Empyrean did not slumber, for the dead who still walked were not given the luxury of sleep. Instead, he meditated on Jutrand or Vash'karath. Today he did much the same, floating in his personal study while he awaited the rest of the Sith Order's capital to awaken. He'd allowed his mind to wander, for a while, feeling out various battle plans and future...
Yet all those paled as a harsh vision overcame him. He could see the future for once, and it was dark. Great galactic gears had begun to turn, and it was like a screech tore across the galaxy - metal tearing from metal. He floated towards those gears in this vision, coming closer to massive clockwork as it twisted him around, even at a distance, like he was connected via invisible axel. From the blackness around him, however, something else waited.
Eyes. He could not see them, for all his infinite vision, but he could feel them. Something, no - a hundred things watched him, waiting for him to make a single mistake before they would swarm him. Despite never taking a step, the Emperor seemed to hesitate for a moment, and this was their signal. He couldn't make who they were, but they rushed him, and no matter how quickly he tried to defend himself, he could feel his strength stolen from him.
He would have awoken in a cold sweat, but the Emperor simply stood as anger and fear festered in his dead heart. Something was happening. Something was changing. Something was coming.
