Laphisto snarled low in his throat as the dead began to stir, the grinding of stone lids echoing through the chamber like thunder under his feet. One by one, the coffins shuddered and burst open, spilling out the desiccated remains of Dathomiri long since claimed by rot only now filled with a mockery of life.
His eyes flicked over the room, tracking movement a dozen, two dozen corpses, closing in with clumsy, jerking steps that belied their unnatural strength. The stench of death and old sorcery filled the air, and Laphisto's grip tightened on his saber. The weapon flared to full brightness with a sharp hiss, the pale light carving through the murk.
The first corpse lunged, and he met it cleanly his blade splitting the thing in half from skull to sternum. He pivoted, slicing horizontally through another that staggered too close, then thrust a hand outward. The Force surged from his palm in a rippling pulse, scattering a cluster of bodies back into the tombs they'd come from. The growl rumbling from his chest deepened as he worked, moving with fluid precision through the chaos each motion honed, each strike deliberate.
Even so, they were endless. For every one that fell, another clawed free from a stone sarcophagus. He began to maneuver along the chamber's outer edge, staying in motion, keeping the swarm from surrounding him. With a grunt, he slammed his hand to the ground, channeling the Force through the stone itself. The floor groaned and heaved upward, rising into jagged barriers of rock. He vaulted over them, the barricades forming in his wake as he carved a winding path through the undead horde. then he heard Xukos voice
"the bodies"
"
Yeah, I see the bodies, boy!" he barked, his voice carrying over the clash of stone and decaying flesh. "
I'm dealing with it!"
A burst of power followed his words he thrust his hand outward again, sending a line of corpses tumbling like broken puppets. Then, with a second pull, he drew up another wall of stone, stepping atop it with the grace of someone who had danced through war before. The air shimmered faintly around him heat from his saber and the crackle of raw Force energy mingling together.
Perched on the rising barricade, he exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the chaos below. "
By the gods," he muttered, half under his breath, "
this had better be worth the trouble." With that, he leapt again higher this time using the Force to propel himself across the chamber, angling for distance, strategy, and one precious moment to breathe before the dead inevitably found him again.
When Xuko's voice cut through the noise again
"on the chairs " Laphisto's brow furrowed sharply. He followed the line of sight toward the three thrones, his lone ear flicking as the meaning sank in. The growl that left him was half frustration, half disbelief.
He drew his sidearm with a smooth motion, raising it toward the seated corpses. The pistol barked three sharp times
thunk, thunk, thunk each slug finding its mark dead-center in a mummified chest. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. The bodies remained rigid, their faces untouched by even the courtesy of flinching. Then the rest of Xuko's words reached him.
"Off"
"
Should've led with that, kid!" he barked back, voice roughened by the chaos. Around him, the world was already descending into madness. The undead were piling over one another, claws scraping against stone, skeletal fingers clutching for purchase as they clawed their way up his makeshift barricade. He could hear their teeth grinding, the dry rasp of desiccated lungs dragging in air they no longer needed.
Laphisto took a steadying breath. Pebbles lifted from the floor, rising in slow orbit around him. Dust motes froze midair as gravity bent to his will. The energy that radiated from him wasn't purely luminous nor was it dark. It shimmered somewhere in between, a storm of harmony and contradiction. Sparks of violet lightning arced between the stones, dancing across the metal seams of his armor, crawling up the edge of his broadsaber like veins of living fire.
He exhaled and the world exploded. The Force surged outward from him in a blinding wave of radiance, a detonation that rippled through the entire chamber. It struck with the fury of a solar flare of light side energy flaring gold and white, shadows torn from the walls and flung into oblivion. The undead were caught mid-climb, hurled backward in a rain of splintered bone and tattered flesh. The shockwave tore through tombs, shattered coffins, and sent loose debris whirling through the air like a hurricane of stone and dust.
For several seconds, the chamber was nothing but chaos the echo of his power rebounding off ancient walls, the sound of rock collapsing and undead bodies breaking against the ground. When it finally stilled, Laphisto stood alone atop the fractured barricade, the faint glow of his saber cutting through the haze of drifting dust and smoke. He drew in another breath, slow and steady, the faint crackle of residual lightning crawling over his gauntlet before fading away.
Reaching outward, Laphisto drew the lingering power of the Force back into himself, his claws curling as the storm he'd unleashed coiled once more around his arms. The air hummed alive with static and tension dust swirling around his boots as the faint afterglow of his previous blast flickered across the walls. A low rumble escaped his throat and then he released it.
The first blast roared from his palms like a focused explosion, tearing through the chamber with concussive fury. The ground split open where it passed, stone cracking and dust erupting into the air. It struck the central throne dead-on, engulfing the mummified body and its seat in a violent flare of energy that lit the chamber brighter than any torch.
Before the echoes could fade, Laphisto pulled again the Force answering with eager ferocity. He turned his stance, thrusting out another wave, this one angled to the left. The second throne was hit with equal force, vanishing behind a blinding shockwave of heat and kinetic energy.
He didn't stop. The third blast followed a heartbeat later raw, primal, driven by momentum and instinct slamming into the last of the seated figures. The entire chamber shuddered with the impact, dust cascading from the ceiling in thick veils, the air vibrating with residual power all he could od was hope that was enough to do the trick.
Xuko Pagoi
Laphisto
