Exodus

( OOC: No problem Tarrian. Welcome back. ) ”¦ All the while, Exodus remained hushed. It was abnormal how one of such a faction could retain such a tranquil stasis and exemplify equivalent or even auxiliary quantities of sheer darkness. Exodus stood in place, staring off into the darkness without really bearing in mind. Absentmindedly he rolled a large, cultured sword back and forth over his fingers and palm, the motions coming more from idle habit than any conscious intention. It caught in the faint light of the hallway, veins of silver and blue flashing across the crystalline angles of its interior. Lowering himself, his fingers slipped across the smooth surface and the sword rolled from his grip, bouncing once on the hard-wearing flooring of the academy before rattling to a stop. Hearing it fall, Exodus dropped his gaze to the weapon, though he made no move to retrieve it. It was beautiful and yet at the same time atrocious; the material form of a sword that desired nothing more than destruction. Weapons were used as tools to amplify the insanity that brings on the conflict of war; this spirit blew it all out of proportion. Emotion; black, seething hatred had flowed through his brain as blood flowed through his veins. The need to slake it had been like a drill boring into his spine; had not Taim strain from being uncouth and vulgar he would have reversed the change right away. But he had rode the impulses, mastered them in the loosest sense of the word. The power it provided had been his saving grace. The thought of destroying and ridding the undisciplined Taim from existence had occurred to him more than once since then. Insolence was an abomination; a blight to the world. This was one of his triggers, one that should be held with carefulness. He leaned back against the side of the building, feeling the rough material of the metal through his shirt. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his fingers, reaching out to the infuriated Dominique; ”œDom”¦ Trust me”¦”

Tossing aside the innocuous student, Exodus carved a rather inquisitive expression upon his face. At this point, he couldn't decide whether to punish or to embrace his rather discourteous apprentice. The difference in the matter was her alluring smile, the way she presented her striking figure. Choosing to disregard her provocative question altogether, Exodus allowed his emotions to bury themselves once more, veiling them in a confusion of tranquility. Allowing his mind to sink into her own; gradually, discreetly, and with proficiency he invoked the past happenings and occurrences during his time spent away from here. Something definitely changed about her, something he would allow her to explain to him without him intruding in her development. ”œAll goes well, my apprentice?”

Exodus stormed through the halls of the tiny ship, fuming to the core. He just could not believe how everything turned out. The order was scrambled, his aid was limited to someone as simple as an arbitrary assassin, and their reinforcements failed to impact their objectives at all. It all fell to failure, and the price was despicable. To Exodus, all this appeared to be so plain, so simple to comprehend. His brethren had failed, and the lack of collaboration was the hindrance. His being detained and imprisoned did not help the fact either. Abruptly, he stopped his pacing and slammed his fists onto the wall, pounding on them continuously. His anger was just all bottled up within him, with no way to escape. He wondered how he could ever go on with no one in his life, with no one there by his side. All his life he had had a mentor there to show him the way, but now he was alone, which, at first, excited him, gave him more power. But now”¦ now he just felt alone, empty inside ”“ blaming failure on the necessity of guidance. It slightly surprised him that he could feel so hollow inside after he had gotten what he wanted. Continuing to strike the wall multiple times with his fists, Exodus needed to get out his frustration with everything. He continued to hit the wall until his knuckles bled. Slowly raising his hand, he looked it over with satisfaction and revulsion. At least he could still feel... perhaps he wasn't an empty shell after all. -- As he watched the ship land he felt his heart jump. ”œFinally home.”

Exodus would bow his head slightly in favor of the arrival of Darth Mortis Diabolus. Returning his attention to the words of both John and Tethyn, he beckoned to suppress his laughter. Leaning in on one foot and bringing his cynical glare towards Tethyn, his tone would alter into a vaporous whisper; ”œTethyn. The ”˜plague' I speak of, it is hidden to most if not all eyes. Do not question it, just be weary on the battlefield ”“ There are things that cannot be explained out there.”

Relief. If that's what it would be called for observing another well respected comrade, one he knew, approach with the same defiance that he last held, but with an even greater gush of force intensity. A simple nod and a returned handshake were delivered to both, and then too Tethyn. It was unbelievable, consuming the vast reserves of darkness that swelled off of his companions, only to further fuel his own vicious ambitions. Apprentices, Lords, Masters, gathered on the edge of battle, ready to engage at will. Exodus would be sure to promote the fastening of his customary protective covering, strapping the shell of armor onto his hardened chest. Almost, if but for a moment, ignoring the words spoken from the gracious man. Then, as if staring straight into the eyes of a mastermind and witnessing the future to come, he cracked a slight smile. This ”˜Tethyn' had an aura about him; he could become a definitive Sith given the time, especially under the training of one such as John. ”œIt's a pleasure, Tethyn.”

Exodus reered his flight stick hard, sending his custom model into a tight turn, Spinning almost uncontrollably into the hangar bay off the known Moaning Hapen. As the magnificent ship touched down in the hanger, technicians scrambled to repair the subtle damage. Exodus left his engines running while the technicians connected fuel pumps to his possession and refueled. Exodus felt the familiar anticipation of violence building within him. The power of the dark side of the force coursed though his veins like an unquenchable fire. He allowed his mind to become completely focused on the moment, attaining a level of concentration and awareness impossible to any but the Jedi trained. He felt the slow melding as his senses became one with the massive spacecraft; The Moaning Hapen, and the void of space around them. After the door had slid open with a slight hiss, he strode unhurriedly along the tight and constricted passageway until he reached the armored bulkhead of the Imperial Troop-drop ship. The dark warrior examined the metal surface closely for a moment, before drawing out the smooth handle of his Lightsaber from where it hung beneath his dark robes. The blades ignited with a distinct scorching hiss and extended to a little more than half a meter in length. Exodus studied the surface for another moment before adjusting the syringe of the emitter until the blade extended to roughly a full meter each. Satisfied, he took a brief moment to focus his anger and rage and ride the rush of power that they produced, before deactivating the wicked blades and replacing them safely unto his belt. His iris's now glazed over with a subsequent malevolence, impatient to draw for blood. His presence was definately felt throughout the entirety of these soldiers, even his known brethren John, whether or not they met each other once upon a time. He respected him above many, his direct and impulsive nature was definately a feat of power that allowed his personality to rise above others. He was honored to head into battle alongside such. For now though, he would remain hushed, analyzing the battle to come..

The form of Exodus sat without motion within those hallowed chambers, the words of Master Tarrian and Master Mortis Diabolus flowing through him as they were born unto his ears by the air's displaced currents. His hands hovered at chest height, one clasped into a balled but gentle fist and the other an open palm. Those that spent significant time with the Sith Lord would recognise this as a regular occurrence, a custom amongst his heritage. A symbol of balance and control passed down through generations, just as the antique weapon at his side would be. It may have been this that generated the veritable aura of power that was wreathed around this Sith like a flowing, majestic robe. Then again, it may have been the troubled environment, the sounds and echoes of life in this room. It was a beat, a heartbeat. The pulse of Cardia. The Sith smiled as he heard Tarrian's remark, the statement whispering in his brain as the Lord considered his options, considered this blood trailed expedition. ”œIt would be an honour to accompany you to Coruscant”

Black and smooth like velvet was the star lit sky, tonight was a night too remember one too behold and fathom its illustrious wonder. The whisps of barren wind belowed and cried through the midnight hour, and frost was taking form amongst the dew kissed grass. All the while Exodus wished upon this moonlit eve for the dreamers that were all but gone, empty was his twisted mishapen black heart. A hurrican of thoughts whirled through his diabolical mind, his destiney shaped by the stars and marred across the hells for all to see. If one only chose too look upon the cosmic wheel they would see what the very gods themselves had predestined for them, but ignorant was the realm of gunslinging peons. It rose up to his knees; this sea of black that now surrounded him. His eyes could barely make out what swayed around him lightly pressing against his legs. Slender fingers slowly began to move, as if awakening from a deep sleep. His mind snapped back to reality, how long he had been standing in this field, it felt an eternity to him as he looked upon the stars, cursing them as they looked down upon him, as if mocking what he had accomplished. His head tilted back down, his feathery black hair, that had grown a bit longer since his last appearance, swaying in synchronization with the tall grass that wrapped about his legs. His figure was a mere silhouette, the black long robe that hung down to the middle of his ankles covered and concealed most of his body. His eyes leveled down, taking a step his movement rustled through the grass, his steel plated boots crushing the grass beneath them. Scanning the grounds about him subconsciously. His began to feel the paranoia once again, his mind racing beyond understanding as thoughts and assumptions streamed in. Pulling one of his hands from his pocket, he looked at the empty medicine bottle and shook it, hearing nothing, "How unprofessional." He remained still for a few short seconds, releasing the bottle from his grip and letting it fall to the ground. Swiftly, Exodus turned upon his heel, scanning the area more preciously, glassy almond shaped beads falling to nothingness, allowing his body to erase itself from reality and intertwine with the very shadows that accompanied him. -- A gloved hand reached behind him, the other sliding out of the pocket of his robe, the hood now blowing furiously behind his head. His hand grasped around the hilt, pulling it forward under his arm, sliding back and taking hold of the grip while his free hand positioned itself beneath the weapon, his body now perfectly still; his hair and coat were the only things that separated him from becoming a statue as the very strengthening aura continued to furiously ravage his entirety. Unbeknownst to both apparent Dark Lords, Exodus now stretched himself from the shadows and stood directly behind them with complete vigiliance. It was magnificent to say the least, but his level of control remained underestimated and underrated by all. Now would be the time to prove himself. Win or lose, he would shake the galaxy with his raw might. "Death.." The eerie word was echoed several times down the passageways. His presence was definately acknowledged at this point, and his loyalty remained intact as well as his complete and sheer honorable feats. "..Has arrived"

”œContact, I repeat, contact, two o' clock south of my position.”

A figure sat within the shadowed corner, a void of silence hanging about him, which seemed to defy the defining roar of words exchanged between the two parties. He sat alone, back against the wall, weapon cradled easily in his strong arms. His body was numb with the lack of sensation, especially with the protective clothing, but he put it out of his mind, as he focused upon other matters. Drawing his knees closer to his chest, he dropped his head down slightly, glaring out of the corner of one eye, watching as his brethren spouted words to one another and left just as soon as they left their mouths. Inhaling a breath of the frigid air, he turned his attention back to where it had been focused before, a small circular window, across the short expanse of the hallway. He could not see much out of it, save the departure of the one known as John - A more respectable Sith, or so Exodus had percieved him. His questions were now answered, the happenings of the Sith were quiet yet couldn't be hidden from his ears. Fortunately, his presence was dimmed to a perfect state. These two sculptures of darkness fed off of each other's presence and undervalued the significance of his own existence. Regardless, his thirst for an update of current events was quenched and he was no longer needed here. More pressing matters had to be dealt with, and a Lord of his stature remained busy. (Just bored, throwing a post out there)

Internal Memo To: Darth Exodus, Commander Fr: -- RE: Squadron .eRa Date: [yesterday] Commander Exodus, I felt it appropriate to inform you that Division .eRa is ahead of schedule. Our original timeline targeted strategic mobilization three months from now; our current timeline should put us combat-ready in three weeks. The training budget provided, and the technologies soon to be developed by stolen/hybrid researchers, will greatly enhance the unit's readiness. The goals of the division continue to be met, and I am confident that the soldiers will perform up to the high standards set for our duties. Over and out. -- The air seized with it an unsettling silence, broken only by the sputter of the mechanical device, which detained a simplistic memo of inspection from those whom worked under Exodus. The mechanism folded over once the message was displayed before Blake and the Sith Lord, accomplishing its purpose. ”œTake these coordinates. Just a stone's throw away, these men are positioned under a perfected disguise. They will reveal themselves, and incorporate their hardships and exercises upon you.”

He did not bother to see the man approach, nor did he bother to hear him; he felt him, felt the dark cloud of evil and hatred descend upon him as the man moved to stand beside him. He smiled to himself. He would do well with this one. It would begin with the Sith being whittled out of wood or sculpted from stone. Every part of the boy would be immersed in hate and the boy would soak up the darkness, just as a sponge soaks up water. He would be swelled with it, flourished in it, until no space was left untainted, infiltrated. "What purpose have you here?" The draft that battered the sinister robed stature was as bitter and callous as the black heart that inhabited the phenomenon. A mesmeric face, showing the first markings of terrain, which would become ever more deep chasms of hate and malevolence, smiled with a wicked contempt. His eyes, like always, were buried in the shadows of his hood. They're light still glinted with a cool emerald, which would soon become jaundiced with temper. The grin narrowed, showing the seriousness of the offense made before him. Holding the luminous but fatal weapon in his hand aroused memories of how he had risen to become the Lord and how his own mentor would soon witness what she had forgotten. With a powerful force that came from within he heaved a horrendous outburst of the force, cutting through robes and flesh, tearing mildly through the body of the ignorant fool before him, as if he was tissue thin, spilling blood in a putrid gush at his feet. "You ignorant, absentminded fool!" The black robes whipped, violently across the reflective durasteel floor, taking the eerie spectre through the parting doorway and through the trail of blood, which stretched directly to the opposite end of the room, filled with the hum of the boundless resonance that the Dark side provided. The subduing assault was only meant to contain the aggressive nature that this conceited being drowned himself in. Exodus, surprised with the results would continue his dominant stride regardless, closing the distance between the two with each fearful step. The room itself reverberated with an overflowing amount of aura, almost expanding itself in a nonsensical manner. ”œYou will learn your place, now or later. The choice is yours. But we have more important issues to address, Are you ready to continue ”“ My apprentice?”

The assigned Lieutenant led Exodus' reconnaissance detachment through the dense wood and undergrowth of a large expanse of forest on the outermost edges of one of Cardia's principal population areas. Their speeder bikes howled noisily as they cut and swerved through the huge trunks of ancient trees that defied gravity in their attempt to touch the ceiling of the sky. Long range scanners picked up little of interest and the forest itself while always alive with the gentle hum of insects and small mammals contained nothing of note. This was indeed a primitive world. Presently the team of five scout troops reached their rendezvous point, near the northern edge of the forest, which came out on a gently sloping plain leading down to the city. From his vantage point, the squadron could see the maze of streets and buildings laid out like an intricate patchwork and with their burglarized macrobinoculurs scoured the bustling streets. The people were dressed in simple clothes ”“ plain cloths and drably made animal skins - carrying about their mundane daily rituals unaware that they were being watched. There were few droids or speeders in use, further indication of an underdeveloped world. This was a deprived planet and its people were humble and basic, hardly warranting the attention of a reconnaissance mission or for that matter the efforts of the always-hidden Exodus. It made the team wonder what the Sith Lord had hoped to find here, if anything at all. --- Shortly after eRa had reported in their all too predictable findings, Exodus was ready to move once again. The unbreakable man stood in such a position that made the casual onlooker impulsively stand straighter. His back remained absolutely straight, held firm by the leather and steel laced robe draped over his body. His eyes shone through the shadow that hid them, adding to the aura of a man who had seen things happen, and had not only witnessed, but participated in some of the more grisly aspects of life. It was the stance that made the man so recognizable, the robe he wore. One of the only traces of disciplined legacy left in the galaxy came in the form of this man. His eye sockets were worn due to the lack of sleep, and many who laid eyes upon this man had wondered whether he could see outside of the blackened mists that surrounded him. Perhaps because of the blankness in his eyes, one is given a sense of utter emptiness about the man's soul. He appeared more robot than man to the casual observer. However, those who believed him to be merely an empty shell were often in for a surprise. He clasped in one gauntleted hand an extremely treacherous lightsaber hilt, the sort that belonged in the possession of the most compelling Sith. A pack was strapped onto the back of his lightweight armor, which he held up effortlessly even though it must have weighed quite a bit. His other hand was clenched into a tense fist. While he appeared to be watching the various citizens of many different species, he was in fact gazing at the irrepressible motion that his unit had progressed in. --- Exodus stood outside the Temple he had claimed as his home, the tall trees of the forest standing tall all around him. He would have to compensate for his own ignorance, knowing that Trowa attempted to visit, but left without a chance of recognition. Regardless, he now stretched his vision across the force once more, sensing dormant potential within the very temple itself. It might've been a load, carrying Dominique with the entire prowess yet to be released with her, but Exodus knew his duty and regardless if the Dark Lord himself noticed his efforts, he would continue to serve his purpose. ”œMy Lord, do you copy?”

Most of the time had been spent meditating and training, since the thought of more sleep made him cringe. He couldn't remember the last time he slept that being many days in a row. It wasn't unusual for the Sith Lord to go several days without even a ten minute doze, but it was unusual for him to suffer through what he was doing now. Meditation, though, for some reason, wasn't easy that day. He couldn't sit in the position he felt most comfortable in, that being sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and arms stretched out. His legs were so stiff he couldn't bring himself to force them to bend. He had tried to walk the stiffness off by making his way to the door and then back again, but it hadn't done the trick he had hoped it would. The meditation itself brought unwanted images to his mind. He couldn't be completely sure, but from what he could find, he was supposed to be dead. Still, questions lay paved across his mind, while answers eluded him to the best of their ability. Exodus stood up as straight as his abdomen would allow him and tried to be as casual as he could to walk out of the area and into a narrow hall. He looked down to his left where there were two closed doors. To his right was an open doorway against the wall; he sensed activity coming from that room. "Alora..."But naturally, as opportunity laid infront of him, he had to refuse and tend to his apprentice, whom unexpectedly had completed her 'test' with a swiftness that shocked him. -- ..He could hear her, feel her, almost as if being forced too. He chose not to listen, regardless. He watched her, though, and the dimming light lent the barest edges of her lips a strange, hypnotic shade. Several moments passed before he returned to the task at hand. Opening the door and watching reality ease its way back into perception. His posture firm, fearless and mostly without evident emotion. Examining the dismantled mess before him, the stench of rotting flesh and intoxicated blood flow made it that much worse. He was quite surprised, for one without a past or any such experience of life to come out victorious was more then alarming. Whether she spoke the truth or not, he knew he would find out in due time. Invading her mind would prove too easy, making the challenge that more tasteful. "Hm?" Fortunately, she held a scar to remind her of such an encounter, a bloodied gash upon her frame, a nasty one at that. Blending the weaves of the force with nurtured control - Exodus slithered the tiny tendrils of force throughout the room and lifted a number miniscule objects. A bottle of alcoholic liquids, a roll of flexible casting beneath the bed and the simplistic black cylinder from his belt. In one smooth fluidic fashion, the roll unravelled itself and was quickly decapitated from the bulk. "We cannot have you bleeding all over the place, not that it would make any difference from mess you left on my floor..." The lid of the cleasing bottle was screwed off and the liquids were bluntly poured onto his masculine hands, filled with callouses and muscles of the sort. Without question or hesistation, he pulled his injured apprentice towards his more dominant figure and slide his hand across the wound solidly. The pain ofcourse was unbearable to the fresh feminine figure, but Exodus' hold made it that much more comforting. While this was done, the casting would reel itself around the beautiful figure, protecting the ravaged flesh and insuring that the rehabilitation would run smoothly. "You've done well, I must take this time to evaluate... recent events. Seek out Master Alora, or rather - one of her apprentices. These fools have plagued my mind. I need you serve as an influence to them and dig deep within their minds to find out their true intent, if such a thing exists." While wrapping up the last of her scarred body, Exodus would rise to his full posture once more, squinting his eyelids as if peering through his apprentice and furthermore the solid surroundings. "You must know, I cannot teach you everything. Simply help you to understand your own hidden achievements. Your an impressive being to say the least, and time will reveal your true potential." Whipping his honored robe to the rear, Exodus turned his back and headed out once more. To where? Who knew, this was a common habit of his, but as he did such - his voice beckoned in the hollow room. "Go now... You will know when your task is complete"

The royal radiance was stitched through the darkness in long sweeps, rising in graceful arcs and darting down quickly. The design left in the welling black was intricate, but began to fade as soon as it appeared, leaving a strange, fevered mist in its path. There was a melodic undertone in the form of a gentle, electric hum. The sound lowered and rose in unison with the flexes of light, with such delicate nuance that it could have easily been mistaken for a natural voice. But, if that were so, the harmony would have been far more beautiful, because the voice was. Or perhaps it was only the kind embellishments of memory that led Exodus to believe that. Time didn't heal all wounds, but it allowed the mind a measure of delusion, to pretend said wounds were merely bruises, instead of the massive, deep, bloody gashes they were. Maybe that voice wasn't the warm dulcet, both cultured and simple, elegant and personable, that he claimed to remember. Or maybe it was. He watched the color work its way through the pall, able to glimpse snatches of the young, intensely focused face that was bathed in saber glow. The instances of illumination never lasted long enough. They came in fast beats, though not nearly as fast as the lightning cadence reverberating in his chest. He saw the flicker of a tensed muscle, the strain of a gold-flecked bicep. Beyond the vibrant lattice stood a fitting backdrop of midnight. Keeping in tone with the hushed arena, the sky was a balmy mixture of obsidian and sapphire, beaded with the occasional sparkle. The wind had been cool in the day, but layers of glass and permacrete blocked the soothing touch in this late hour. Exodus could hear it thread through the leaves, but could not feel it drift along his flesh. On a smooth temple, a fresh coat of sweat was forming. Exodus immediately knew why; the level of exertion was dramatically increased, as the performer leapt from simple to advanced kata. It was not the form he himself would have preferred. But still, the movements stirred a familiarity in his bones. Often, he had joined in the particular brand of battle dance out of compromise, learning technique he had never appreciated, honing skills he would never use. After all, he would never stray from his chosen form, when met with true danger. Nor would the other. At this point, insanity wouldve been the case. But to better define what was happening would serve its purpose. Exodus, slithered from the scene with his apprentice, allowing her to grow evermore independant, while he progressed himself. It was as if throughout the blanket of the force, he could naturally precieve himself refining his techniques, his fluidic motions, and his extraordinary self control. Out of the many forces throughout the galaxy, which of them actually took the time to review what they knew? exercise their abilities and further their extent? Unfortunately, for them - Only a select few. Excitement and rage combined to create a power that was so intoxicating it was almost too much; almost. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was there; it was all about the present, the here-and-now, and he was going to live every moment in high glory and bask in the upcoming success. The Sith Lord prided himself in the constant evaluation and improvements of himself, it was as if no one else noticed his existence, not even The Dark Lord himself, nor his very own Master whom would've simply forgotten him such like his friend Trowa. He remained, a phantom of sorts, a reaper if you will - hidden behind the scenes, gradually sucking the strength from the very force itself. He breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the irritated terrain sectioned at the back of the temple. Somewhere in the back of his mind he found it odd that Alora had not pursued him any further. Then again, she probably thought higher of her new apprentices, which too irritated his mind. Thoughts raced through and ricocheted off of Exodus' skull with dizzying speed. He needed to occupy himself, before he tempted death of his own brethren..

"She expects me to believe that is all?" The room door slid open, allowing the greenish glow of a fading radiation storm to wash over the few meters of floor not covered by tables or chairs. The light illuminated in strange alien relief boot prints in all shapes and sizes that tracked through the permanent layer of dust. A shape stood, silhouetted in the doorway, for a long moment. Thick-bodied and tall, the mutilated being seemed to be surveying the room, seemingly trying to decide if it was worth his time to step across the threshold. Then he did, and the door slid shut, and the green glow faded into the pale black mist atmosphere. It's long, slow strides carried itself between small round tables and around overturned chairs. He made his way over to Exodus in a most frightful manner, and promptly blended into the haze of smoke that filled the private quarters. Up close, the features were more than defined. Drunken stance above all, skin detached and hanging followed by green liquids oozing from all pores, slowly but surely. It's very existence intoxicating on all levels. The face, the most eerie-filled aspect of whatever this was - It had none. Skin peeled over dead skin and this being stood as if just awakening from the dead. "You'll need this." Sliding over what would seem to be a very basic sword, Exodus vanished as if never there the moment before. Why would Dominique need a sword? She had already crafted a rather durable blaster? Wouldn't it be enough to light up whatever this thing was in several blasts regardless? Whatever the answer, it stood - almost waiting for Dominique to come to her senses. But as silence weighed heavily on the surroundings, it had to be broken. An ear-piercing woosh burst through the room, the undead's bulky structure was now positioned directly behind Dominique, weighing an elbow aimed for absolute death.

The lights swiftly flickered back on, revealing the ever calm pair exchanging tranquility. Exodus then shifted his weight and lifted the slab of metal beneath him with a great deal of strength. A hidden section of the Academy it would seem, a small, confined by useful section that Exodus apparently used to his advantage. Without explanation or reason to what his intent was, the Sith Lord vanished, slipping into the tunnel. Wherever it was, the tome had done well in concealing itself deep within the safety of the many musty shelves scattered about the cramped room. It was quite odd, for he remembered the location of every single other tome, book, or scroll deposited within this ”˜vault'; having read all of them at least twice, it was bound to happen. Keenly aware of the valuable pieces of literature stored within the vault, Exodus was quite sure that wildly digging through them all could very well ruin ancient parchment, but the sentiment did nothing to suppress his urge to do so anyway. ”œI knew this would come in handy someday.”

His feelings had to be repressed, he wished could explore those feelings of satisfaction for seeing Dominique once more, but seclusion, his rise in power and knowledge filled his mind with wisdom unfathomed by most others of his kind. Their connection at a time like this would render weaknesses, such he couldnt afford. Brushing past her with a slight nod, Exodus whispered in a slithering pitch, words that contradicted the mood and rather, instilled fear. "Follow me". Continuing onwards, pressing himself against the entryway of his private quarters, swinging the door open carelessly and dropping dead center on the floor. "Sit". Allowing silence to overcome the two, shifting his intensifying weight of what seemed to be an unbearable and unnatural amount of atmospheric pressure into the room, severing the connectivity of the room's lighting and inducing complete darkness to engulf them both in a blackened abyss... Everything still remained silent. "In the dark... There is no difference between an enemy and a friend. In the midst of a firefight, a blaster bolt from your brother's carbine kills just as surely as a bolt from the followers of the Jedi. Life and death know no relations, never shake hands, never wait to see if their arrival is welcome or their departure serene. And the only thing any being can do, when the time comes, is their duty. Duty, above all. Remember this well, Apprentice." Through this, there was also calm. She was wary, but something in her kept the wariness from bearing her down with its weight. She smelled of confidence, but not arrogance. She felt fear -- and perhaps Exodus flattered himself that it might have been due to his presence, when she might have been nervous about the reality of it all. She was fresh-bread but would exceed the cluttering amount of dumbfounded brethren he had to be associated with.

Exodus' eyes opened slowly. They stung slightly from the liquid filled world that greeted him. Squinting, he peered around the tube that contained him, reassuring his physic got the necessary rehabilitation. He felt the roundness of the glass tube with his fingertips. A clanking noise reverberated through his enclosure. He inhaled sharply and jerked his neck back. The ceiling had been removed, and he was being raised upward by the harness he wore. The tread the medical vest was attached to clicked noisily. The sound caused his ears to ache. Blinking several times, he cleared the solution from his eyes and attempted to adjust them to the light, which proved impossible. The harness clunked again as it moved sideways before he was lowered to the ground. Exodus stood on his own two feet with the help of the support. The Sith lord flexed his fingers, creating fists then relaxing. Exodus reached up and ran a hand over and through his smooth hair. The conveyor belt whirred and he was sent along the metal wall into a second chamber. The harness released him, but was replaced by two thin cords attached to his wrists. Several spherical droids floated into the room from an unseen entrance. Each droid produced a multitude of jointed arms that ended in needles of different lengths. Exodus spent the next several minutes in what would naturally be excruciating agony, but to him was nothing but several pokes and pinches reinforcing his entire inner system. Throughout the process, he remained completely silent, with only a grimace on his face. Exodus let out a long hiss that contained all the rage he had held in during the procedure, built through pure impatience. He quickly composed himself, and set his features in an expressionless stare. The wrist cords released, and Exodus was moved back to the first chamber. Waiting for him was a clothes rack projected from the center of the floor. Exodus was placed on the ground. He remained in place for a few moments, then edged toward the clothing that was suspended from the metal bars. Reaching forward, he removed the pants and slipped into them. Next he stepped into the pair of black boots located at the base of the structure. Exodus bounded toward the opposite wall. He ran halfway up then propelled himself outward with his heels. Rotating in the air several times, he landed with a satisfying thud as his boots met the metal deck. Pleased with his efforts, Exodus finished dressing. He adjusted his right glove and a buzzing noise flickered behind him. A small podium with a holographic image display had been placed on top. He walked over cautiously, then pressed the activator button. "Welcome back, Lord Exodus" ------- After several hours of his pilot struggling through undergrowth, across the ever-darkening forests of Cardia, the pilot drew near to the installation, skirting the nearby Sith Academy, which stretched up into the treetops. The Cy pilot carefully brought the ship to hover over thinner plating. Exodus felt the gentle thump as the craft slowly settled on the archaic surface, then latched itself firmly to the landing port. "..- Keep an eye on the ship, I shall return shortly." Once he was certain that the ship was firmly attached, Exodus extended the connecting hatch with the flip of a switch. The hatch connected to the floor with a thump, and Exodus strode off dominately towards the doors of his official home. Hopefully, Dominique continued her studies and could prepare for the adventures and lesson that would come to par.

Exodus awoke abruptly, eyes snapping open only to be blinded by a bright overhead light. He squinted, throwing an arm over his face, and groaned as a dull throbbing in his head finally penetrated his new awareness. He shifted experimentally, immediately recognizing the familiar feel of a ship's med-bay mattress. But his limbs also felt stiff, and he stretched carefully as he covered his hindered eyes with his blackened hood. It was then that he remembered what had happened. He sat bolt upright in the bed, his hand unconsciously reaching for his lightsaber, but it wasn't there. He looked down to his waist, realizing with dismay that all his weapons were missing. His clothes were gone too. He wore nothing but the form-fitting robe meant to be used as the underlayer of the more respectable armored suits. ”œBe steady, Sir. Your inner mutation has taken a definite toll on your conciousness. Pain may not be a factor, but the mind still functions all the same.”

Exodus struggled to rise. His shout fell short as he itched out in shrill pain. It was bursting out of his right arm, burning his hand, inflaming his brain with thoughts of agony and hurt. In astonishment of the sheer magnitude of the pain, his eyes rolled, entering an abyss of rectification, absorbing the said pain into a chasm of nonexistence. The sensation gone, the suffering erased, breaking out of his physical structure and engaging a state of metamorphosis, becoming what he sought for. His gratitude could not be expressed in any way shape or form, but Nurgle knew. After all, his will was already bonded to that of the menacing God. There was no turning back now, no room for regret or repentance ”“ Just the acceptance of his purpose and following the path set before him. Contracting his entire body, allowing all of his expanding muscles to confine and gush with the newly acquired flush of utter power, he knew it was true. No illusion, no dim-witted hoax, it was there, oozing into his psyche, influencing Exodus with a extraordinary slew of knowledge and comprehension of years worth of archaic wisdom. ”œMy will is indefinitely yours Master, and I am grateful for such.”

He couldn't breathe. The excruciating anguish surrounded and suffocated him, pressing down in his chest making him struggle for each breath. It all happened too soon. Standing tall with simplified completion, to falling almost face first in an overwhelming sensation that wouldn't dare to ease up even with his inner pleads. A trail of blood pumped its way through the crevices of his mouth, pooling into a sloppy stain upon the floor. Regardless, his calm was kept while his body trembled. His facial expression was terrifying, simply gazing into another world as if he were dead. Such was not the case, but he would fool the wisest into thinking so. "Without strife, victory has no meaning. Without strife, I will not advance. Without strife, there is only stagnation." It was unusual at best, such trust was earned and dwelled upon overtime, yet Nurgle held a persuasive manner to it all, once that demanded your trust and had it no other way. He was compelled to believe in the man, he would provide a purpose, and would become his reason for life. Eyes now pulling to the back of his head, Exodus could only keep one thing in mind. Absolution... [sorry, had to rush the post.]

Darkness. By definition, it means the absence of moral and spiritual values. It means evil. And that is what it is. The darkness... where it once simply filled, it will consume. Where there was light, there will be shadows... and where there were once only shadows, there will be the impenetrable, foreboding black of fear. It will cover like a cloud, filling every crevice, every crack with its presence. And this time, it will not be stopped. Fear will fill the heart of every living being; no race, no kind will remain untouched by the unwavering grasp of the dark side. It will fill, it will consume... it will rule the galaxy and all its inhabitants; complete control will lie in the hand of the darkest of them all. His presence will be sensed, and moreover, feared throughout all the worlds. At the mere mention of his name, at a small glance from the emptiness of his eyes, all thoughts of resistance will vanish from citizen's minds as they tremulously comply. Yes, they will comply... or they will die at his relentless hand. He will reign the worlds with an iron fist, leaving no room for resistance. Planets will conform, or they will be obliterated. "It will be done my lord" Nodding and dropping his hands to his side, he turned from the presences before him and stepped towards the door. He turned the handle, dread filling him as he realized that he would be leaving his only sanctuary for the time being. He shook the feeling off and winced as a creak came from the door hinges. Shutting the door behind him, he marched with control as his daunting robe scattered and spread across the prehistoric flooring. He hadn't heard other people, footsteps or voices. He had been too caught up his fantasized reality. Someone pushed on his shoulders and his hands leapt to his lightsaber hilt without his realization. He raised his head permitting the few strands of hair to set themselves aside. Taken back, he noticed that five people now surrounded him. From the detached and unaffected looks upon their faces, he knew little of their intention. But that wasn't important, he was being threatened, it proved difficult to control himself while strangers of such degree lashed out and entered his space. "Your intentions are vague, so I shall give you this warning; Get out of my way." Apparently, these soldiers were accustomed to Master Nurgle's manifestations, therefore merely providing any form of assistance possible. Unfortunately so, Exodus would have to refrain from spilling the blood of his future comrades. The warning was set, and the message was clear regardless. The mysterious soldiers vanished without a second thought and allowed the Sith Lord, Exodus, to continue on his meager journey alone. -- On a sheer drop, overlooking the shadowed valley stood Exodus. Drawing in a deep breath, he fought a blood thirsty temptation inspired by the thick air that clouded his lungs. His gaze shifted to study the massive borderline, surrounding the dreadful forest that hindered the true horizon, painting the almost blood-tainted clouds that wafted across the sky in ill-omened shades of crimson. His long, sophisticatedly embroidered robes shifted in the breeze, the pale creams transcending the blood and grime of the landscape. Drawing an unsteady breath, he focused his thoughts, connecting with the vast energies of the Force. There was comfort in the currents. The fear at the edge of his consciousness was washed away. And his very figure was gripped in the malevolence of it all. In one fell swoop, Exodus detonated from the very ground itself, rupturing its former state into a pounded oblivion as his body was sent quite the distance into the sky. Still in mid-air, He spun around so fast that he nearly blurred, his unnatural emerald eyes falling upon the glistening crystal clear lake that surfaced right before his land. Exodus then walked through the starkness of the forest to overwhelm airstreams passing isolation; swift but gradual leaves scattered all over, feeling somewhat cold from solitude; following the direction the river flowed in. Old yet stout boughs of antiquated shrubs graze against his footwear as he listened quietly. Then without hesitation, Exodus crouched and leaned towards the relentless flow of ambiguity, absorbing whatever contents would drain into his system. -- Moments, not even minutes later.. Winds passed by and the grasses swayed like entities enjoying the rhythms of the winds music, overlooking the sole fact that the Sith Lord nearby suffered with a storm raging within his entire body. The sky; engulfed in dark gloomy gray clouds participating in what looked like a ritual, where it swirled around the peak of the forest. Sharp bright flashes of lightening illuminated the sky at random intervals, while the thunder destroyed any peace that existed. Swift cold rain poured out of the sky with hail being transported by the rain leaving the area in an unpleasant state of despair. In midst of the violent passion of the storm, the stench of decay is evident, for the world is about to witness the coming of an unspeakable evil. As the cracks upon the solid soul reached the bottom, streams of smoke could be seen hissing out Exodus in every which direction. Ultimately the region in the surrounding area was swallowed up in smoke, completely hiding what was truly happening, a transformation but to which and how? The vivacious, effervescent flush of color, alternating between black and an olive green, began to be drawn towards the top of the forest, entering the spiraling vortex above. The phenomena didn't remain for long, as the top of the whirlpool was violently closed, banishing forbidden essences from common sight. The smog cleared, the excruciating noise left as quick as it came, and the forest continued it's secrete routine. However, sprawled amongst the floor was a distinct coating, or more so ”“ a shedding of skin. Its surface soaked in venomous liquids, oozing with an irregular illumination. Its entire qualities questioned normality, as it seemed to thicken within a constant time frame. Regardless, Exodus stood before it ”“ crushing it with his dominant boot and sending it into the ravaging river. There was something to note; His visible texture seemed to glisten with a new source of eminence, rivaling science itself. The splits within his fascinating yet malice filled irises were defined to a sharpening point allowing the green hue to shroud like a cloud within the two orbs. There was definitely more, but such a scale was unknown to even himself at this early point in time. With no time to spare, the improved Sith Lord was literally airborne through the forest, where nature only saw an obsidian blur. The only thing noticeable would be the slightest pressure upon the innocent terrain, before it returned to its original state. It would not be long before Exodus passed through the gate and entered the favorable castle once more. In fact, only moments were spared in the return and before they knew it, Exodus had arrived”¦ "Sorry to interupt My lord, but the task has been completed"

Exodus stood with pride at the window of the quarters in the respected fortress. Darkness was lying like a blanket over Vjun. A soft breeze carried the silent murmuring of the darkness to his ears. The twinkling stars appeared and together with the lights of the dwellings they added to the peaceful atmosphere as if he was peering right through the walls. His hands hiding in the wide Sith robe, Exodus thoughtfully looked up into the darkness of the infinite sky. He pondered his previous conversation with Master Nurgle, from which he had basically just returned. Exodus had been looking forward to starting this new chapter of his life, whether he himself permitted it or not. He had mentally prepared himself for the tests he would have to face, as the darkness had advised. The pulse of life, his life, beat within his body. It was calling to him. Reaching out to him and drawing him back from wherever he would seek to run too now. He would not deny it today. No. In reality he was alive for the first time in his life and he knew the true strength that came from the deity before him. Therefore, his motive was bland and quite straightforward; "I am yours to command" He didnt butter up the situation to any degree, he knew the consequences, he was well aware of the reprecussions and still - his future laid within the hands of this... essence of utter power. "Take me as your champion and I shall be quick to execute your very wishes and commands." From simple observations from previous conversations, Exodus assumed that the ever-powerful Nurgle would regard a request for a designated power. Unfortunately, his mind hadn't conjured anything specific. Simply the will to progress and serve a purpose. Hopefully, Nurgle would have something in surprise for him though.

Searching through his mind, and his soul, down to the very essence of his being the Sith Lord felt for that point of darkness. Once found he turned his attention to that dark half of his core self and grasped both tightly. Images flew through his mind, focusing he let the harmonic thud of its pressure echo throughout his unoccupied mind. The feeling would feed into itself, bound by the disciplined nature that was Exodus. His thoughts trailed and was brought back to attention when a cool whip of air lashed across the definition of his robes. A small smile tugged at the man's lips, he could feel the strength and energy of the individual who had just recieved such and he could sense the intent. The conversation was coming to a dull and would stop eventually. Hopefully then, Exodus could revoke his idle self with a source of power that could fuel his own intentions. Still, he waited patiently. Robes fluttering in the ever absent wind that trailed throughout the deadened fortress, mind evaluating each and every dark presence that succumbed to the planet's will, It was magnificent. (Eh, Just posting to kill time and to show I'm not inactive, just waiting.)