Halketh
Libertas quae sera tamen
SYMBIOTIC
DARK LORD OF THE SITH
DARTH CAELITUS
The Aegis of Woe | Ace | Lightsaber
Donne Toulemonde
ONBOARD 'The Prophet'
The Mercurial Saint had disregarded and cast aside summons from his peers, his allies, and his devout, forsaking his duties to them to prioritize his health above all else. If his mortal shell failed him and his soul unchained to reunite with the Dark before his conquest was ended, there was no hope for rest and peace. So it was then, the miraluka sat in his runic circle, plunging himself into the ebb and flow of The Force to latch onto the Darkness hungrily, his greedy summons seeing his flesh weld back together at a torturous pace. Despite the wracking pain, the Dark Lord demonstrated no exterior pain, his composure gathered and kept, though his audience was none. The soldiers posted beyond the grand doors, however, twitched and growled, feeling the effects of his fingers plucking at the strings of the unseen.
Orders had been issued with his return to the vessel, the course set for Exegol, he was somewhat eager to return to the shadowy world, and far away from the New Imperial faces he recognized amongst the ranks he slaughtered and raised. He knew fighting them outright would be a gamble, a dangerous one not just due to the sheer power of the Empire, but for his already torqued psyche. He was a man divided in half, one the harbinger of destruction and invoker of nightmare, whilst the other begged from its mental prison to be set free. He longed for peace, the sole drive that unified the two halves, though their means and methods were so vastly different they barely seemed the same at all. Halketh had longed to take Cotan Sar'andor 's hand and find Ezra Dune , righting the horrific wrongs he had done until he would inevitably face the justice he was due. That was his peace.
Caelitus, on the other hand, sought to bring the entire galaxy crumbling down, plunging it into a Darkness the likes of which had never been seen, and rebuilding it brick by brick until it was as he envisioned in his fractured mind palace. Annihilation was the only way, death the only truth, and only by bringing the sentients of the galaxy unto it, could he truly unite them to peace.
Within his statuesque frame, the two halves wrestled with one another, sending ripples of conflict from him in his meditative state, plunging the entire ship under the influence of his creeping dread.