The chance to gain a view into the governing council of the Order was one he couldn’t pass up, with how infrequent that was. Many of the reasons that necessitated they convene, when they did, were for delicate matters that kept their discussions private, but the readmission of someone into their ranks was both uncommon occurrence and uncommon opportunity to show how the Council treated this and other similar situations; his attendance at those proceedings had taken up a portion of his morning.
He could only speculate on what made anyone step away from their vows, or what made them renege on that decision and return, but he couldn’t fault any one person for wanting to support the cause of the Alliance, regardless of their reasons. With murmurs of impending war and other related rumours haunting conversations around the Temple, now was as good a time as any to do so.
So it was these thoughts, among others, that drove him to put in time honing his bladework after a desperately-needed ounce of shut-eye, given that it had evaded him entirely the previous evening. Also more caf while he walked down a corridor to the most distant set of training rooms, taking the occasional sip, full of intent to either find a sparring partner, or contend with the training remotes.
But when Vizion began to turn a corner, he caught a glimpse of an unusually-dressed person skulking suspiciously into one of the rooms, and quickly stepped back behind the turn so as to not be seen. Not only did they look out of place, but the sight was underwrit by an undeniable feeling emanating off of them that screamed
interloper, sending his thoughts churning as he took a shade of a moment to consider how to handle this. His eyes narrowed and his hand went to one of the hits on his belt, his decision made, and he cautiously peered around the corner… only to see someone else more normal-looking - a blonde woman he similarly didn't recognize - coming from the other direction toward the same room.
Vizion cursed internally, fully realising how suspicious he might look if he were discovered, and he pulled back behind the turn yet again before he could be seen, a thin frown curving his lips. Leaning against the wall, he elected to listen while his heart settled down from the jig it'd been forced to dance from the sheer surprise, and soon enough, he heard an expected sound for this part of the temple - the telltale sound of a lightsaber's ignition.
But it was the sound of a jumpscare and the other occupant's reaction which came soon after, that urged him into action, rounding the corner and reaching the door within seconds, the hilt in his hand remaining switched off as he set one foot into the room and immediately read the situation. That frown flattened into a line.
"You."
He indicated the suspicious interloper with his unlit hilt.
"Don't belong here."
