Tyrant Queen of Darkness
"Finding secrets has become somewhat of a hobby of mine."
- TAG: OPEN
Ruusan.
An ancient, terrible place.
Even now, as one walked amongst the barren deserts of the planet, the screams of the damned echoed through the Force like distant thunder buried beneath the sand. The world itself remembered. Beneath every ruined valley and beneath every dune scorched black by forgotten war, the dead lingered still. Countless souls, shattered and consumed during the cataclysm that had once broken them all, remained trapped within the wound Ruusan had become.
A graveyard. A scar upon the galaxy.
The storied nature of the planet had long since passed into myth for most of the modern tales. It was here, according to the histories, that the Sith had once been annihilated in ages past. Here that ancient powers, rituals and horrors beyond modern comprehension had been buried beneath ash and time alike. The Force itself felt wrong upon Ruusan, as though reality had never fully healed from what transpired here. Darkness lingered in the soil. In the wind. In the silence between heartbeats.
And yet, so few came seeking it. Perhaps they considered the world too dangerous. Perhaps the proximity to old Jedi interests had discouraged the ambitious. Or perhaps modern Sith had simply grown weak, content to posture within temples and courts while the true remnants of power rotted forgotten beneath their feet.
It mattered little to the Tyrant Queen.
Darth Virelia had spent the last months wandering endlessly between worlds, weaving herself through the arteries of a dying galaxy with patient precision. Every scheme another thread pulled tighter around the throat of the age to come. The galaxy had changed in her absence. But in so many ways, it remained exactly the same. Still divided. Still fearful. Still desperately awaiting something strong enough to seize it by the throat and force meaning upon its chaos.
There was much to do.
Oh, there was so very much to do.
A sultry smile slowly formed beneath the six-eyed mask of the Tyrant's Embrace as violet lenses swept across the desolation before her. The ancient battlefield stretched endlessly beneath the dying light, broken rock and crimson sand illuminated beneath the cold glare of Ruusan's sky. Around her, excavation droids moved carefully amongst half-buried ruins protruding from the wasteland like the ribs of some colossal corpse.
But Virelia scarcely noticed them.
Deep beneath the dead world, something waited. She could feel it, a distant pulse against the edge of perception. The sensation coiled through her like silk dragged across exposed nerves, awakening that eternal hunger buried within her soul—the gnawing need for forbidden knowledge, for power untouched by lesser hands, for secrets the galaxy had long since deemed too terrible to remember.
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