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Dear Brother,

I know that this is not what you wanted. That you hoped that I would be able to find something on Naboo to hold me here, but my rest has been uneasy.

Dreams, or perhaps visions from the force has plagued me at night and I can no longer ignore it; for the visions that I see are of myself, bathed in Confederate blood.

And in my waking hours, I feel the darkness which seeps into my bones and claws at my mind. Sinking fangs and teeth into my very soul and as much as I think that I can control it, my emotions are far too heightened in my human form. Objects do not stay whole and I myself see a red haze that clouds my vision as I withhold from lashing out at anyone who dares to lay a hand on me.

This anger, grief and anguish is too much. I fear that madness is just around the corner and I fear that I will no longer know as to who is friend and who is foe. The lines that distinguish these facts are blurring and I struggle to maintain a grip. The force beckons to be satiated through blood and my will to repress such an action, weakens with every word that I write even now.

Yet I cannot help but reflect and I wonder briefly if I was doomed ever since I was a pup who witnessed the slaughter of her pack. A pup who had retreated into the beast to save herself, as she was thrown into a world of savagery where it was kill or be killed. A pup who was doom to fail at being human and instead turned into a demon beast whose path is to bring about death rather than bring life into the world.

Whatever the case, I will not be able to find the answers here and I guess you are wondering as to why I even bothered to write this letter instead of simply disappearing like last time? It’s because this time, I don’t want anyone to follow. I don’t want Confederate blood on my hands and I especially don’t want you to follow either. I’m writing this to tell you of my intentions and they far differ from my intentions of before.

My plan is to disappear. To be out of sight and out of mind. I will find some desolate place to unleash this power that grows, so that I may be able to wrestle control of it and myself once more. My wish is not death. Not of myself or others, but to avert madness. And should I fail, should the madness of this darkening power overcome me; then at least I’ll be in a place where my maddening being cannot hurt a Confederate.

Gerwald Lechner. I hope that you can understand this. That you will honour my wishes, to not come looking for me, but know that I will be one message away should you desperately need my help. I will take a datapad with the location tracking disabled. I will hide it and I will check it from time to time; that is, if I haven’t lost my sense of self.

You will be in my thoughts, but this is something that as someone who has consistently lost most who has ever gotten close to me, needs to do. I need to do this and I hope that you understand.

If I survive, I will return- This is my promise to you.

The Red Demon,
...Redd.


Her golden eyes stared at the page for a while before she slowly folded the piece of paper and rested it upon her brother’s desk.

Fingers curled as she took one last look around the man’s office and growled softly at the one who dared to try and guide her out once again, but the intruder knew that it was time to leave. Could feel the darkness of the force slice through her very being and with that, she made a swift exit.

It was time that the Red Demon fought a battle of her own self.

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