Public Bleeding Ghosts of the Past

[Kyrel Ren]

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His boots felt heavy against the ash ridden soil with every step. Looking around to the mixture of lava fields and the iron trees that had sprouted in an ever changing hellscape. They had often said that home was where the heart was, and if Kyrel ever had one it was within the world of Mustafar had lied his heart, and was the only place where he truly felt himself. Walking the Gahenn plains surrounding by the roar of the volcanos, he felt nothing but the dark side surge all around him the eyes of the Mustafarians natives watching him and yet didn’t approach. His undead vision watching the ruins of his home, or what was his home in the form of Fortress Vader.

The once mighty structure looked unrecognizable now. The tuning forks all but gone, what stood was pieces of obsidian brick, durasteel and evidence of a battle fought long ago. With each step he reached ever so closer to it, until he walked what he thought was the entrance. What greeted him was what remains of a statue, the statue being the Sith he admired so greatly, even went as far as to imitate. Darth Vader while an ancient legend, bordering on that of a god like figure was nonetheless a means to an end.

Kyrel stood before the head, his dead eyes blinking pondering his obsession for a moment. Much could have been said, instead Kyrel continued to move through the old ruins, memories flooded how he once ruled this world, how the Knights of Ren were numerous. Now here he stood as a relic of such rule, since then unlike his imitation he carved his own wave of fear. His steps getting slower, as with each one it felt as if he walked straight into the past.

When he left here long ago, it was at the call of the Maw’s promise of power. To gain what has long since been denied since his resurrection. Now he had achieved great things, armies at his beck and call, his name rivaled and surpassed the monstrosity of Vader. Now he found it wasn’t enough, the Maw, the First Order it was the same to him. Always made from gaining true power, to have it all, a promise he hoped would be different with it all leading to Tython.

He continued on, pondering the past twenty years of both alive and undead, all the while voices echoing in his head. His path down to the corridors towards the cave of the dark side he felt the pilgrimage of dark siders. It was clear many had come and gone through these ruins in his absence, perhaps seeking solace, answers or even pain within the ruins.

Wandering down through the catacombs, the Wrath of the Maw looked around, these days he didn’t know who would wanna kill him. Even if that wasn’t the case, If Sith wandered into his old home that would be worse. The Ren had marked his territory at least when he came back, regardless he pressed deeper into the lava filled ruins.

His path led him to the cave, while the ritual center lies in ruins the locus still held great power. Even in the ruins he found a silver box. The strange box was familiar and yet different. Compelled by it he stepped forward, never been drawn before by it. Standing before the center, the ancient Sith symbols shined brightly. The Wrath felt a mysterious aura as he opened the silver box, and before him was a lightsaber. The hilt in such fine craftsmanship, it’s design and style was like the elegance of the core worlds. Then as he opened it, a breeze flew by him and he heard a voice speak his name. A voice he remembered all too well, his Voxyn senses heightened as he thought others had followed him. The voice sent chills down his Kyber spine as it spoke. “Kyrel Ren…”

 

[The Human]

Silence. That was all one can ever fully hope to achieve. In the depths of a crumbling ruin to a machine, a machine that people had worshiped that was considered near equivalent to the legendary status of Revan. The reason though he was here, was beyond those of mere treasure hunters, mortals and those who wish to gain power. No, it was the effort of proving ones self in the Force, far beyond those of others and discover something he been searching for almost a year now.

His Identity.​

Far be it from himself to keep searching, to find answers though in the deepest bowels of this accursed ruin was supposed to lay answers for himself. Each step taken, was another step closer to finding out the truth. Parts of the cave wall crumbled nearby as the wind blew past him, breathing that very name...Kyrel Ren. Standing a bit straighter, he allowed his Force Signature to increase a twelve fold, almost close to a beacon in the Force, undeniably strong and used it to feel the area around him. The Beacon of his own signature radiated in a strange grey area of the Force, as if undecided on what his true path still was laid to become.

Staring at the wall, his Force Signature quickly went back to normal, still able to be sensed but now more personal to find. Walking straight towards the wall, he started to phase through the rocks and metals around it, keeping a deep concentration. Seeing nothing but of black material, only relying on the Force for guidance. The ancient structure still beats the heart of the Dark Side, something that The Human still tried to fully understand at all costs. Within half a minute, he phased through the wall into the chamber, the chamber where the infamous Wrath of the Maw stood, near a silver box. Standing towards the back left side of the ritual area, he merely stood, no attempt at speaking but of watching the other individual as the symbols of the Sith reacted in the ritual room to him non-violently, almost in phrasing.

Tash. Kanasazi. Isdawi. Shuriji. Kraujas. Drazutis. Midwan. Nak.​

Kyrel Ren

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel’s gaze only remained on that of the lightsaber in his hands, he said to himself as he felt the design of the saber. “I… know this saber…” He said astonished and much to his amazement the saber of Jedi Miran Kyrel… his own mother that he killed in order to become Ren. Long ago he had thought he bled the crystal, instead he must have kept it.. Why would the wrath keep such a relic, he didn’t know. In the end perhaps some ghosts didn’t die, her voice he could even hear in his head long after death.

Gripping the saber tightly, the green blade flashed with a hiss as he felt her spirit still. Her form long since forgotten to him, her attempts at redemption from his path almost succeeded, he had been content suffering in hell. Now he had been tasked with a greater purpose as a vengeful undead seeking to destroy the Jedi and the Sith and see the dark side under someone stronger. He waved the blade in his hand around, pondering what could have been and where he was now as something truly terrifying.

His Voxyn senses heightened and now he sensed that he was not alone, pointing the green blade all around him the surrounding dark side aura that permeated both here and the ruins made it difficult. The force signature was strong and only made him crave it. The familiar mantra of his Sith makers sounding out over and over. “Consume, devour!!” As if to hunt down who or what it was.

Then he saw what seemed to be a shadow phase through the wall, or what looked to be a shadow. A masked figure similar to that of his own Knights of Ren. Feeling him, it felt hollow and yet strange. He watched Kyrel and didn’t stare. Then the markings on the walls start to glow, looking around frantically in surprise, he didn’t know what to think. The markings spoke and all around the nexus point he heard the ancient Sith tongue. “Impossible…” He said in his astonishment. Pointing the green blade towards the shadowy looking figure. “Who are you? Speak now before I end whatever existence you came from…”

The Human

 

[The Human]

The green blade of the opposites lightsaber filled in the darkened cavern with a green light, the Humans masked brown eyes watching it move. It was an entrancement, seeing parts of previous days pass before his very own eyes. Slowly with both hands, he removed part of his hood as the entire mask encompassed like a helmet across his head. The astonishment in the others voice, was satisfyingly to hear, satisfying to yearn from. The Sith Runes glowed the same words over and over, their light red hues pulsing lightly while the masked figure looked forward with his voice raspy, as if scarred from numerous attempts of speech.

"The Force, is never Impossible. A millennia I have lived and died, walked these very halls, met those of power. My name...will never be important, my memories are nothing but fragments. I remember you though...Wrath of the Maw. I remember two sets of orders...loyalty and killing. I remember two Emperors...and only one can I still see in my eyes. To follow his orders...to protect his land, to punish those against us, and to follow his will."

The red hues of the Sith Runes slowly dimmed out, as if a moment had passed. The left hand of the Human starting to carefully unclip a lightsaber, a kill of his from almost a year ago, visible barely in the green light hue that encompassed them. In that same green light, a small bit of the Force may be felt, that of the Light Side from the individual, a piece of innocence. It was then destroyed with a violent twitch of the individuals head, his memories flooding back into his mind. The raspy voice returned only a second later, more scarred and more forced as if struggling to find the words of Basic.

"I Serve the Emperor above All Others!"​

The Dark Side radiated wildly inside the individual, the lightsaber activated to produce a crimson hue against the green light. The Sith Runes would react rather violently as the ritual room flared with a red glow against the dim green light, screeching the words of Vengeance and Hatred, as if connected to the Masked Figure before the Wrath of Maw. Perhaps though, that could be used to ones advantage. Slowly, the figure started to walk towards the other masked individual, lightsaber diagonally downward in a style of Makashi. The Force became extremely strong in the room surrounding them, once again, perhaps another area to exploit...as the individual before him, seemed to radiate outwards more than inwards.

Kyrel Ren