The trap had been set. Inside the dreaded halls of Citadel Caelitus, amid the broken walls of dark obsidian and long dead sconces, Lord Letifer stood in silence. Shadows clung to him like an old armor, the deep red glow of his visor shone through the darkness, casting fractured light from it's surface. Once, these halls had echoed with the footfalls of the Empire's inner circle, the whispers of courtiers and warlords alike marching to the beat of the Sith'ari's command. Now, they groaned with ice and memory.
A return to their nature order.
Letifer's breath steamed in the frigid air, his lungs aching with the familiarity of the cold. Age had crept into his bones, a slow rot beneath the skin, but it had not dulled his mind, nor the fire that burned behind his pale yellow eyes. He sensed them, sensed their darkness as they approached. He knew they would come for him in time, oh yes he knew. Letifer had never been a favorite within the New Sith Order, he had been absconded, cast aside and left to climb the ladder from the gutter.
And so he had.
From the days of the Second Great Hyperspace War to the ends of the Empire, he had climbed, killed, and taken what was rightfully his. He had claimed the mantle of Lordship among the Sith, and had mastered the potency of the Dark Side. Yet even then he knew it was not enough, no matter how far he went, no matter how loyal he proved himself he would never be safe. It simply was not the way of the New Sith Order. He had yet to break his chains, he had yet to truly free himself to wield his power as he wished.
And for that reason, he did not return when the call of the Sith'ari came again. And for that reason, he knew he would be hunted. He watched from a ledge as the two entered the Citadel, he watched as they moved to engage.
One falling. One chasing.
But it was not Lok that held Letifer's focus. No, he felt
him. That old familiar rage, trudging through the storm like a revenant.
Creuat. His executioner. His rival. His mirror. The presence of the Nautolan in the Force was unmistakable. Still alive, still burning, still clutching that righteous fury like a drowning man grasping a blade. Letifer turned toward the far door. With a simple flick of his fingers, the locking mechanisms disengaged, hissing open to reveal the long descent below the war room. The winding path led through the oldest parts of the Citadel, through meditation chambers that had once belonged to Caelitus himself, and the crypts of forgotten Sith who'd pledged loyalty and died anonymously.
"Come then." Letifer whispered, his voice echoing through the modulator in his mask, reverberating through the empty halls,
"Let's see if you can kill me while there is still meaning in it."
The Force stirred around him as he moved. He stopped before a scorched mural depicting the fall of the Jedi Temple during the Great Battle of Coruscant, when the Brotherhood of the Maw and New Sith Order destroyed the holy place of the New Jedi Order. Time and fire had erased most of it, but the image of a cloaked figure raising a saber against a Jedi Council member still remained, charred but proud. He put his hand on the mural, basking in the moment of ancient history. His history.
Letifer closed his eyes. He drew strength not from hatred, but from conviction. The
New Sith Code still burned in his heart, even if the vision of the Empire did not.
"You come for my blood, Rhis." he spoke aloud now, projecting his voice through the Citadel.
"Because you are still afraid."
A soft metallic
snap-hiss broke the silence as Letifer's saber flared into a bright crimson, angled low by his side as he descended further into the chamber, where wide space opened beneath a great oculus ceiling, shattered open to the blizzard above. Snow fell in slow, dusting the bodies of dead stormtroopers who had been left to guard this sanctum of the Empire in the Emperor's absence, still slumped against the pillars. This would be the place.
Letifer moved to the center, the crimson blade humming quietly. He turned his back to the entrance.
"Because you were always afraid."