Private Kings of Medicine

[Kiber Dorn]

Throughout all the pain and the terror that permeated his pitiful form, there was an undeniable sense of animalistic pleasure to be derived from hearing his torturer scream, her hand departing from his mouth and leaving a small parting gift.

Were there more critical thinking involved in the scenario then Kiber would have scarcely believed that he had just done that. Bitten through her finger like some kind of savage monstrosity. At least, if nothing else, he had exacted a small amount of revenge upon the queen that had captured him in the first place.

No time to enjoy the little things, hard to consider them, really.

His tongue was still half-cut and pissing out crimson that overwhelmed his mouth as his screams had died down to a gargled wail. Vengeance, after all, did nothing to lessen his own suff-

Sudden.

Sharp.

Pain.

As if all the air in the room had disappeared he gasped, his body immediately succumbing to the sickening sensation that screeched upon such a sensitive area. Tears in the eyes, a breathless heave of sheer agony. It was as if he had been overwhelmed by a sudden crippling illness, one that demanded that he curled up upon the floor, wept, vomited and never moved again. It was a feeling so horrendous that Dorn had in fact momentarily forgotten why he was strapped to this table in the first place.

It was nothing short of a miracle that the man did not faint.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Did he really have to do everything himself?

Returning to the chamber with the correct components and implements, he hurried his gait in response to the alert he had just received from the creature serving as the site's administrator. Either Cara was getting soft on him - which seemed about as likely as Emperor Carnifex turning pacifist - or that lout Dorn had proven himself an even more annoying subject; were it not for his potential, the Sith Lord would have oh-so-happily flung him out the nearest airlock one sucker punch ago.

Stepping through the doors the moment they slid open, he directed his best frown towards the scene... and then promptly froze. What in the deepest, darkest reaches of Hell was going on? Was she missing a... was the dagger in his... fething Hell.

"Emperor's balls..." forgive the pun "... what is going on here?"

Not truly expecting an answer, he shouted for a medic - though one had likely already been dispatched - then marched over to the bloody mess in his lab, pushed open Dorn's blood-coated mouth, and blinked in disbelief when he saw the half-way cut-off tongue and a formerly pink finger.

Sighing in resignation, he wagged his finger telekinetically fished out the severed digit, then sighed again.

"Force-damn it Cara, all you had to do was cut out a restrained man's tongue. How... how?"

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

The agony was still like no other that he had faced before, managing to still dominate Kiber's mind and keep it far from the realms of his current circumstance, even his own half-cut tongue couldn't get a glimpse in the spotlight of this suffering. Even the return of the Sith Lord and the prospect of Dorn's untimely demise couldn't distract from the life-crippling agony.

I suppose if there was one positive to take away from the scenario was that it really lessened the fear factor.

Blood was creeping down his throat as the finger was retrieved from his crimson maw, the man in charge talking but all that Kiber really heard was 'mwap-mwap mwa mwap mwap mwap' as the klaxons of his own human biology continued to blare in distress.

None of the pain had lessened with time, only growing, reverberating out through his core as if he had let a champion shockboxer go ten rounds with each of his lower internal organs. He gasped for air, he squeaked, he gagged. Kiber Dorn was still firmly on his own colourful adventure of pain.

The man had to claw with every drop of physical and mental fuel left to interact with their world, eyes still wide and bloodshot, with tears rolling down his gaunt face.

“TAKE!”

Each shout summoned between terrible gasps.

“IT!”

He was really quite dramatic, wasn't he?

“OUT!”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Severed digit slowly revolving in the air before him, Adrian frown deepened, though the infernal screeching of his recalcitrant test subject shook him out of his confusion. This really was turning out to be an unfortunate incident overall.

"Hold onto this, if you want it reattached." Propelling the finger into Cara's fully intact hand, he saw it begin to shake her out of her own confusion, but it hardly mattered. Evidently, this was not something he could leave to his subordinates.

"Oh shut up, if I were to guess it's your own bloody fault. Biting off a fething finger, who the hell does that?"

Even so, he reached out with the Force, telekinetic force closing around the dagger and then suddenly, callously, fulfilling the request. He'd feel bad for the man, but even as teenager he had found that his empathy ended suddenly where transgressions against himself began - a manner of thinking that had hardly lost ground through years of soaking in the Dark Side's corruptive influence.

Tapping into his wrist-com, he rattled off another request in a strangely calm tone. "Trauma team to Zerek One, one male subject with a half-way severed tongue and severe damage to the genitalia, significant blood loss likely. Reconstructive surgery is unnecessary. One female employee with a severed finger, prompt reattachment requested."

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Were the words of others not abstract concepts that failed to penetrate his mind then Kiber might have objected to his scolding. As if him biting through the Zelton's digit was the greatest act of savagery that had taken place upon this day. Who bites off a fething finger? I don't know, who cuts out somebody's fething tongue! Mercifully, there came no sassy retort on the addict's part, just further agonised braying.

As it turned out, the desperate notion of the blade's removal providing a sense of relief was wildly inaccurate, and as it was so-suddenly pulled a hoarse shriek escaped the man; his voice beginning to wear out due to rampant screaming.

He felt as if he were turning inside-out, the sharpness of the pain from his wound still unrelenting in the way it crept into his gut and reverberated outwards into what felt like every single nerve ending. Blood still swam down his throat but largely it went unnoticed as his scrambled thoughts could think of nought but agony.

A chill descended, his flesh having grown slick with sweat and the urge to expel the bile in his gut was replaced vertiginous haze.

Was he dying?

No, at least not yet.

Dorn's consciousness, however, was fast fading. Caught somewhere between pain and blood-loss it was almost admirable that he didn't faint when the blade first struck. Screams dying down to a whimper, head-swimming. Eventually, the man's head lolled to the side and in what was a great mercy to everybody's ears, Kiber passed out.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Sighing dramatically as his test subject fainted and medical personnel flooded into the room, his orders being the only thing that kept them from defaulting to triage protocol and giving the Zeltron a chair to sit on while they attended the obviously far more urgent patient.

Dorn didn't even have the grace to let himself be transformed into a monster without making a fuss, what a tosser.

"No, leave him there. Cut it out completely... oh, and you might as well geld him too since Cara went and half-way did it on her own initiative." Rubbing his face, he quickly ordered a caf from a flustered aide before continuing. "Goodness knows he wouldn't be getting any use out of it once I'm done anyway."

Leaning back in a chair as the trauma team got to work - Xesh had been thoughtful enough to send ones that took their oath to do no harm very, very liberally. What would he do without them?

Almost too soon, he'd drunk his caf and revised his plans, a fresh-eyed Acolyte in a lab coat much like his own taking the Zeltron's place. Eagre to prove herself to a Triumvir, no doubt... and it certainly didn't hurt that this little assignment took the place of one of the Academy's brutal Trials.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

It was even too much to ask that unconsciousness would be pleasant.

Likely a side-effect from the Sith's intrusion into his mind, his time in the void was plagued by fragments of scattered memories. A litany of life's mistakes replaying in wicked distortion, scenes of his wasted life freezing, s k ipping and melding together like a corrupted holocron.

Fasterandfaster, spinning in a blur of narcotic e x c e s s. Faces indistinguishable. Names lost to the vice. Laughter warping into SCREAMS that were so deafening and frantic that their source was undecipherable and not even human.

Was this the summary of his existence?

Was this all that he was?

Mindless chaos.

Pain once more began to thrum, at first nought but an abstract amongst the madness but soon it found form in his body.

Mouth.

Chest.

Groin.

The cacophony of noise faded away, the blinding mess of memories trickling down the walls of his mind until there was only the constant of agony, causing his eyes to open and consciousness to resume. It didn't take long for the fear to return, gripping his soul after the brief respite in lunacy. He moaned, mouth tender and sore as his stare fluttered lazily between labcoats.

“...op...”

Voice hoarse from screaming and tongue gone but thankfully the haze didn't let Kiber realise what else was missing.

“...pea... op...”

Feth, he felt weak.

“...hep......meh...”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Flesh gave way too runic brands as power flowed into Kiber, pouring into his very bones and shifting their structure ever so subtly. His flesh began to shift as well, in some ways similar to Adrian's own and yet intrinsically different.

And to think that they hadn't even begun involving the Starweird samples yet.

"You have some surgical training from before the Academy, no?" Smiling as the Acolyte nodded, he pointed towards their subject's chest, where the runes had already begun to fade as if seeping deeper. "Clear the way to his ribcage, we'll want to brand those more permanently. Careful not to poke a whole in anything too essential yet, he's still human."

Raising an eyebrow at Kiber's half-uttered pleas, there was no mercy to be found in the Sith Lord's cold eyes. "Help you? Why, I am already helping you, am I not? You are wanted dead but what I'm turning you into will be unrecognisable." His voice was serious but his sardonic smile betrayed him.

It had been a long time, years even, since Adrian had been so furious at someone. There would be no mercy, not today.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Clear the way to his ribcage.

Dorn groaned in protest of such a procedure, mostly due to the notion of pain that would come with it, his fingers scrabbling and grasping at nothing as if it might have helped.

Hooded eyelids blinked in uneven tempo, dragging across his bloodshot orbs as if they had been dipped in molasses. There was a morsel of acceptance in his stare, knowing that there was no altering fate upon this slab. He was going to be changed and become something else, something monstrous.

As his gaze poured into the Sith's awful expression, Kiber tried to agree, attempting to nod along with the Triumvir's statement.

“...I...hay....haye...”

The awkward vowels were pulled out of the junkie's mouth as he attempted to communicate acceptance. I change. After all, he could already feel it in his chest, creeping throughout his skin, alien in nature as if affliction was spreading within him. Nothing could be done about that, his was life was forfeit.

“...buh...oh...ore...peh-pai...pea...”

But the suffering could still be lessened.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Grimacing at the wastrel pleas, Adrian's look turned thoughtful - even furious as he was, even though the scum before him deserved this and more for his crimes against the Empire and more importantly those closest to him, he had to admit that he did not enjoy inflicting pain.

Sighing, he walked over to a container on the wall, looking through until what he found what he was looking for. "My Lord? Should I continue, or...?"

Turning back towards the Nautloan Acolyte, he shook his head, smiling softly. "Ah, no, keep going." Pausing, he continued even as he began to prepare the substance he had retrieved for injection. "You may consider this a good bit of advice from an experienced Alchemist to an aspiring one: Never inflict pain without purpose." Letting the statement hang in the air for a moment, he moved to stand besides Kiber's head.

"Don't shun it either, not when experimenting on enemies, traitors, and the like, but don't seek it for its own merit." With that, he injected the golden liquid directly into Kiber, who would likely feel an immense sense of relief as pain morphed into a strange sense of contentment. "All that will accomplish is motivate others to oppose you. Or sate sadistic urges, but we are scientists, not butchers, no?"

"I... think I understand. Nothing without a purpose, not when it comes to Alchemy?" Smiling brightly, the Sith Lord nodded, gesturing to Kiber's partially exposed ribcage. "Very good, but never forget that sometimes curiosity is reason enough. Now... how is your runework?"

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Another eternity.

When the Sith walked away Kiber forced his eyes shut once more, fearful that his pleading for the suffering to stop was too little, too late. The Triumvir's ire had been earned, and in fear-drenched lack of hope, the junkie assumed that he was to feel every last ounce of agony delivered.

A monologue of pain began to drip as the flesh of Dorn's torso met new incisions and he groaned in response, the low wail more animal than man as his malnourished form tautened.

The sudden sensation of the injector gave cause for him to flinch and for emeralds to snap back open. It would seem that there would be at least one small mercy granted upon this day and it didn't take long for the relief to spread as the pain began to dissolve in a soft wave and the man found a sense of comfort washing over him.

Now, wasn't that a peculiar feeling?

The narcotic connoisseur that was Kiber Dorn might have once been perfectly enraptured by such a concoction, for he still held awareness, still knew that he had been mutilated and that his fate was of grim monstrosity and yet, here he was in pleasant complacency. No pain, but serenity in its place. All very apt for the man who lived to deny his own truths.

“...fah...oo,” he mumbled in strange new gratitude as the tenseness of his body melted away into a sense of relaxation, “...ah...veey....eih..”

In gold-tinged acceptance his stare moved to the Nautolan scientist, ready to happily observe what he could of the next process in the procedure very much in spite of the fact that it involved his own unveiled ribcage. Honestly, it was a far preferable state of mind.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

After having his tongue removed, Dorn had finally learnt some manners. Better late than never, he supposed.

The Nautolan at least seemed grateful that her subject was lying still, a look of intense concentration in her eyes as she shaped the runes according to his instructions, no doubt motivated by the fact that a Triumvir had entrusted such an important task to her...

... there was no real need to tell her that he could simply chisel away a bit of the bone if she made a mistake.

"Very good, keep following this design. Hmm, actually, compensate for some cellular degradation by doing... yes, that. Quick learner, eh?" Leaving the work to her for now, he checked his wrist-gadget, confirming that Cara was already undergoing reconstructive surgery. Knowing the competence of his people and the quality of his equipment, it was unlikely that she would lose any function - hell, she might even be able to avoid scarring.

Picking up a canister with something inside than another assistant had been nice enough to drop off while Kiber had been unconscious, Adrian looked at the shifting flesh-thing inside. Starweird tissue, or rather tissue onto which the essential nature of a Starweird had been transposed.

It would be interesting to see whether or not Kiber would survive.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

It was madness, really.

One quick fix and ethic-bending torture had been turned into something akin to a routine dentist visit. Of course, one would have surely made a complaint were they to lose a tongue in that scenario.

Without pain, there was only pressure and due to the way he was strapped down Kiber was unable to actually witness the aforementioned runework. With newfound contentedness in the place of fear's shackles, the man was more than happy to just lay there and observe the sculptor at work, a placid little expression slapped upon his swollen mouth.

This was fine.

Attentions turned to movement within the room, and the addict's gaze meandered over to the Sith and his canister. Dorn knew that this man despised him and that in return he thought the Triumvir was quite the picture of malevolence but under the golden haze, he couldn't help but feel that all was fairly agreeable. I mean, okay, it was obviously the work of the drugs but this was the preferable scenario for everybody, no?

Well, maybe not that Zeltron but she was occupied.

“...wha...ah?” Kiber asked, his voice still a meagre croak from all his prior screaming, making sure to nod what he could of his head towards the container that the Sith held. It didn't really matter what was in it, or if the scientist even told him.

He would feel the same way regardless.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Ever the scientist, Adrian narrowed his eyes in thought at Kiber's question, then began describing in detail the contents of the container. It was time to see just how good Passion's Embrace was at drowning out unwanted emotions, fears, existential dread, and so forth.

"Oh, this? You may consider it the essential essence of a Starweird, the being you saw tear a man apart a bit earlier." Despite what the topic at hand, his voice was calm, conversational. Almost friendly. "I am, of course, going to infuse you with it. Change you into something very different from what you are now." Chuckling warmly, he shook his head. "Don't worry though, unless something goes wrong it will feel... like the new normal."

Shaking his head gently at the Nautolan's questioning glance, he got the message across - it was never a bad time for curiosity.

Retrieving another strange instrument - a "wand" of sorts carved from what looked like humanoid bone (Sith Pureblood, specifically) - he began to mutter incantations under his breath before unscrewing the container, a thin sheen of black miasma enshrouding it and keeping it from making contact with, well, anything. Goodness knew he didn't want any of that on himself - and Kiber was about to have it in himself.

"I trust I have your informed consent?" Cheeky, even for him, but he could not help himself.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

As the Sith scientist explained the contents of the canister the man on the slab simply nodded with an idiotic pacified expression glued to his face.

He recalled his first experience with the Starweird that had occurred not so long ago, knowing that it had been something of a murderous horror show with a touch of screaming on his own behalf. Beyond that, the man also remembered how he had begged for anything else at the prospect of being enhanced by such a monstrous creature.

Nothing had changed in those memories, only his current perspective of the prospective being tinted by wonderful bliss.

Ah, but was it really so bad?

“...aah...ah ow ooo...”

The most peculiar part of it all was the awareness, he knew, rather bluntly, that his feelings upon the matter were entirely fuelled by whatever was coursing through his system and yet the man was entirely incapable of summoning any emotion and with it, any thought that might have resisted. They no longer seemed to exist and thus, he didn't care and was perfectly pleased with the concept of his fate.

Far beneath the thick layers of contentedness trapped within the black void of his mind Kiber thrashed and yelled, objecting to all of it but it was entirely useless. His negativity and with it his survival instincts were completely muted and trapped in a realm of non-existence.

It wasn't cool.

And he certainly did not give informed consent.

However in reality the now-amiable junkie shot the Triumvir two restrained thumbs up and a nod of confirmation with a perfectly placid grin.

“...mhhmm, oo ah...mah ohe...”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

That well, hmm? It was a good thing he did not distribute such strong doses for recreational use, for the intent had never been to impact the free will of users. Willing users, anyway, he had long since stopped having much empathy for the waste of oxygen before him.

Fortunately, the man would be put to new uses, given a new and improved form... albeit not necessarily a comfortable one.

"Save that for the archives, why don't you?" Shaking his head before the Nautolan even had the opportunity to ask he smiled. "Speaking to the mind in charge of the facility, not you. One of my Tsudakyr, I'm sure you've hard of them? An Overmind, one descended from my, ah, majordomo."

Moving on, he transported the substance until it hovered over Kiber, nobbing briefly as the Acolyte moved away of her own initiative; wise enough to do anything to avoid contact, a good sign. With a twist of his wand and a mental exertion, the substance flowed outwards, expanding strangely as it melded and shifted, sparkling like the darkest voids until it seemed a two-dimensional Kiber stared down on him...

... and then, with a precise wave, it descended, blasphemous essence pouring into mortal flesh and altering it irrevocably.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

The implication of given consent was not, in the realm of logic, ideal. His mere utterance of recorded vowels now proof enough that this entire procedure was agreed upon and thus entirely less monstrous upon the surface. Kiber, in fact, knew this as he remained there, slack-jawed and pain-free but he could not summon the ability to feel anything other than perfectly content.

Talk of Tsudakyrs and Overminds evaded the addict as he continued to stare his fate in the face with a placid grin.

Even as proceedings continued he lay there, staring upwards at the growing black mass that soon hovered above him in a nebulous mirror image, emerald eyes pouring into the void that seemed to stare back. His very fate above him, close enough to touch.

This is fine.

As what was perhaps his last coherent thought as a man left his mind, the miasma descended, flowing into every orifice and pore of exposed flesh like a great taint.

The golden glow vanished in an instant. It was no longer fine.

Immediately his body fought to reject the foreign intrusion and Kiber's physical form jerked in violent response. Jaw stiffening and neck pulled so tautly that every detail beneath unwashed flesh could be deciphered. Eyes bulging, limbs seizing, extremities twitching. A strangled scream escaped his rigid maw.

Pain.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before.

The suffering sensation was in every inch of him, from skin to muscle, to organ, to bone. Shifting, changing all at once in horrific thrashing cacophony.

His flesh began to transform, losing all hue of life and turning into a deathly grey that seemed to shrink around muscles that atrophied in real-time, somehow losing the meagre amount of mass they had held in his sin. Hair both of head and body falling out in great clumps upon the slab and floor. Lips grey and receding around ever-sharper teeth. Oft-abused nose pulling back and leaving only a ghoulish nub behind. His entire form becoming horrifyingly skeletal in sudden degeneration.

Oh, gods, it hurt.

Organs began to deteriorate in horrific fashion as desperate eyes looked to the Sith like a frightened animal, the world turning black as both the green of his irises dissolved alongside pupils into milky whiteness, leaving lidless orbs staring in monstrous terror. In perfect tandem the Force that flowed within him exploded in a sudden burst, touching every inch of curdling flesh and surging with such sudden ferocity that he could not comprehend it.

So cold.

Feral cries faded into a rasp and then nothing at all as human tissue was lost to alien, vocal folds redundant in new design. A gasp, and another, oxygen fruitlessly entering his feral maw but with nowhere to go, lungs having atrophied to nothing. Heartbeat fading as it too faced complete redundancy, tormented circulatory system disintegrating as made evident from the lack of veins upon shrink-wrapped skin. One last anaemic beat of the heart.

I can't breathe.

The struggles ceased.

Kiber Dorn was dead.

The withered body remained still and those who could not feel would have thought the experiment to be a failure, but for those that could...

...the Force flourished, it's macabre energies woven into every fibre of ghastly, withered flesh. In stark contrast to the creature upon the slab it was a wondrous sensation to behold, it's Dark Side potency wafting from cadaverous flesh to such a degree that it seemed to change the very scent held in the air. No wonder that such was the case, for in the place of human biology there was only the Force. It had become the organs, the oxygen, the very blood of the creature.

All-consuming.

It moved, head lolling to the side as the mouth opened and closed in hazy repetition like a helpless fish. In the wake of newfound sensitivities, whispers were left crawling upon the inside of the creature's mind like scars left behind. Incomprehensible yet malevolent, like a thousand different languages being hissed at once.

Flesh, which only moments ago had felt the bitter cold of physical death now suffered from the apparent heat of the temperature-controlled room.

Vestigial eyes sought vision but in its stead the mind's eye opened, blinking to life for the very first time, seeing in broken kaleidoscopic image devoid of all colour with the exception of the two living auras still within the room.

The mind still clung to the last moments of real living and a voice, telepathic in nature and still terrified from the prior experience echoed outwards for those who could hear it.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Observing the change with interest, Adrian spoke out loud for the benefit of posterity. "Let the record note that the infusion seems successful, although the Passion's Embrace dispersed immediately. Potential biological incompatibilities should be considered in relation to other drugs."

Such a statement was mostly redundant, of course, for sensors aplenty were directed at the man on the slab, every nanometre of his body scanned tirelessly and filed for later analysis - unlike many, he had always believed in the application of the scientific method to the occult sciences.

The Nautolan Acolyte stirred at his side, as if questioning, when Dorn seemed to expire... but even she, inexperienced as she was, noticed the truth within a moment or two. It had worked, the transformation had stuck. He... no, it was magnificent, the power palpable to his senses.

"I suspect you won't need to, not anymore... and may I say, you have adapted to the removal of your tongue remarkably well."

Chuckling to himself, he pulled the gloves off his hands, revealing a gleaming ring on his right - measures would need to be taken to control this new specimen, to shape it into a vessel for his will, and this was as good a beginning as any. Muttering incantations with practiced surety, he began to weave his magics over Dorn's new form - weakened and confused, born anew, he would be vulnerable. Very vulnerable.

Vulnerable enough to be moulded like clay before the potter? Perhaps.

Kiber Dorn​

 

[Kiber Dorn]

As the echoes of a dead life began to recede into the abyss the creature attempted to acclimatise to its sudden existence.

The strong presence within the room spoke, and seemingly the sound was directed towards being upon the slab causing it to physically stir a little more. The context was lost in the Sith's words as it attempted to consider the meaning and the withered mouth stopped gaping upon being gifted the knowledge that it didn't need to breathe.

But it once did and it once held a tongue too.

Why?

Withered flesh pulled across the creature's face as it tried to understand, searching for memories that were buried beneath the writhing shadow of so many voices. There seemed to only be the infinity of the Force and in tandem its tendrils sifted through all the life in the vicinity, drinking every essence in until it was nigh indecipherable and simply noise. Throughout it all, no concise recollections of past life could be found.

One of the whispers increased in frequency until it was almost hissing in desperation, but its words were nothing more than a fractured calamity.

Attempting to sit up the creature found that it was restrained, physically weak limbs barely testing the strength of the bonds and once more it wondered why? Why was it strapped down? Why had the man begun to murmur such strange sounds? Its flesh tingled, and the being was unsure if that was normality or if it was something else entirely.

What am I? It asked, the telepathic voice monotone and completely devoid of the previous inhabitant. The way each word vibrated outwards in alien nature was as if it held all the knowledge of Galactic Basic without understanding the personal, human nuances of conversation. Who am I?

That same desperate whisper now screamed inside of the being's head but remained just as before, unintelligible.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Incantations rolling off his tongue unabated as the ritual progressed, he felt his telepathic tendrils sinking into the creature that had been Dorn; more precautions would be taken, of course, but this should at the very least alleviate any risk it posed to himself.

Voice tied up in the necessary incantations, Darth Prospero nonetheless projected his reply outwards.

"You are a conduit of power, my power. It is your purpose, the thing that gives your existence meaning." Telepathic voice strangely reassuring as he began to weave his web upon the husk's mind, he focused the entirety of his will upon the being before him, barely deigning to note that the Nautolan Acolyte had stepped back, watching what took place with a mixture of awe and envy.

"You are... nameless. You are unique and yet not. You are born of my will and an extension thereof. Rejoice, for few know purpose as you do."

Kiber Dorn​