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The storm far overheard thundered and cracked with electricity as the aura of the world cracked with the sudden surge of dark side energy emanating from deep below the surface. A grisly purple hue spread over the citadel as the thin veil of death blew open and unleashed specters of a thousand wars of a thousand years upon the empty streets. The invisible guardians given pale form and limited substance as the Maze below channeled the newfound power of the Inmortos’ apprentice and the Lost Sith into the dizzying power conduit of soulfrost. Structures of fearsome authority began to erupt from the world as the darkside power drew from the souls unleashed and the formation of Inmortos’ Sith academy began to take form. One by one the hellspawn reborn souls were ground by the storm into dust, their eternal form contained within the deep blue hues of eternal soul ice that formed dormitories, classrooms, towers and crenellations. And deep below the world, Inmortos laughed as he felt the darkness seek to tug his own soul into the void of his creation. The dark side demanded sacrifice. It was the way of power and when it could no longer draw upon the physical it sought to leech the eternal. Within the Maze, nothing changed. The world remained cold and dark, illuminated only by the faint blue light of the whisps. Yet again, both apprentice and lord had found themselves confronted by the inevitability of the dark side, of eternal damnation, death, and the realms beyond. Their power had been exponentially grown and exploited by the winding conduits of frozen souls that made up the Maze and it’s excess gave way to Inmortos’ master plan. As death’s cold grasp encircled the souls of both ensnared Sith and sought to claim them, they had responded. His apprentice had lashed out, claiming his birthright as a son of the darkness. Clasping a cursed blade in his hand, he was baptized in the cold fury that transcended the raging fires of hate and as the Maze rematerialized about him a great steel door seemed to loom before him as tall and wide as the gates of the great forgotten cities of this world. Fitting his position, even as he came from years of stagnation, Dictum fought and yet gave himself over to the power that Inmortos knew, a power so forsaken by so many Sith. It was death itself, incarnate and omnipotent. And as Dictum gage himself over to his despair and claimed control over the eternal void of destruction, a single invisible door within the forsaken lab came into existence. Beyond it was a unremarkable room within which the transfigured Bernon stood accursed blade in hand, beyond him stood the great weighted doors that led from the Maze and into the frozen hallowed halls of Inmortos’ library of the ages. All that remained to enter was this final test, the great guardian doors, bound not by lock or key, but frozen shut by the grasp of eternity itself. To enter in the lord and apprentice would be forced to pool their newfound power, a strength of will equal to that of the undead keeper of the crypt that lay beyond.

Feeling the walls, floor, and ceiling dissipate into the void of endless nothingness, Bernon Mrrgwharr was caught off guard. He had not suspected such a thing, and had no idea how to counter it. The feeling was horrid, unnatural, no feelings were here, he couldn't even feel the blade that was in his hands. He tumbled around, and knew that this void had no escape. He could not take the feeling, he would not become a damned soul thrashing in the void in pain for all eternity! He had nothing left to do now, as his inner monsters, the demons of his past crept in. The brutal training he faced that shaped him into the uncaring, Lawful Evil, monster that he was. He was trained to be merciless, brutal, and disciplined. If only his parents had known what daily physical pain he faced there he might not have been sent. While he was grateful for being turned into the man he is today, he hated those who trained him, they were abusive and cruel, and they had turned him into the same exact thing. He was kicked around by even the other students, treated as if he was worthless junk, and nothing but a nuisance. Only his instructors were worse, it seemed as if he was beaten almost daily. He had to become like them, and only through his strength did he force those students around him to treat him like he was something more than a slave, like he was the master. He could never make his masters, the instructors, however, feel like they were his underlings, and he was always abused by them, as long as he lived around them, he was in danger. He had been shackled, as a slave, metaphorically. Those were his chains, just like the chains the Alliance had given him, and he would never have a chance to break those chains as a true Master of the Sith, because he was condemned to die in the void! His mind could not take this fact, and it began to tear at him. Negative thoughts crept into every corner of his mind. Most prominently the idea that he had been tricked, this Maze was no test, it was a trap. His irrational and insane thoughts went all throughout his mind, breaking it as it had nearly been broken not too long ago. His mental pain was horrid, and so was his physical discomfort. Here, while there was no pain, he could feel nothing, nothing at all. It was like all life, all existence, had been sucked out of this place, even the concept of time seemed to have no meaning here. As a last ditch attempt to save himself from this abomination of an existence, he lashed out with the Dark Side. He drew upon all the mental anguish he had ever felt, the horrid treatment at the Academy, the hate he had for the shackles in his life, and all other passions in his reserve. As he drew upon these, he brought upon the void the most power he could give. He brought out all his pain, his hatred, his anger, and his fear, and as he screamed and released it into the void, it fell apart. The void was gone, and he found himself, with a broken mind, crumpled on the ground. He rose, shakily, to his feet, he was back in the Maze, and he could feel again. He now truly grasped the Dark Side of the Force, in all its power, its glory, and its horrifying nature. He rose, rested for a few minutes, regathered his strength, both mentally, emotionally, and physically, and began to move once more. He prepared himself for another encounter as he walked. He also realized that his thoughts on this place being a trap instead of a test were incredibly irrational, if it were simply a trap, he wouldn't have made it this far. He continued traveling down the pathway in the maze, and held the Limnal Blade out before him, marveling at the weapon he was gifted with, and at the same time, staying cautious for another attack. As he had given himself more to the Dark Side, he began his slow transition to the possible future of his looks that he saw, as the vision had some merit, in that he would one day look like the man that was before him in the vision. His veins had begun to become darker, and his skin was a bit more pale, though he had not lost any hair just yet.

To truly understand what it was like to see as Dictum did, a being capable to sight would fall first into madness within an eternal darkness, stumbling and fidgeting around blindly before their exterior senses would bond and become an interior sense of sight. Sound, smell, taste, and feel would become amplified by the eternal darkness in which would have originally hindered their ability to perceive. The outside world where even the slightest light shown one's surroundings would become images within the darkness, the brain processing it by memory of a memory that was never held. And yet even then, it was but a mere grasp at the edges. For in the darkened abyss of the mind, one could be lost forever. That was the first to be overcome. Then you must personify the Force as one's eyes. For in the darkness of the mind, senses only paint an immediate picture. There is no depth nor shading. It simply is what you believe it to be. But in the Force, false beliefs are torn asunder and truth is bound by decree, and in that very aspect, depth and reality must be understood. For all Miralukians, this is a divine truth, and what is revealed by the mind's eye is simply what is. There is no description. There is no explanation. It is simply existence within the voided and darkened abyss of the mind. It is truth. And while truth can be manipulated just as sight, it is more complex. You have to bend reality in its existence rather than the mind. A lesson learnt from this unholy encounter. Lifting his gaze upon the door that appeared, Dictum sighed a breath of relief as he released the Force from his bindings and stepped forward into the next room. As he did, the fire that once lit the room where he stood smoldered away and the room returned to as it was, untouched and unfettered. His gaze shifted first from @Bernon Mrrgwharr to the steeled door and then back to the Apprentice as he gave a respecting nod at the man's own survival before canvassing the room which he had stepped into. Unlike the room prior, this room held an aura of eternity, a existence that even Dictum held a hard time conceiving. Visually, within his mind's eye, it was as any other room. But in presence, it felt stretched for miles in every direction with no end to attain. And to gaze upon the doors themselves was blanketed by a veil. To Dictum, it was nearly unfathomable and disorienting, causing Dictum to feel almost as if he could not quite grasp at its reality, at its truth. And for a being who saw through the Force, it was a blinding experience unlike any other. A blinding of the Darkness where reality and fiction blurred into a canvas of deafening blackness. Stepping forward once more, he placed a weary hand upon the steeled door, trying to discern what it was he was witnessing. "You will need to be my eyes upon this one, Apprentice." Dictum spoke, accepting the fact that he was weakened by his own misunderstanding. "I cannot grasp this reality nor it's truth. It's magic is beyond my comprehension." Eternity wasn't a concept that could be seen by any Miralukian even if they understood the concept behind it. For eternity was visually unattainable, it's concept a thing of words and not sight. To truly see eternity would mean the end. For eternity was everything and nothing, time and space, beginning and end, alpha and omega, yin and yang, light and dark. So many concepts to explain a singular abstract that could not be perceived. It could never be seen, not even by the likes of Dictum's kin. Any yet, Dictum could glimmer a small canvas of it as he attempted to comprehend, a sudden understanding of its reality. For eternity has always been and will always be. It was primordial in nature, basked in nothing, an endless loop of infinite. It was deeper than the abyss it was confined within. It was darkness. And as his gaze studied it's truth deeper, it fractured. Not the concept, but the visual truth of eternity. It was chaos, madness, and blindness. It was neither good nor evil. It simply was and wasn't. And in the moment of comprehension, it was nothing. For in that moment, Dictum comprehended absolute nothingness. Like wind blowing upon an existence of sand, it fluttered away into nothingness. Complete and utterly blindness with no sense of reality and a complete understanding of existence. For existence was a moment of time, and yet, for eternity, time was irrelevant and held no meaning. It simple did not exist for eternity and therefore nothing within it existed. It was death, or the concept of death, for everything. A smirked adorned Dictum's face as the revelation came to his truth. Dictum reeled backwards in absolute pain, his mind threatening to be torn apart as blood dripped from his veiled eyelets and he grasped at the sides of his head. It was almost too much to bare. Almost too much for his mind to comprehend. And for a brief second, his body mimicked the reality of what he witnessed within the frozen doors of eternity. As he stepped back in his reeling, his very existence seemed to tear asunder, his form splitting in every direction as he flickered in and out of his reality, almost as if his convergence of existence threatened to flicker into separate existences. And yet, bound by his one true existence, he managed to remain whole and sane as he shut his mind's eye closed. "Open your mind to me, Bernon of Inmortos. I think I know how we will open these doors." He spoke as he regained himself, disheartening breaths threatening to consume and smother his existence as he gasped for air. "But I mind you. It will be painful for us both, you moreso than I. " There was only one path to break the reality of eternity, and that was the reality of time. It would take everything they both possessed and be pushed past for it to work, but Bernon would have to be it's focal point. It would require Dictum's growth of its understanding and his power over the mind with Bernon's existence to bind these doors to the reality of time and make them finite. Then and only then, could these doors know its own existence and know its purpose. It was the only way. Standing up, Dictum gazed at Bernon. Could this Apprentice withstand the reality of what would transpire? Or would he perish to the finite of infinity? "Do you dare defy the chains that bind you? ((1))