Public Revelation among the Ruins

[Darth Interitus]

The air was howling, yet no one spoke. How could the dead even speak? The winds kept persisting among the barren lifeless land. The black deserts surrounded by monuments, and citadels. Statues of idols, and beings long worshipped as gods, now long dead. Among the sands, among ruins were the rusted decayed remains of starships from ages ago, all around you swore that if you listened closely, you heard the voices of the dead that spoke in the language of the Sith, all the while the darkness caused lightning to crackle constantly throughout the sky, such as seen on Dromund Kass. This was the world of Exegol. The hidden world of the Sith, for a time it was the host of an ambitious plan that some said was to resurrect Darth Sidious a final time. To bring about his return, and ultimately the return of the Sith. He did indeed return, if only for a moment before he fell once more, while a great battle waged for the very soul of the galaxy. Here is where Darth Interitus had remained for many years.

He had remained on the lifeless world, to ponder the Sith, but also to have found a surviving sect of Sith Eternal cultists. Not Force Sensitive but devout followers of Sith idealogy. The mark of the Sith Eternal remained on his left wrist, and back of his shoulder. While he told them that he was Sith, he was questioned if he was part of the Empire. When he answered that he was not. He was allowed to remain among them. Confused by the reaction, many of them had kept observation on the galaxy. Many of which were wealthy men and women, some collectors of dark artifacts, some involved in major professions that shaped the very likes of the galaxy itself. Much of which the recent resurrection once saw hope in the Sith Empire, but have now seen that the Sith way has been ignored. Defiled some would say, as he heard studying among them. After so many years of studying the ancient Sith. The Sith thrived on conflict, of the weak over the strong. Some saw the current rule as a crumbling stagnation, due to recent events of the New Imperials breaking from the Empire and revolting, the Bryn roam the galaxy unchecked, the ancient enemies. The Jedi, the light they had so thought eclipsed, returned in full force. Striking at former territories long thought to be under the yoke of the Sith.

Never had this Empire skirted so close to disaster, to make matters worse the Sith Emperor retreated from the public eye. Weakness had started to infect the Sith, the Weak had taken the positions of the Strong. Unable to break the chains that held them down. Forgetting even the most fundamental belief of the Sith. Survival of the Fittest. A master that is too weak to hold the throne, does not deserve to remain, in fact, be it best to be destroyed, and replaced by one than wielded strength, then to hide behind the illusion of strength and the illusion that you had power. It was in these events that the Sith Eternal or those that called themselves such. Simply began to lose hope in the return to the true incarnation of the Sith. Interitus remained, dabbling in the dark side energies of the world, reveling in the secrets the cultists gave him, and he in return. Beneficial for the both of them, the cultists deemed Interitus finally worthy of visiting a sacred chamber that they had revered the most within the dark underbelly of the Citadel.

Within the darkness, past the towering statues, at least the decayed archaic remains of such statues. Led a chamber, littered with rubble, what stood forth in the middle of what Interitus could see. Was the remains of a jagged-edged form. Of what he could only assume was the rubble of the Sith Throne. While in actuality some may see it as nothing more than simply a chair made of stone material. The Sith had a special place for the throne, it was where those that had truly been a Dark Lord would sit upon, surrounded by followers eager for a rule that the Dark Lord would be over until the cycle repeated once more with someone stronger to take his place. Interitus stepped forward carefully, the man covered in dark robes, a mask that hid the toll of what dark side corruption would do to one's physical appearance after so long. He approached slowly to the ruins. Approaching as if he was cautious, as if the spirits of dead Sith Lords, would reach out, and take his body for his own.

He moved, each step felt as if it was pulling his body to the ground. Even after so long, these small broken pieces scattered around, and what was before him still held a strong presence in the Force. Getting closer, he slowly reached a hand out to touch the stone. Still fear had welled up in him, but nonetheless, he was determined to see what it felt like. When his hand touched the cold stone, he felt darkness flood around him. His sense of vision overwhelmed, so much so that the pure dark side energy was too much to even keep him from standing. All Interitus could do was try to control his breathing, his heart beating like a drum. Unable to move, the sheer force made him collapse unto the ground with a loud thud.

He awoke sometime later, his vision made him seem in a daze after such an encounter. He slowly rose up, his hand gripped to his head, as he felt that itself was splitting in two from it all. Yet when he regained his sight there were no broken pieces on the floor. There was no big wide empty arena, all around were hooded beings. Faces he could not see, as he heard them chanting in the ancient tongue of the Sith, while Lightning crackled, revealing the big mass of the dark forms that he was surrounded by. What he saw next shocked him. The throne fully restored, and a being sat forth, He looked to the throne, and saw what could only be described as the herald of death. A being who's flesh had been gone, stripped, nothing but what looked to hold some form, surrounded with dark trappings of the Sith. Possessing not a mouth, nor flesh he could speak with but a skull. As if the man, or whatever it was in front of him had no such use for a weak form. Within the skull's jaw, all he could see was bright red, a fire he supposed as what it was. The eyes still had the same fire, and it stared directly on his own. Interitus not even moving, if he wanted to, he couldn't the sight of the being had paralyzed him, it was as if awe had taken hold of him. But just as awe had taken root, so had fear kept his feet from even trying the attempt to move. The throne fully restored, while the cultists kept chanting. The being kept staring as it settled into the throne. Then with his gaze, a blazing inferno engulfed Interitus slowly, before it consumed him, darkness had taken hold, letting out a frightening scream that Interitus could attempt.

Spoiler: Vision

Inteitus awoke from the darkness, to find himself in the same empty arena, the cultists have so taken back that they themselves had retreated. While the Sith could hardly fathom what took place. After several minutes to ponder what took place, he stood up. Only then rationalizing that is was a vision of sorts. One that the Force itself gave to him. Who was that man? If he was a man at all? What did it all mean? Why or how was the throne restored? Burning questions as hot as the inferno that engulfed him in the vision remained. All the while, he remained shocked as he stood there, his eyes on the destroyed remains of the throne. For he asked himself in a quiet tone. "Was this the Sith'ari that was promised? Was this the darkness's answer to the weakness. Was this a new Dark Lord? I must seek it out, I have to leave!" He said in the fervent belief of what had taken place. Of what the Force was trying to tell him, that even boggled his mind. Yet he did not know, did not know if others would find him. If others would seek out the same thing that he had. For now he was given purpose, and it was to seek the meaning of this revelation among the ruins of this barren world, and to the stars beyond.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Sith Citadel, Exegol
Darth Interitus

The Sith Eternal had scattered away like rats returning to their holes in the walls. That's all they truly were anyway. He had lived amongst them for many years of his life, and they had always cowered around him. An actual Sith was rare to see here, although that had been changing rapidly as of late. Many had come to the citadel over the last few years for a variety of reasons, even Jedi, and Derleth had observed them all. He did not stop any would be traveler, as there was nothing left for Derleth here. They could do as they pleased with the cult, their labs, or their extensive catalogue of texts from the reign of Darth Sidious. Derleth had read them all.

Exegol was a memory that he thought would stay in the past. He had moved on to other sacred worlds of his people, to the Citadels on Ziost, Sepulcher, and the like. The ancient Sith had left so much that was still to be uncovered, yet he felt the force calling him back to this empty wasteland. He had not been the only one called to witness the visions of a new era. When he arrived another had been here already. The somewhat familiar face of Darth Interitus, another Sith Lord who stayed on Exegol. They had crossed paths briefly in the years that they both lived here, though the temple was massive and dark beyond belief. It was easy to not see someone for days, especially as Derleth spent all his time in his lab.

Where the cultists had scurried off, Derleth had remained in the shadows. He watched as his fellow Sith Lord experienced the vision.

“So you feel it too, Lord Interitus? I was afraid I would be the only one.” Derleth had received the vision of the coming Sith’ari only hours ago himself. He had determined it was the throne of Darth Sidious that had called him here. Only Darth Sidious did not sit upon the throne in the vision.

This was not the first prophetic vision he’d had. That day on Borosk when the Sith attacked he had seen visions of Bastion, of a burning Ravelin with the Sith Apostates standing over the flames. Oh how he had been wrong, for the Sith lay dead in the fires that day. He did not know how to interpret this new vision, in case he was wrong yet again.

“I do not know if this is the Sith’ari, but who else might sit on this throne?” A near god-like being had once sat here, raining lightning down upon the Jedi. Or so the cultists always said. Could the prophecy finally be coming true?

 

[Darth Interitus]

Interitus had remained bewildered by the sudden changes that had occurred around him, in that time he was unaware of another resident of Exogol's That of Derleth Par, rumor had it that he was one of those that eagerly pilgrimaged to Exogol in hopes to study the surrounding mysteries of Darth Sidious. Here he had seen Par work tirelessly at the studies the Emperor kept. Interitus too had studied what Par had to offer, for Interitus was often a great admirer of Sidious, and had hoped to follow in his footsteps by using galactic politics as a tool to achieve what others dared to, the likes of Unlimited power. Like all Sith before him, he had desires for power, for the desire to consume life itself and to carry the will of the universe within his very palm. The two Sith over time had seemed to become companions within one of the greatest sources of energy in this world.

His head was still splitting, as he placed his hand gently over his mask. Spending years in the dark world, he had grown in the dark side, yet intense energy of the Force Vision. The dark side of the world had sapped much of Interitus's own strength in return. Even in his thirties, the great power of the planet had drastically aged his appearance, and simply made the impact of such currents through the Force some getting used too. He sighed as he recovered Looking towards the likes of Par, the cultists were still remained on the entrance, as if they felt the intense energy, despite having no idea of what took place. Yet they still did not enter, nor dared to approach the two Sith.

When Par had spoken that he himself received the same vision. The face underneath the mask was astounded, surprised, and all the same excitement. It had seemed the Force itself was telling the two something, but what of it? He saw what appeared to be a dead man sitting upon the throne of the Sith, Was the Force offering hope? Was it giving him a sign on which to focus his aspirations and ambitions towards? Even Interitus was too overwhelmed by it all to answer such questions now. Despite the intense energy of the image, the Sith Lord felt the compulsion to follow the path the image was given. Something of which he hoped to share with his fellow Sith.

After a moment, he finally spoke, this time his tone sounded as if the man was excited. "Perhaps the pretender Carnifex's days are numbered. I was not among the Empire after my disastrous end as the overseer of Commenor, but I know of perhaps one.." He paused, thinking of one man that simply reassembled the image, not anyone he personally knew, but a man which had reached his ears. He spoke once more speaking the name, wondering if the Force was showing him the Sith'ari that was promised. "Kascalion, a man I've simply heard through the Sith Empire, I was able to read reports rumored to be some Sith are getting displeased with Carnifex. Perhaps we are not doomed to suffer the likes of him or his ilk. My friend, I do believe that this man is the key to the return of the Sith. For the old ways to begin again, not legion to one man. Instead, the way the Sith always have been should be. Strong, through those that are able to wield it. Only the strong shall rule."

He said, his voice overcome with emotion as if for so long he felt as if the Force had simply forsaken him, as if the darkness was to rule by a sinking ship of fools beholden to a Dark Lord that some seen as weak, now all he could do was a grin, and let out a laugh that echoed across the hollow chambers. "You see, at last, our time has come! If we wish to remake the Sith, we must destroy all those that seek blind obedience to one man, instead of power to itself. This is our chance, and it's through this man, this wound that we must seek out. He is the key to what we have long sought after."

Darth Vinaze

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Darth Interitus

"Do you know what happened the last time someone tried to leave the Sith Empire, to break away from the failing regime? They were crushed under the boots of the New Imperial war machine. They care not what Dark Lord a Sith swears fealty to... they only wish to snuff out our fire. I want to believe there is someone who can lead us in toppling the empires who would keep us down, but I have my doubts."

Derleth had been betrayed far too many times. In his upbringing he had witnessed the One Sith conquer the heart of the galaxy, and even when they fell the Sith arose once more like a phoenix. Yet now the flaming feathers of the mighty bird that once scorched the galaxy had gone cold. If the Sith were to ever conquer the galaxy again, they would need to kill the fallen phoenix of the Sith Empire. That was of course before it was buried by the Iron Sun.

"I want nothing more than to find this man, Kascalion you say? If he is indeed the prophesied herald of the Dark Side."

If the man in their shared vision would try and break free of the Sith Order, then Derleth would follow, but he could not kneel. He refused to bow to any lord until one finally seized the mantle of Dark Lord from the head of Darth Carnifex himself. He wanted no more broken promises, no more deaths for a false prophet...