The pulsing in the back of her skull and neck almost rivaled the pain in her side even as she stumbled further down the dingy alleyway. Rain had washed away the trail of blood she was leaving behind but it hadn't washed away the suffering that had preceded it. Verona Brasti felt her breath hitch as another surge of pain ran up her body when she shifted her footing to avoid a puddle, hissing and leaning against the wall she had been using to keep herself propped up during her limping stride away from the den.
It all seemed like a bad dream still. Waking up in some chair, spoken down to and enduring whatever the throbbing in her mind was until she suddenly found herself walking back to the den with one sentence echoing in her mind and a vibroblade in hand to do the deed. Her boss, a Gamorrean thug that had dipped into the slave trade once the spice market became too competitive, hadn't even seen the slice coming. Nor had any of the rest of his gang. Her former gang now she supposed. She couldn't count on one hand how many times they had pulled her unlucky rear out of trouble and how had she repaid them in the end?
The murder weapon itself had been left at scene of the crime but the rain had yet to fully wash off the blood that stained her hands and clothing. Her own was there as well of course but most of it was theirs. Her friends. Her family, even, if she was sentimental. And that damn triangle voice had told her to butcher them all. Sinners, it had said. Sinners that could only be redeemed in death's embrace. The worst part was she kind of believed it. It felt justifiable, it felt right. But she felt hollow now that the orders had been completed.
What was she supposed to do now? Crawl away and die in this wretched alley?
Verona sank to her knees and pressed her hand harder into her side, trying to steady her breathing as she rested her head against the wet duracrete wall. The crimson triangle still flickered in her vision, pulsing alongside her heartbeat it seemed, but no more commands came from it. Then she saw a figure standing at the end of the alley in front of her, a familiar one. The same figure that had swept her away from her apartment two weeks ago, still clad in the same cloak and mask. This time though he was wielding a wicked axe as he strode down the alleyway towards her.
She thought about screaming for help, getting up and running, or getting the vibroblade and making a stand, but she found herself too exhausted and pained to make an effort to do anything. All she could do was grimace as the figure drew ever closer, unbothered by the downpour and the puddles he passed through in his march towards her. She wracked her brain for some sort of plan despite the odd feeling of calm that had taken root in her mind, silently cursing it as it was blurring her thoughts.
But in that blurriness and foreign sentiment she heard something else. She squinted and gritted her teeth with the effort but she could most definitely feel something beyond that horrid triangle. Something dark and cold but open, at least at the moment. As the axe raised and her executioner loomed over her she found one word in a tongue that she didn't understand but one that she nonetheless seemed to know the meaning of and it quickly slipped from her lips as she raised a hand in protest.
" Xalone! "
Her executioner froze and the crimson triangle in her vision ceased its pulsing to glow brightly instead. A few moments of hesitation passed as the figure tapped on the side of his mask, seeming to listen to something as he lowered his axe. The next thing she knew dark spots swam in her vision, a gasp leaving her as she felt unconsciousness bloom from the throbbing in her head. She fell to the rain soaked ground despite her best efforts to ward off the darkness that was clouding her vision and thoughts, but slumber claimed her all the same.
Verona grunted as a bright light shone through her closed eyes, cracking them open in a squint to be met with what appeared to be a disgustingly well-lit medical room. Her lidded gaze drifted over the stark white room, broken only by the grey curtains that surrounded her medical bed. The humming and beeping of medical equipment began to filter through her ringing ears as she found the strength to stir slightly, glancing at her arms to see several tubes leading into her wrist. She jumped slightly as the curtain was pulled back, a pale woman in a dark robe looking her up and down for a moment before offering a small smile.
"Ah, you're finally awake." Verona was fairly certain that she'd never seen this woman before in her life but something about her was oddly familiar, even if she had a look in her eyes that set off her nerves a bit. The woman closed the curtain behind herself as she stepped closer, looking over the various machines that were arranged behind and around Verona's bed with a little hum before she looked back at the bedridden woman. "You seem to be making a swift recovery! You'll be fit to meet with our Prophet very soon."
She spoke almost cheerily, as though such a meeting was something to look forward to. Verona remained unconvinced and her rather blank expression must have given such a sentiment away. "I know this must all be fairly strange to you, but don't fret." The woman's smile didn't diminish, if anything it widened. Were her teeth sharp or was it just Verona's imagination? "You're very special, you have shown us something that we've never seen before! You're something of a miracle really. And I know only one being in this galaxy that can bring about miracles."
The solitary corridor appeared to be the last hall before salvation but walking down felt far more like the last steps taken before the execution block. The grinning woman with the piercing eyes that had greeted Verona when she awoke was still behind her now, silently urging her forward to meet with some apparent "prophet" which would give her the answer as to why she was here. There hadn't been any mention of how she had gotten here nor did her questions regarding the crimson triangle or the masked figure receive any answers to speak of.
All that the other woman kept telling her whenever she tried to ask something important was that "all would be revealed in time" or some other such nonsense. Verona was getting tired of the constant deflections so the past few minutes of walking between the two had been spent in a blissful silence aside from the woman's occasional humming. She couldn't name a single melody that came from the other woman but somehow each of them sounded so eerily familiar, not unlike the woman herself.
Finally they stood before the door at the end of the corridor, the woman's humming coming to an end as she sighed in relief. "Here we are, the Prophet awaits you inside." Verona rolled her eyes and simply nodded in response, eager to get this strange situation over with. The door opened and let her step through the threshold without issue, soon closing behind her just as quickly. The room was dark but the back wall was comprised almost entirely of a viewport that allowed light from passing ships and the distant stars to seep through to provide some basic sight.
Enough to illuminate the hooded figure that stood in the center of the room.
"Verona Brasti, welcome." Her heart stopped for a few moments, her eyes widening as her breath was stolen from her. It was that damn crimson triangle's voice! He was that voice! He was the one that had made her butcher her friends, that sent that masked freak after her, that had pulled her from her apartment and into this fresh hell. A flash of the crimson triangle in her vision made her wince and whine as a sudden headache silenced her rampant thoughts. "You have no filter in your mind, do you? Come, approach me."
Verona had taken a few steps forward before she even realized it, her very body seemingly hijacked by words alone. Words and an insistent prodding in the back of her mind that made her head throb whenever she remembered it was there at all. "Wh-What are you-" "Kneel." She grunted as her knees hit the cold metal floor below, her eyes fixed on the figure as He turned to face her. His mask glinted in the dim light, sharing it with the various other bits of armor peeking from the heavy robes that He wore.
"You've seen things that you shouldn't have, Verona. But this isn't your fault." He took a couple heavy steps to close the distance between them, looming over her like fear itself during a nightmare. "I simply need to know what it is you can see, that is all I ask of you." Gloved hands reached up to His mask, moving behind the sharp mandibles that jutted out from beneath the hood and producing a click that echoed in the otherwise silent room. The mask was pulled away but the dim light made no grand reveal of the face that it hid. Still, she could indeed see just enough of His face to make her own pale at the sight.
"What. Do. You. See?"
Verona's mouth opened and closed before she could manage any sound, lips stuttering long before any words escaped them. "P-Pale face with red tears, and red eyes." The unmasked Prophet hummed in response, the glowing crimson orbs briefly appearing amber for the smallest moment. "How...intriguing." Gloved hands cupped her cheeks as something stretched around from behind the figure's back. A pale tendril that gave off no light despite its translucent nature. It was soon joined by a handful of others, forming around her head like daggers readying themselves to skewer an unfortunate target.
"This link between us was only supposed to work one way Verona. It baffles me why you can see what you do." The pointed tendrils pressed against her head as her heart pounded in her ears, the hands and her own body forcing her to keep still as those crimson eyes bored into her soul no matter how much she wanted to look away. "Let's find out together, shall we?"
