HEAD OF THE SNAKE
BLACKFANG - THE (NEW) JEDI vol. II
Issue #4 - Crisis on Cato Neimodia
Dagon Kaze
Halketh
His saber came down, batting away the defendant's own parry beneath his gravity bound strike. Though it mattered little as he plunged the second plasmatic beam right through Caelitus' sternum. His teeth were bared, his pants heavy as he stared into the emotionless eyes of the Shadow Hand, searching for any sign of life. Any sign, so that he might
continue cleaving him to pieces. In the space of a blink, the illusion faded, the illusionary image fading with a ripple as vile gnashing teeth appeared before him. Its adornments making it clear that it too, had once been a Jedi.
Frozen, the scent of burning decay assailed his nostrils, invading them with its almost poisonous stench. "
Wha-? N-no..." His eyes flickered over the reanimated corpse, trying to find a shred of truth in this world of magic tricks. Deep within, even as the clawing arms reaching for him were answered with another severance the spinal column and a sickening crash of limbs, he felt betrayal. Years and years training his own senses, only to be betrayed by them here, like this. In the one event that he'd needed them most.
To end the suffering.
He wasn't strong enough to see through the illusions himself.
The storm surrounding him was oppressive, breathtaking at times. It left little room to do much else but to draw inward, to search for the secure walls of ones self and to throw them up. But how was he to cower? To fail? How could he allow himself reprieve from the violence when people depended on him? Personally? Unlikely. He was no famous Jedi. But the idea that was their Order was still depended on, no matter what the Senate sought to claim.
Through the aphotic depths of the Dark Side, he could sense the raven-haired Knight draw closer. He waded deeper. He could not wait for the Jedi Knight. Resolved to drain the Shadow Hand of whatever magickz they had while he could, he knew it'd be of benefit to Dagon when he arrived.
The walls shifted another time, admitting three more shapes into his corridor. Or brought him into theirs, it made no difference.
All identical in appearance.
But their auric presences differed, enough to cause the temperature to drop. To raise bent and knelt hairs to stand at attention on those same raised parts of flesh where the goosebumps laid. He could feel it assailing his first layers of skin and flesh, as if it were trying to seep into him and lock him in place.
It's Him.
But which of them?
Suppressing the abrupt need to quite literally retch from the burdensome presence alone, he raised his blades, dark lids closing just briefly.
The storm says move.
But the rock does not.
The mantra that he'd repeated a thousand times his focus. His brows pressed together, and he felt, rather than saw the attack. Opening his eyes just in time to see the springing trio assault him, he took steps back. His blades looped in and between as he made the last-second decisions to block or deflect one mortality dealing attack, so that he might suffer a lesser blow. Coruscating light flashed as he maneuvered, consciously avoiding the inevitable position of being entrapped between the three.
He'd lurch out with a kick at ones knee, body twisting to avoid a slash that'd cleave him, but felt the burn as another burned across his abdomen. His acute senses quickly picking up on his own burnt flesh as he fought. Another would find themselves shoved backwards, two fingers raising from a flourishing blade as it released a metaphysical shove that'd send the body crashing into a stone wall.
"
You will not turn me into a puppet," he said with steeled resolve. The sound of warbling blades crashing into each other was familiar, comforting to the warrior's ears. As every swipe, slash, or stab found purchase on his body, or even his opponents, he accepted it with warm affection.
Knowing that his death was imminent, it was solely a point of delaying it. Of turning his body into such an unusable mass of flesh that he'd not be reanimated and turned against those who'd become his friends.
"
I die free!"