The bunker door slid open with little effort, and Asterion pulled back his cowl over a thick mane of hair; if ever he looked a wild beast it was now. He walked down the steel corridor and turned left into his room – the makeshift armoury now cleared to make space for him to sleep, eat, read and exercise. Kneeling by his thin quilt on the floor, Asterion picked up the two lightsabers – his own and his former Masters.
There was nothing else he needed – he came here with nothing and would leave with nothing. He could return in time, and he would continue being nothing if that was the case.
Moving out, he reached the small stairwell leading up the surface but stopped in his tracks and took the white hilt of the departed Lady Kyros in his hand. Left to him after her passing, it was a memento of the past, of the Order that had ultimately abandoned him when he gave so much to serve them. He returned to the armoury and his quilt, and placed it gently on the pillow where he had slept for years. It would stay here, with his memories and his failures. Should he fail once more, he would return and hold it to remind himself of what he really was.
Leaving the bunker minutes after, a powerful pull of Force energy sealed the blast doors and he kicked up a small wave of snow to cover the door, looking like just another disused mine hidden by rock, snow and rotting fauna.
The cowl came up and he followed the lights from Nimue’s ship, guiding the way to something he didn’t know what, but he would be foolish to ignore it. She was still there, with her guards, waiting for him.
"Give me time, and I will discover myself again if you believe in me. Lead on, Empress."
[member="Nimue Stormson"]
