Private Exegol Family....I Failed You

[Jin X]

Dogma
-KMFDM-

Character Voice: X

Location: Exegol
Objective: Redfine
Gear: Nightmare of Exegol (Lightsaber), The Fiend's Grin (Lightwhip), Pistol, Sniper Rifle
Tags: Darth Ophidia​

From my little corner of hell, I watched how numerous forces fell upon my planet, disrupting and killing it away. My heart, what is left of it after going through cybernetic procedures, couldn't properly mourn it. I wasn't born here but kidnapped away from a different life and reconstructed into this. What I did miss, almost emotionally wavering, was the last three of my kind; encased in a green fluid of thickened ooze of glass to, well at one point to be resurrected, but now conditioned to die. Whomever won this carnival, their fate is sealed. I should have been the one to kill my siblings, not the Jedi and not the Sith. Sith, oh how that word resonates anger from my lips. These Sith Eternals, these scientists with their poking and prodding and recalibrating of bodies should suffer a death worthy of the most painful dispositions. Torture. And these Jedi....saviors of the galaxy, champions of those incapable of defending themselves, these heroes elevated to pedestals of grandeur: I scoff, they failed to save me from this cyborg torment of life. How much if me is left? How much has been replaced from a transferred kidnapped child into the monster I've become. Not enough, I accept my lot in life, and will refuse to let this impurity go unpunished.

My partial eyes of both organic and cybernetics continued to watch the events unfold below me, always aware of the two soldiers from whose alignment I no longer held a care slowly and creep upon behind me. These tin soldier boys wanted to capture something or someone: but I am neither a someone nor something, I'm simply the reason they kissed their wives or husband's goodbye for the final time. "Arms up and do not make any sudden movements," the words of one soldier pronounced almost like he meant it. I know the Force and the Dark Side, two religious philosophies beaten into me by the Sith scientists and their subsequent Masters. I have been trained to kill on command, groomed to use certain abilities; yet those abilities are a mere whisper currently. Whispers needing to be cultivated into a field of bad dreams and nightmares, harvested to poison the galaxy's water source of life. From my crouched position, silently wishing my trio of siblings a mournful farewell, I stood up: my back to them and towering over them like a god. Closing my eyes, I reached out through the Force gripping their throats, trying to strangle them. However, my attempts were futile, as I could only manage to force them to squirm and nearly break my grip. With a sigh, and a mutter word of failure, I withdrew my lightsaber, activated it, and spun around in such a fashion that both heads rolled onto the rocky landscape. Kneeling down, I took a few pieces of flesh, to eat and satisfy my hunger.

With a few morsels of flesh cascading down my gullet; I bid Exegol and my siblings a sad farewell. Now, I was at a crossroads. Let these Jedi and Sith and their combined alliances destroy the world of my rebirth. Perhaps the Jedi will haphazardly stumble upon me, and I can kill them, or allow them to violently reunite me with my trio of soon-to-be-dead family. Or perhaps the Sith find me, and once more brutally torture me back into service. Either way, death is moot.