai."

 

[Galad J. Victus]

Deeper, into darkness and the unknown. Farther, from safety and sanity. The boy fealt an old friend, lurking in the halls of his mind. A guest, who usually invited himself. The memories and the sight of darkness and terror, was awakening something ancient; the scourge of minds. Galad knew it. A part of him, hated and loved. Something that he thought defeated and cast aside, was coming back for vengeance. Although the danger was at hand, he did not pull himself back. He was ready to face this long dreaded foe, at last. Enslave it, and draw power from it. Something which was of Dark Side origin, but far more treacherous a sword without a hilt, undefeateable, yet unwieldable. Perhaps. As Galad kept walking, with all his heart and mind, he accepted then he was now in it's very realm, the land of madness. Sanity was destined to die here, in this graveyard. And for one such as Galad, the death would be much more quicker.

He had long lost the track of time when he encountered light at very last, coming from a hole in the ceiling. He wasn't that far from the surface, after all. With a jump enchanted with the touch of the Force, he was out of the damned tunnels. The clear air, at least the cleanest Raxus Prime was capable of providing, filled his lungs and he stuided the sight. The common hills of garbage within the waste, the lake much closer and thus greater than before, and one of the towers at a walkable distance, standing in between the other building of great heights, and Galad. After a moment of indecision, he started walking towards the closest building.

"Halt."

The perfectly technical and beautiful voice commanded. The boy quickly turned around to face it, finding a black figure standing before him. A rough copy of the one he faced down at the tunnels, that assassin droid. Galad quickly unleashed his crimson companion, ready to reply any offensive.

"It appears you still draw breathe."

The boy looked upon the twisted being with a mix of disgust and caution. It carried no weapons, and was of distance, enough to end a sudden charge with failure. There, at the wastes of garbage, two figures stared at each other patiently, for a few moments. Then a black hilt appeared in the killer's hand, and a sword came out of it's tip, as the assasin took position to do his job.

"No matter. I shall correct their mistake."

A black ball it picked from it's black hilt, throwing it, the item crossed distance between them, flying. Galad pushed himself aside, heeding the warnings of his screaming senses and rolled down from the hill that he first appeared out of darkness, his back aching in pain and cuts all around his body when he met the low ground. He lifted his head to see a great explosion and metal objects flying towards all directions. A grenade.

Just as he was about to rise, the perfect copies of the voice echoed distantly on all sides, clanks and sounds of drawn swords, there were many more. The boy desperately looked for a way out of the trap before he was seen, and he noticed all the dead droids laying around. Smiling to himself, boy lay back and covered himself with corpses and metal pieces with help from the Force, camouflaging himself. As soon as he was done, the assassins appeared looking for him, closing in distance, coming down from the hills, rising from under the ground, distacted and enraged, they blasted and caused yet more exposions here and there. Galad soon realized that they were drawing close. He was in a narrow space, and he could move nothing but his arms. As it was is only chance, he grabbed his lightsaber hilt, scorching a wide breach under him, while keeping an eye on his followers. The hissing was heard, and a handful of them came rushing towards the spot, equipped with blasters and swords of all kind. Crimson bolt flew towards him, as Galad threw away the weight above him using telekinesis, towards the bolts and the assasins beyond them. It wiped some of them out, but many managed to roll aside and get out of the way. Finally, the boy rose back up to greet his foes, redirecting the bolts towards where they were unleashead. An ironic twist of fates. Something that Force made possible.

For each fallen one, three more rose from their graves and charged upon the boy. Countless red eyes, shining, with a single purpose loaded into each one. Minutes passed, and the ground was covered with the dead assasins. Yet even more were still there, menacing. A sword was unleashed in behind him, a single maniac that managed to cross all the distance and avoid death. Galad knew these were designed for hand-to-hand combat mainly, and they were only blasting to keep him from reaching to Force. Or to imprison. Horrible. He was surronded, and he danced amongst the death and fire, the crimson guardian held back offensives on all fronts.

The boy sended a small yet well-aimed Force wave at the black figure, causing it to fall and surprisingly, shatter the floor as it fell down towards some dark place, probaly the tunnels which Galad came out from. They were too many. Galad rolled and let himself down, as he fell for seconds, and contacted a soft yet solid floor, twisted in a way which would cause him to slide. Some sort of an air tunnel. After a short trip, he ended in a valley, wide and centered by a lake. One he spotted earlier. He rised, and froze. He had forgot about one thing.

A black armour was laying at the ground, carelessy thrown aside. And a girl, standing before it, her eyes fixed at the Sith.

 

[Defiance]

"Aneuryn." Avlis returned, his voice nonchalant and strong. "It is no small occasion to encounter a former Sith prophet. Your slave informs me you have something I want."

The creature growled from his hunched position, but said nothing.

"Or is this a cheap ploy orchestrated by a Sith now lost in the depths of madness?"

The shrill voice renewed once more, piercing through Avlis' eardrums, to which he winced momentarily. It echoed through the chamber, forged solely through cheap masonry of metals and ship remains.

"Sith."

The mad rabbit held up a rusted droid head, with exposed wires coming out of its degraded neck. Aneuryn looked into the blank object, studying it, as if searching for something that could not be found. His crazed eyes flickered as he was seemingly lost in an eternal trance, tormented by the constant revelation of the galaxy. His Glasgow smile had faded, a lost dream of possibility. Avlis almost made to leave, convinced that hysteria had indeed held this seer in its deathly grip. However, he was interrupted—

"A simple concept of fickle meaning."

A pause.

"Sith I was, but Sith I am not."

Suddenly, a rumbling emerged all across the Tower, reverberating no doubt throughout that area of the planet. The quake roared through his monologue, capturing the attention of the Sith and the mad rabbit. A single window rendered the event, a large explosion radiating brilliant light, piercing the haze that pumped into the atmosphere. Aneuryn's eyes immediately widened in shock, and his tone became that of all and foreboding. The rabbit stood up from his throne, an untapped energy aroused within him. His old shaken body now flung itself for survival. The planet had stirred.

"It awakens."

"It hungers for us, Avlis. It—"

Aneuryn stopped, holding up one of his paw-like hands to his head. His eyes were filled with great disorder, lined with red cracks of suffering.

"The boy, the one whom was brought with you. He, too, is hungered for. A threat is looming, we have been brought here by design."

Avlis had forgotten of Galad, having assumed the boy had managed to escape the terrible fate that had befallen him. Indeed, he had found it strange from his very passage. The Umbaran observed the bright detonation with awe, searching for fleeting answers to Aneuryn's crypts. The rabbit was almost both straightforward and vague, and it only invoked a further demonic questioning within him. Dead men tell no tales, that much was simple, and he supposed that it was imperative that for survival he would have to journey deeper to discover the esoteric echoes that he needed to find.

 

[Galad J. Victus]

[COLOR="#CRIMSON"]"B-but how?"[/COLOR]

The girl let a smirk appear in her face. Elegantly closing on Galad, as her hand went to her belt and came back with a black hilt, perfectly matching her black and tight clothes which wrapped her body firmly. Her skin was abnormallly pale, smooth, almost as if it belonged to a non-human creature, and was full of dark tatoos which travelled across her body like a climber. Her eyes were a dark tone of blue, hair as dark as the night. And the aura. A Force user, certainly. That dark energy which could be found all over this damned place, and the familiar feeling.

"I am far too powerful to be a piece of metal... and too peerless."

She unleashed a crimson blade from the dark hilt as the other hand rose, and Galad set his own blade free upon seeing this, as he observed his foe with great care. A huge noise was heard behind him. When he looked back, he saw a large piece of metal being cut off from a ship wreckage as sparks spread furiously and wires of all colors poured out from the tip of the wing and the main part, it slowly came to the edge of the hill, then fell of as it was suddenly released, along with a high, annoying rumble, and closed the entire tunnel entrance, making it impossible to climb back up, adding to the impossibilty of the jumping entire height. Was he supoosed to be afraid? He turned around, facing the girl once more. She raised an eyebrow as the smirk once again took shape in her face. Strange, Galad thought. One wouldn't guess that she was a cold blooded killer, simply looking at her face.

[COLOR="#CRIMSON"]"You digged your own grave. Come, let us begin, I will try to not hurt you much."[/COLOR]

As the girl rushed forward in a sudden speed, Galad was about to reflect the smirk to his face, he commanded his crimson blade to rise and stand before the apporching death, instead. She was fast. But lacking when it came to raw strength unlike Galad, and he would be able to match with her agility with some effort. He threw back the offensive using this critical advantage, and went to lauch his own series of strikes as the game supposedly began to favour him, and the duel progressed towards the other side of the valley, alongside the banks of the river. The clashes of crimson blades were quick and short, girl's hope of claiming victory lay at footwork and elegance, as Galad soon noticed. His, on the other hand, was a thunderbolt, crushing and overwhelming with advantage and strength, just the perfect counter of her style. Realizing this, the girl was also trying to turn the fortune, acrobatic moves and swift strikes from different angles would be her answer.

She jumped over a rock with with an impressive feat, meters above the ground and extended her arms as the palms faced upward, in both ways, intiving Galad to make an attempt. The height was too great even without a lightsaber to cut off his head at the end, thus he decided to do it his way. He touched the Force, manipulating the energy and drawing from it, as the the promises filled his head. Power and immunity, a blessing above all dreams and all passions. Sickened by the Dark Side, enflaming his burning desire for victory, and victory alone. He shook the giant rock violently, grabbing it with the Force from below, and to his surprise, had managed to lift it, the huge figure rising into air. As he was about the shatter it, the ground itself shattered from inside out. It was shaken, a hundred times wilder than what he had just performed to the giant rock, it cracked intimidatingly and filth was unleashead from below the ground, acid and death, in the form of liquid. It rose high into the air, and came down upon the ground, turning anything and everything into ash and corpses. The control slipped from the boy's grasp, and the rock flew and fell, deep into the lake, the girl managed to pull herself to the other side of the rock which was still at surface, and ran along it, careful not to fall down into the lake and keep her balance, when at the tip, she jumped with all her strength towards the valley, hoping that it would be enough. Galad wished for otherwise. He watched, away from the major cracks, he managed to keep himself alive. He wished for her death.


Seconds later, he was saving the girl from the metal piece that was swimming in the lake. It was not the best decision he had ever made.


He pulled her out, a mere moment earlier than what followed. The metal melted, a hissing and rising smokes accompanying and adding to the aura of fear that the lake was surronded with. Corrputed with the Dark Side. No ordinary filth would be capable of such destruction and total annihilation. She was unconscious. Galad looked around, spotting a tower closeby. After holding the hilt for himself, he carried the girl towards the entrance. After a while of exhaustive walking, they arrived at the main entrance. It was... dreadful. Kind of place one could only see in his nightmares, a consume of good will. His heart was heavy and darkened, as his heartbeat gained speed and he started sweating. Being desperate further added to his despair. There was nothing else. The valley was being overran by acid, and ground was still shooking, if not as destructive as before, still feelable. Forcing himself to take a step towards the entrance, he half-heartedly appeared inside. Dropping the girl there at the entree, he studied the darkened realm of evil, regretting that he took that first step inside. There was but one way to go now.

 

[Defiance]

What?

The question hung on Avlis' lips, and began to torture his mind. The unknown and Aneuryn's obvious fear daunted on him, and he began to question what it was that they were fleeing from. Flight, a cursed, regrettable action that Avlis hated with all his might. He would rather stand against this thing, and win. For flight was a weakness harbored by cowards, by bottom-feeding mutation obsessed with undeserving survival. Knowledge instead may keep him at bay, to instead comfort him with an understanding of why he should flee with earnest. A faint but increasing feeling was radiating, a cold and burning hate on the horizon. From the great explosion it had begun to increase, and it was certainly mobile.

"What is this thing we are—"

He stopped, unable to fathom how he could be saying such a thing.

"—that we are fleeing from."

"Vigor is borne within you, Umbaran, but it is not enough. Challenges fast approach you, and more will follow. This one is just the first."

The riddle aggravated him, it invoked more questions within his mind. This being was a cryptic, an unsolvable puzzle of secrets dismantled by the hands of insanity. Comprehension took meditation—nay, clairvoyance, to decipher. Instead of fighting it, seeking to carve a path throughout its equivocation, Avlis resolved to instead pursue the hints that were being given to him.

"Then show me how may I overcome them."

"The time is not yet ripe. Seek first for your apprentice, and search deeper therein."

With that the disheveled creature cackled and faded into the darkness, clanking through scrap metal and then disappearing within the shadows.

 

[Galad J. Victus]

The influence was greater than he had thought. Much greater. With each step taken deeper into this realm of nightmares, the boy found himself full of higher fear. Yet, he did not turn back. There was something... not exactly a thing, but a breeze in his mind perhaps, creeping from one thought to the other, corrupting and binding. Whenever he wished to turn back, it stopped him. Poisoning his desires and emotions and twisting them towards a single purpose; keeping on. And so he did. Dreadful tower was huge, unending and much more consuming than the tunnels, it's aura, darkness and everything, all was higher and different. Even the imaginations, created by his own mind in an act of betrayel, his own attempts to surrond himself to fear and cowardice. The eyes. The darkness. He kept on until they fell upon everything in sight and in mind. Pets, from the pits of hell.

The heart of evil. His thoughts were of things far way, yet his eyes revealed the horrors of the forsaken surrondings. He was lost. The halls, doors, corridors. All mixed into each other to the point where nothing was of importance anymore. He only had to take a step, and then it all would be over. The void ruled supreme. There was no way out, he was merely allowed to go deeper. Almost as if.. the place was constantly on the move. They were all guiding Galad to his own doom, a game played in the darkness. But now, not all were unknown. Something familiar was lurking within. The soft yet poisoning touch of the old foe echoed in the halls, a voiceless cry of danger and unstability. The walls were not of the Tower, but of the boy. The only established defence between the merciless conquerer that is the Darkness, and his own heart. He would wish otherwise, yet there was little to be done to prevent it. The insanity.

To defeat a foe, he had the look upon yet another foe. To defeat the Dark Side, he could only trust the Dark Side. He unleashed it before it was too late, black walls appearing of the thin air and towering all that was alligned to the enemy. He sucked from the foul cup, drawing sanity and will for a great price, yet it was worth it. He did not think. He did not fear. He did not feel.

That door, the Dark Side was strongest there. Knowing that he was now in the mind of true evil, one that no good soul could hope to look upon, he halted before it.

Something was inside, his demise or salvation, he could not tell, yet something was within. He appeared inside.

 

[Defiance]

"Galad." emerged Avlis' apathetic voice. The Umbaran materialized from the shadows, his ally and slave. His pale skin conflicted with the pitch black around it, and flowing crimson hissed to life to join it, warding off the impairment of the boy's vision. His grey eyes pierced the darkness like a translucent veil crutched in its malice. His presence then flared in the boy's vision as he let his aura become known, only to recognize the familiarity of his figure. "Danger wanders this planet, acolyte. Some things are best left unexplored." Avlis turned his head in the direction a more powerful presence that existed, but could be seen. Within, virulence and belligerence threatened them, a mocking figure worthy of consideration. A vein bulged on his exposed, pallid arm as with labor he tried to pinpoint and evaluate it again, but to no avail.

"A threat looms, one that you can sense, I am sure."

His eyebrows knit together, a strange subtle sign of some sort of small confusion.

"I know not of it. A strange chain of events has brought us here, a remedy must be made."

An gurgle noise emanated from somewhere within the tunnel, and Avlis instinctively reverted his lightsaber. He halted, for something was afoot. A creature lurked among the shadows, and the Umbaran searched, ultraviolet vision scanning for it. The gurgling returned, this time coming from elsewhere. Predator hunted beast, both creatures of the night wondering which of the two would emerge victorious from the carnal duel they were locked in. And then it appeared, a beast birthed from great mutation and twisted Force alteration. Dueled of technologic and organic halves, the thing crawled the walls seeking morbid nourishment. It gnashed razor teeth and expelled acid venom in a horrid gurgle. In the very moment it flitted across Avlis' vision, lightning crackled from his fingertips.

The brilliant azure electricity arced across the tunnel, lighting up the two Sith, and hit the abomination, unhooking it from its ceiling. The Force sizzled the beast as the Dark Side fought the life that resided, trapped, inside the creation. The bane shrieked, and lurched against the electricity, resisting the powerful attack sprung from the Sith Master. Crimson leaped to the sapphire, a beam of energy and it sliced through the thing's neck, expelling the enslaved darkness forced to give it life. Glowing circuits sparked in a futile falling out and the atrocity had been slain.

Silence followed, a recovery of sorts from the abrupt attack.

"We have long outlived our welcome."

 

[Galad J. Victus]

The long awaited figure at last entered sight, a known face was revealed by the unleashed crimson blade, which had lifted the cover of darkness between two Sith, allowing the younger one a clear look, at the man who he was seeking, Avlis. The boy's head was quickly redirected, his face meeting the white in the darkness, a pale skin, a color that had been forsaken, a rare gift even, a change from the heart-killing black of the prison. Galad returned the piercing look with that of his own, the bright green, a sign of flaming life and passion, fueled by a will that was solid as the dark of the Tower, determinated to avoid it's will. A will which meant ill, to make all the guests as lifeless as itself, an exact reaction to the color of life, green.
[COLOR="#crimson"]
"Master."[/COLOR]

Now that not all was hostile, the boy would take a closer look into the unseen cages, beyond the walls, beyond the Tower, beyond all that existed. The darkness itself. What power could cause such corruption? What was hidden in this forsaken pit, to influence and enslave this ill-fated place so fiercly? What was there at the heart? Sucking from the darkness, an energy which did not limit his sight, instead, enchanted it. Danger.

As soon as the lightning travelled across the room and touched the beast, Galad's own crimson blade was already unleashed, turned towards the foe, ready to see service. When the creature at last fell dead, the boy looked at the man, his eyes full of curiosity, his mind, twisted, begging for answers.

[COLOR="#crimson"]"This place holdes many secrets, I am sure. I believe there was a reason all along, one that brough us here, planned and watched as we walked the restless halls. I sense this place has it's own will, that makes it much more than a darkly constructed and influenced structure. It is able to change the flow of the Force, make decisions."[/COLOR]

The boy paused for a moment, further diving, taking a closer look, casting aside the empty shell to be able to see what lay beyond. The center of the Tower, evil. There were many yet unseen.

[COLOR="#crimson"]"A hunter. A vermin perhaps, invaded this place, striking deadly poisons from it's twisted body. It failed to erase us for the time being, yet there is more. Shall we strike back?"[/COLOR]

Suprisingly, the boy was full of exciment, despite the emotionless face reflecting that of his master. Foolishly, he was eager to explore further.

 

[Defiance]

"The time is not right," Avlis said blatantly. "We must watch before we engage." The Umbaran walked down the tunnels, a confusion beginning to form. The dark presence was palpable, for certain, and yet he could not pinpoint it's place. It almost melded somewhat with the dark, imposing feel of the planet, masking its alignment. "I encountered a curious figure above, a former Sith prophet once known as Aneuryn. He has a long history of erratic yet potent Force proximity, with talented clairvoyant abilities. Yet he is also known for his apparent insanity, and as a result he is known for extensive and strange disappearances." He paused in his speech as he struggled for a way to describe him. "A 'wild card', as some would say." He navigated through the tunnel into a larger tunnel that expanded, heralding a larger chamber of of more ruin and scraps of long-dead droids.

"He spoke of the threat we now avoid. We—"

Avlis' eye caught sight of a strange thing, a pile of droids of which a strange figure lay sitting atop. Avlis could not sense the Force within it, a strange feeling that invoked caution within. He could feel a peril within it, a guardian that guarded a secret that they must find. They would need to destroy it. The beast opened what would be its eyes, through which only nothing came from his eyes but pure darkness, a true dearth of light. For not even ultraviolet light emanated from it. A roar bellowed from its throat, quaking the entire tunnel and felling the trash that hung to the ceiling. Nay, this was not the creature they so feared, but they had reason to fear it. The distinguishable features upon the thing were savage, and a javelin it held in its grasp, sparkling with electricity.

"Our subtlety has been lost." He spoke softly.

 

[Galad J. Victus]

Galad heard the sound of metal greeting metal, a trap that had been set for them. A gate, that he had not seen before, fell upon the empty passage that led to tunnels which they appeared from, effectively shutting their way back. The boy sensed the darkness growing, the storm gathering. As if the Tower itself was plotting against them, a divine being that watched from above, unavoidable, invincible. The heart-poisoning aura of the chamber seemed to be magnified, a new evil stepping out of the shadows, conquring the offered tribute.

The figure rose from it's throne of fallen beings, it's lifeless eyes studying the two Sith. As it closed on them, enjecting further fear with each foul step, a smile begun to appear on it's twisted face, a sign of victory, or perhaps, hunger.

"Rise from your graves, our time has come. The hour of feast approaches."

An evil tone was at it's voice. With each word, it's joy seemed to grow, and a corrupt laughter escaped from it's consumed lips, echoing throughout the dark halls. As the beast celebrated victory, the throne came to life. The droids, one by one, departed from each other, taking their places besides and behind their cruel master, some unleashing seemingly ancient swords, tainted with darkness, some arming themselves with other sorts of twisted tools, obviously a work of evil that surrounded the structure. Their eyes, pits of hell, forged by the power of ancient darkness, bright red. They were numerous.

As he watched, the boy felt a distant breeze, upon the seasoned wall that was his now darkened heart. His own stained will resisted, and the servants of fear failed to break his spirit.

A crimson blade appeared as an answer to all this, held by hands strong and steadfast.

Both sides paused, waiting for a spark to awaken the grand fire that was now inevitable.