A P E X
Location: Throne, Sinner's Well
Tag: [member="Darth Elyria"]
Even when all is lost, Pride remains.
The numerous battles of recent history had left a roadmap of scars upon their lives. Between the phantom agonies which plagued his body to the present and the deterioration of his apprentice's mental state...Sinner's Well had gone cold. Before Master and Apprentice were subject to the inferno of battle, the fortress had been a place of joyous escape. Though the Galaxy reared up against them, these stones would stand. These stones would offer the alabaster woman a place where she could truly rest in peace. These walls would offer the Sith Lord a chance to feel human - and to know what caring for another unconditionally felt like. Yet, after Kuat, the wintery woman was seldom home.
And Darth Metus fell.
The man was recently toeing the line when it came to the abyss. Though the Darkness was certainly his ally, he did not dive into the black depths with an open heart. For her sake, he restrained himself. He attempted to hold onto the fragile spirit that had saved him that stormy night on Coruscant. Yet, in his selfish urge to preserve a snapshot of the past, he also crippled himself. The exchange above Arkam was testiment of this fact - for now yet another demon had wormed its way into existence. Nameless. Primordial. The creature was ravenous and fed upon every shadow that the man created. Every battle was a sacrifice to her appetite. Every ounce of aggression, sweet nectar to her return.
He would not be the plaything of yet another deity. Akala herself was enough for several lifetimes. No. Above the troubled wheelworld, Darth Metus made a vow out of pure fury. A solemn promise that he would find the primordial woman and turn her world to dust. But. The question then became, how does one kill a God? During the Akala Crisis, the Celestial was ultimately felled by the Dagger of Mortis - but that was an artifact lost in the fighting. The Sith did not have the means to reforge the weapon capable of deicide...but he had been a Mandalorian long enough to know how to level the playing field. Even just a sliver. Thus, the man wasted no time in returning to the Forge, armed with a substance that he loathed to the core.
The end result was a simple longsword of amethyst hue. Sheathed in a resin-lined scabbard which rested in his hands. The work had been difficult, for years had spanned since he returned to the Forge. But, overall, his goal was achieved. Now, he had but to follow the trail left behind by the monstrosity. She claimed that apart of her was left inside him? Fine. He would follow that piece of primordial chaos back to its source. And for good or ill, he would silence it evermore. Nothing would rob him of his sovereignty or use him as a meal source. Not now, not ever. The hour was late when the Sith resolved to begin this voyage into the Deep. Though the Well was empty, precautions were taken in the event things went awry. His students - from both Exarchs to his recent understudies - had been given the means and a timetable to pull their Master back. Dead or alive.
And, with twelve hours on the clock, Darth Metus rose from his throne. His dominant hand stretched forth, commanding the same archaic powers that had banished Mirvak to the Netherworld. And by his will, reality fragmented before his eyes. The room about him became as...glass. Shimmering. Reflecting. Dazzling. And, when the invasion into her realm was complete, there was no longer carpet beneath his boots. But rather, a crystalline path adorned with glasslike formations. The heavens above were dark, yet also faintly everything which was beneath. The Sith stepped carefully forward, hand upon the pommel of his weapon. He had been to some wild corners of reality before, but never a Vault of Glass.