Resurgence

[Darth Prazutis]

Deep Space, War Fleet Leviathan, Unknown World
In Orbit…

War.

The galaxy was locked into a crucible of war with the Sith Empire at its center. The unstoppable Sith-Imperial war machine faced and destroyed every challenge that stood in its way. It was during the Great Galactic War that saw the Dominion, Free Worlds Coalition, Commenor Systems Alliance and Galactic Alliance all destroyed utterly and the war won with a decisive victory. It was the Rule of Order that united the great empire, their unique structure promoting upward mobility and unity of those both force sensitive and not, as well as a crack down on the treasonous nature among their own ranks. The Rule of Order was a resounding success and it showed that the new Sith-Imperials had a willingness to adapt. For the wars to come they would welcome all tools at their disposal, every beast of war and most of all…

Rage.

No one epitomized rage more than the infamous Kezeroth the Hateful, the Avatar of Rage, Vessel of Fury, Spawn of Hellfire, the Walking Apocalypse. Some called him a mad dog of the sith unleashed upon an enemy, but others knew better. The gen’dai Lord of the Sith held a malefic intellect behind the cold, dead eyes of a butcher. After over two thousand years of unchecked fury Kezeroth’s only flaw was that shared with other gen’dai. It was insanity. It was memories that made the Hateful prone to bouts of psychosis making him at times entirely unstable. It was a problem he continued to deal with throughout his brutal warpath. But alas even the formidable Kezeroth wasn’t entirely invincible, and with time he too was felled, cast down from the material plane. Many sighed in relief at his passing while others cursed the death of a valuable asset to the Sitb.

But death was never the end.

Even now when one as powerful as the Lord of Lies reached into the spiritual world if one knew where to look, they could see that Kezeroth wasn’t entirely gone. There were events throughout the years during wars that became especially bloody, violent, or destructive. Once a certain threshold of carnage was achieved it was recorded by survivors that a crimson mist descended. A figure or some sort of hulking creature was engulfed in the mist and what came out was a roaring, screeching psychotic nightmare, a beast whose eyes burned a deep red. It slaughtered with utter impunity until the battle ended or until enough damage had been sustained. The carnage that unfolded when the mists came were absolutely unspeakable, horrific tragedies that made even the most formidable warriors nauseous. They had no idea…

It was Kezeroth.

If his spirit still held a tenuous grasp on the material plane then it could be called, if it could be invoked then it could be bound. If it could be bound? Kezeroth could return to the land of the living. A populated world in the far reaches of deep space was chosen as the guinea pig. It’s small navy was easily oblitered by the vastness of War Fleet Leviathan that stood at five hundred and eighty four ships strong. Deep inside the halls of the Goliath II the Shadow Hand moved in full battle dress, surrounded by a full escort of Crownguard. “AQUILA Is everything prepared?” The Shadow Hand asked.

“Yes your excellency. The pod bearing the preserved clone body has been loaded onto your personal shuttle.” AQUILA’s deep, mechanical, demonic voice boomed.

“Inform High Warlord Malgrog to begin the slaughter. For the plan to work the carnage needs to be intense. The flames of war must burn brightly across the spiritual realm.” He ordered. Not that the God-Splitter needed to be told twice about carnage. The Jen’Lazea were some of the most barbaric butchers to ever trudge across the empty vastness of space. If anyone could draw the Avatar of Rage’s spirit, it was them.

A vast wave of ships descended from the colossal war fleet and they brought fire. Plumes of orange glowed as the massive wave of starfighters, bombers, and ships in low orbit unleashed bombardments upon the planets surface. The carriers bearing the graug hordes were dropped right into the thick of it, and blood began to flow.

It wouldn’t be long now.

[member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]

 

[Boggo Flib]

Hate never died.

Within the depths of Chaos itself spanning across fields of blood and blades alike. Hate remained. Festering and unresolved. Like a virus it grew to infect the masses around it. Spirit or flesh, It had no preference. Even in death a titans wrath was wrought down across the ancient silhouettes of dark jedi and sith lords. Their numerous crimson gazes reflecting a red mist saturating the vast groupings of mortals that now called the Netherworld a home. The Rancidus Order. After the events of the Alaka and the portals she tore open. The Fabric of reality itself had been wounded through sheer will of force and nothing had remained the same. Since the beginning of time itself there had been order to the spiritual planes of the Netherworld and now that order had been fractured, allowing mere mortals to walk the planes of oblivion before their allotted time.

Jealousy.

There was a reason the revenants, wraiths and ghosts of old sith lords and other sections of darksiders hated this new addition to the netherworld. These mortals. It was unnatural. Against everything they knew but most of all. They hated the giant that the mortals followed. The titan. A red giant and inferno of anger. Even in death his spirit held power over the physical plane when the galaxy was in peril and often it was. In life the titan had many titles. The Hateful, The Malevolent, The Beholder. It mattered not what name you sought to say. The name remained. Kezeroth.

Twin red suns blazed with ecstatic life. A dancing fire as foreign winds of bloodlust touched its blaze. A fresh new smell was on the horizon of the Field of blades leaking in from Unknown Regions of real-space itself. Like a the greater canyon krayt slumbering beneath sands to stalk its prey, so too did Kezeroth as his eternal gaze stretched past the spiritual plane and into the chaos that was suddenly smitten on a nameless world. Not that a name mattered. The carnage, death, despair, desolation and chaos was enough of a name in itself. A moth to a flame the spirit of the rage filled Gen'dai began to stir naturally. Feeding on the destruction and waste laid lands that torn people apart or completely eviscerated their form completely from existence.

A tremor shook the spirit plane. A savage growl honed in primal instinct. He craved for it.

There was more than enough violence and savagery to temporarily transcend this pit! This plane of chaos and descend apon a physical one. It was not permitted for such a feat to take place. To bend the rules of death and yet its permit had nothing to do with the why behind Kezeroths intended actions. He did it because he has to, becasue he is compelled to engage. To see the worlds burn in the fires that found solace in his minds eyes and exact his wrath. To express his rage!!

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The mind of the angered enticed screamed for release. Echoing across currents of darkside energy.​

Freedom...for now. ​

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A warmth arose forming around the bodies of those in combat. Hacking, slashing and frantically weaving a path through young and old. The innocents. Fuel all of it was fuel! Faint mists of red hue began to materialize over various groupings of graug in their relentless assaults. It only intensified from there. Thickening like a fog, closing in on the mind and collecting together. Like swamp muck it formed a massive translucent silhouette with the same twin red runs caught blaze where eyes would should of been. A scarlet flow up heaved from the sentients around it, humanoid and graug alike. Falling into a frenzy they clawed at each other as if to reject the now palpable spouts of anger they had been inflicted with. The sheer intensity.

It didnt matter what side they were on. None of it mattered in the end.

Storming across the battlefield with a graceful and terrorizing display of speed the red giant began to carve his way toward more worth while opponents. His form knocking aside those caught in his way and knocking them aside with brute force. Every now and then the pop of bone sounded out with each impact. This is what it meant to live and be free.

Little did Kezeroth know this was entire scene. Destruction and death included was all for him specifically.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]

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[Darth Prazutis]

War.

The entire planet burned as the hordes of the Jen'Lazea the Dark Legion destroyed everything their vile presence touched. Blood ran so thick it carried over the smell of guns, over the smell of fire and burning flesh. In some areas the copper twang was so thick it was nauseating, crippling for any civilized human to simply be in the area of. All across the battlefields they chanted, jeered, shrieked, howled and roared. Sadistic laughter rang out into the air as the sounds of screaming artillery shells and strafing fighters flew through the air. Over it all? The chants. The harrowing chants were rhythmic, powerful. A deafening thrum that boomed like the sound of an impossibly loud orchestra. Over the top of it all one of the dominant chants that spread for miles, and miles was translated from their language into...

War and Death
War and Death
War and Death

In the epicenter of it all atop the staging point for the invasion, overlooking the massive command center of the Jen'Lazea, a towering creation of dark iron blended into deep trenches and tunnels wove beneath the surface, stood the Shadow Hand. A great platform overlooking the battlefield below was surrounded by a full wall of the crimson armored Crownguard, a shield system protected the platform while an auxiliary power source was plugged into a computer terminal, monitoring the gen'dai body, an attendant stood manning the console.

"Your Supreme Excellency. The specimen is in perfect condition." The attendant said. He only received a firm nod however from the Lord of Lies as his eyes scanned the vastness of the battlefield. Unlike mortal eyes they saw far beyond the material plane. What was once orbs of sulfuric gray the colors changed, a mixture of a pale green and black as pitch. It was the vision of an outer entity, a creature from beyond the veil, cosmic power. Through his new eyes..through Uthax'ra's eyes he could pierce the veil, he could see the immaterial and the many realms of the netherworld floating just above their own. The force ebbed and flowed its power reduced to currents before his very eyes, he could see its ley lines of power. But what he was looking for...

The Hateful.

It was an explosion where the fighting was thickest. The rise of a great crimson giant the color of freshly spilt blood. Kezeroth was wrath made manifest...without a body he clung defiantly to this realm and he became more of a force of nature than an actual material being. A roar...a howl across the nether as he unleashed blind fury, a fraction of his full rage as everything he touched died. Graug, Human it didn't matter what they were. In the gen'dai's world they existed and they moved, that was enough. "There he is...prepare. This will be violent." The Shadow Hand said, as his hands began to move in intricate patterns, while a black speech cut loose from his lips. A thick, baleful green smog began to surround the spirit of Kezeroth before quite suddenly spectral chains struck out from it. In stark defiance of natural law they restrained his form, ripping on it in an excruciatingly painful way. But to defy natural law for someone like Kezeroth was never easy...the words of power boomed over the entire battlefield, the black maelstrom of power that was the Shadow Hand stood openly....

[member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]

 

[Boggo Flib]

What was this?

Chains?

Bound!?

Who would karking dare bind...

Refuting with a titans strength the vaporous mist of blood red hues came to a dead stop after tendril like chains seemed to appear from a foggy dark cloud. It was behind Kezeroth. Wrapping, latching and twisting into ethereal "flesh". His very soul as one could say. Although the visage and appearance of the Gen'dai was not truly real in the physical world, His hate bound presence in the spiritual was and if pain was being felt now then this threat was more real than the giant knew. The internal flames of rage ignited bursting forth into an inferno. This was only after Kezeroth realized what was happening. Few had the knowledge to bind force ghosts and sith spirits.

A Sith...[member="Darth Prazutis"]

The phrase wrecked the titans mind with fresh memories of a long and forgotten past. Pulling in resistance and defying his spectral mental pains the Gen'dai spirit moved back slightly causing the ground to physically give way and dent into the ground with a scrape. Dirt under toe moved as if a real foot had been placed, digging into the ground for better traction and footing. " Sith." His voice echoed in the great mists as he spat out the phrase with malevolence and utter hatred. In this ghostly form the Sith Lords spirit knew only a fraction, a sliver of his full potential even still he was managing to resist... for now.

Again he shrieked and wailed out with a scream riding of the currents of the force once more. Gaining traction the titan gritted his non-existant teeth and began to pull. Pull against the oppression that bound him in a attempt to discover who dared try such a ritual on him. He was like a Bull Bantha in heat. Wild and untamed.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Fury.

The Lord of Lies could feel the gaze of the deceased Sith Lord turn on him the rage burned so hot, so deep his very skin nearly burned just from the Sith Spirit's gaze upon it. A pride beneath the surface of the once great gen'dai ensured that any attempts at ensnaring him would be met with violence, extreme violence. It was like trying to put a leash on an apex predator, and the response was an explosion of violence. Wild, untamed and unchecked the Dark Titan watched as Kezeroth the Hateful charged towards him, a blood curdling roar on his lips. Kezeroth was a one man army, the brutality of war manifest into one singular physical being. This sith spirit in particular would not go quietly, he was the mbodiment of ferocity, the savagery of the Sith.

The Walking Armageddon met the Lord of Lies.

Uncompromising the Mountain ripped on the restraints closing them around the charging spirit hard, but that didn't stop him from turning anything between he and his quarry into a crimson paste, a stain on the ground. "Kezeroth. You are needed in this life. You will stand before me." He bellowed through the spiritual realm, the eldritch power of the Lord of Lies seeped out like a rolling fog, a rapidly spreading virus. He stepped back as he tightened his grip on the restraints, moving carefully back while he spoke the dark incantations. He would attempt to cause Kezeroth to charge right into his own clone body, launch him right inside his fresh, new form. The rage was such that nothing he could say, could placate him now. actions would speak louder than words.

[member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]

 

[Boggo Flib]

Lifted from the physical ground he had so desperately anchored himself into the spirit of the Gen'dai fell into a variety of shapes and forms. Pulled through space, time and other realms the mind could not understand. Not fully. Through the pain, agony and anger Kezeroth felt the driven to destroy was what had kept him going. He was a fighter and if this Sith wanted a fight he was going to get one. Assuming the worst possible outcome the Gen'dais specter braced itself for what was thought to be a binding ritual to none other than a Sith lord. His warcry filled the span of space between the two in till it no longer could.

Vapors, smokes and twisted energy collided with a burst of power into a body. The transition was needless to say. Rough. The body showed no signs of life yet. The pinkish skin tone began to shift into hues of darker red as if blood stained the muscle and nerve. Coated with wrath itself. A twitch. Jerk of the left arm from sinister electric jolts. Twin orbs blazed open apon the fresh alien body. The eyes oh how they reflected the intent of that the red giant had within. Pure violence. The substance of life was foreign to the newly resurrected monster. In anger he questioned the new reality in front of him within the tank he was now entombed in.

" Who are you. What illusion is this!" In some amusement his fist thumped against the glass causing the tank to fracture slightly in the middle and then light a mass of speeders in traffic every sensory perception slammed into his mind. The humming of the ship, the bubbling of water within the tank, the beating of every single heart beat within the the room, The feeling of breaths being inhaled and exhaled. The smallest details stabbed his mental like a dagger driving him into a state of extreme irritation.

This was no illusion.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]