Stagnant Shadows - Prologue

[Darth Eversor]

- Bastion -​

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851 ABY

Observation of Acolytes

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The future of the Sith Empire, the new blood that would fuel the war machine for a new generation of the dedicated and stubborn. Hubris... a thing remembered quite well by Abraxas, an after thought leading to a realization that any escape was futile, hopeless.​

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These able, expendable assets did not have a conscience. They were not self-aware in the sense that they could not truly decide for themselves, instead being lured with pretenses of gain and a cause. ​

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Abraxas paced to and fro, analyzing everything that the Acolytes practiced. A wrong move there, an inch or two shy of correct posture and stance - irritation welled within the chest of the disgraced Epicanthix. His right hand hovered over the pommel of his lightsaber, chills ran up his spine, and the faint metallic taste of sanguine taunted his addiction for strife. ​

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No... their incompetence could be corrected. Death was not always the answer.​

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...Yet death truly was the answer for all. ​

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For now, conflict was something that could wait. Abraxas had other matters to address.​

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There is no escape, no redemption.​

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There is no escape...​

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There is nothing... ​