You think you know me
You don't know shit
I've seen the world through your eyes
And it makes me sick
I question all of your answers
They're fucking lies
I won't conform to your system
I'd rather die
I burn it down
Just to watch it go
I burn it down
So everybody knows
I burn it down
Just to see it torched
I burn it down
I hate it to the core
It came without warning.
When the sun blazed highest over the holy world of Korriban it promised nothing but casting its fury on those below, promising nothing but a painful day of searing, cloudless heat. The engine glow of blazing traffic across the busy skyline of the bustling cityscape nothing stopped the proud denizens who called such an ancient, punishing world home. In recent years Vardin shined like a supernova, eclipsing the historic city of Dreshdae in nearly every way possible. Through the efforts of the King of Korriban, the world saw successes lost to it since the fall of the Tenth Sith Empire. Every day the city seemed to grow like a ravenous beast whose hunger could never be satisfied. It was an example of the shining utopia of what could be underneath the iron fisted rule of the Sith Order. Everything ran like a well-oiled machine driven by the guiding hand of its rulers shaping destiny one day at a time.
It was deep within the shining city that a seed of corruption grew like a festering plague, a virus building amidst the shadows. This came in the form of a towering ziggurat rising defiantly into the skyline, runes carved into four surfaces of this pyramid. The area surrounding it was leveled to isolate the structure from the city proper. It was an awe inspiring, intimidating sight to see from the surface. Traffic continuously shrouded this structure whose purpose remained a mystery to many. It was a major bastion of the Sepulchral, dark cultists who follow the Worm Emperor. They stood in direct opposition to the Corpse Emperor, to the Kainate, these mysterious cultists long lingered in the shadows their corruption spreading through the ranks of Eternalists to push for the inevitable return of their master. Their holy ziggurat was risen on a foundational plateau high above the surface, with four different stairs leading up to their holy temple.
Everything changed.
A fleet of dagger shaped battleships emerged from hyperspace so close it set off alarm signals deep within the King's Court. Such was their perfection, their technology there wasn't a single incident in their arrival. They arrived with a degree of precision even seasoned commanders struggled to achieve their formation sound. They looked like a spear of ships like wrath itself pointed directly at the world below. It happened so fast that before anyone even knew what was going on the gargantuan lead ship over five thousand meters long emerged from hyperspace firing. The hull of this black hued ship glowed as the beast of war belched its opening salvo down to the world below. For a few moments a people held its breath as the skies rained fire. To those who saw this ship and recognized it for what it was, their hearts sunk deep in their chest. To many it was the last thing they would ever see before complete and total annihilation. It brought the specter of death everywhere it went, unleashing wrath on a horrific scale. It was the Eternal Rule, Flagship of the Kainate.
But they hadn't come to raze the holy world with fire. They hadn't come to deliver some sort of painful reckoning to the King of Korriban and his bastion, no. When the fleet arrived, the ships surrounding Korriban barely moved from their defensive positions. The painful salvo raked across the towering black ziggurat deep in the city, the explosions sending up columns of fire and showering debris like falling rain. Each painful salvo came down hard raking the outside of this ziggurat like the claws of some monster that pounced on its dinner. Each hammering blow caused the ground of surrounding buildings to shake from its fury. As the destruction unfolded four groups of pyramid dropship descended through the skies at speeds that would've killed most men. They came down at a pace that baffled the mind right through the fire unleashed from their flagship. Each dropped into the vast clearing around the immense ziggurat in four different locations, like four separate hives that landed.
Out came death itself, living nightmares pulled from the deepest abyss.
Thousands upon thousands of Blackblade Guard emerged with tanks, armored carriers, and an uncountable amount of war droids. The most infamous group of butchers the galaxy had ever seen, the super soldiers synonymous with annihilation. All knew these angels of death and what it meant when they took the field. Tanks and artillery took the field in an immense blockade while a full legion marched from four different directions up the staircases. Each force accompanied by the infamous six-armed hunter killer droids that struck fear into the hearts of many. The pyramid was gored by the orbital strike, its defenses destroyed, and its reinforced exterior torn apart leaving gaping holes in many of its floors, exposing the blackened priest's corruption to the fury of the sun. But there would be nowhere to run not today. The cultists came to find their entire communications network jammed they were completely isolated within their bastion of worship, and once these dark armored soldiers broke the threshhold?
Blood ran thick like rivers as these butchers slaughtered everyone and everything. Room by room, hall by hall, floor by floor. It wasn't enough to merely kill the enemy and move on no, they butchered them like cattle, tearing them apart. The cultists of the Sepulchral were like insects burying themselves deep into the earth, secret tunnels spidering out in all directions. But even this wouldn't save them. Those who tried to escape would find Shikkari assassins reinforced by Blackblades at every exit. The cultists were so blind to their surroundings they hadn't noticed the soldiers marked with the sigil of the King of Korriban establishing a large blockade around their home, nor when the local government shut down their communications to isolate them from the outside world. The Blackblades pushed up and down, through the tunnels and back until they once more emerged from the structure. Every tunnel was collapsed. Once the soldiers cleared a safe distance from the ziggurat the tanks and artillery began firing in one glorious assault. What was left from the smoking heap of a temple collapsed in on itself into one immense pile of rubble, ceaselessly gored by the incoming fire. Once the smoke cleared the soldiers returned once more and hung bodies from the fallen cultists off the edges of the foundations, thousands of bodies ringing the immense foundation of the depraved as a grave warning to what was to come.
Deep within the darkness of the Eternal Rule atop a vast throne sat a gigantic figure. To those who knew him he had many names. The Elysian Grandeval Mortarch, Shadow Hand, the Lord of Lies, the Dark Lord of the Kainate himself. The image of a great lidless eye appeared before him, the hologram of AQUILA the ships malevolent AI. "Supreme Excellency, the operation is a resounding success. Scans report no life signs detected." AQUILA reported with a tinge of disappointment, it thrived on cruelty and death. The Dark Lord merely lit a cigar and tucked it between his lips. "Pull back all forces and contact Darth Caedes. Inform him that the Dyarchy would have words."
