Private A Meeting of Snakes

[Darth Callidus]

Location: Denab | Bastion of Shadows Throne Room
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr

The throne room of the palace on Denab was a masterpiece of malice and dominance. Walls of polished obsidian reflected faint crimson glimmers from towering banners, their dark fabric emblazoned with arcane sigils of the Sith Order. High above, the balconies of the first floor loomed, their edges shrouded in shadows that concealed silent sentinels. Behind the great throne, a mural of the Sith emblem, carved into the very stone, radiated an ominous red light, casting its glow across the chamber like the heartbeat of the Dark Side itself.

Darth Callidus sat upon the throne, her posture one of calculated grace and undeniable authority. Her amber eyes burned like twin suns beneath the cold mask of her detachment, their light casting a chilling gaze over the empty chamber. One gloved hand rested lazily on the throne's armrest, while the other absently traced an invisible pattern on the polished surface. She waited, the air around her heavy with a palpable sense of anticipation and danger.

The silence was broken by the measured steps of an approaching Evocati Legionary, their crimson armor gleaming faintly in the chamber's light. The soldier, bearing the mark of Callidus's personal guard, approached the throne and knelt with disciplined precision.

"My Lord," the legionary said, their voice firm but reverent, "your guest has arrived and awaits your summons."

For a moment, Callidus did not respond, letting the silence stretch. Then, with a subtle motion of her hand, she gestured for the soldier to rise. Her voice, smooth as velvet yet edged with unyielding command, echoed through the hall.

"Bring them before me."

The legionary stood, bowing deeply before turning on their heel to carry out her command. As their footsteps retreated, Darth Callidus leaned back into the throne, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. The shadows seemed to pulse in rhythm with her anticipation, as if the palace itself awaited the arrival of the one summoned to stand before the Crimson Throne.

She did not rise. She did not need to. The Dark Side coursed through her veins, and all who entered her presence would feel its weight bearing down upon them like a storm.

The doors would open soon, and she would see if her guest could withstand the judgment of her gaze.