In Search of Knowledge

[Darth Empyrean]

________________________________________________

The library of Bastion, a project Maliphant had been working on for some time after the inclusion of his own library and its outstanding collection. One of the various sections had already been completed, where he stood now as the rest of it was under construction; one of his first projects to expand on the Imperial government and Bastion’s center of control over the Galaxy as a whole. Licking his finger, he pressed another page aside as he continued reading the reprint of an otherwise ancient tome.

It had been a long term effort to bring back what was lost in the rise and fall of numerous sith empires, his raid on the One Sith archives one of the most outstanding recoveries of such that had been achieved in many years. His donation of it to the Imperial government was enough to bring some attention to him, helping to assert him as the current president of the library, helping to categorize the entirety of the knowledge leftover by the Sith through the eons. In reality, Maliphant spoke to the ancients through The Telos Holocron, which allowed him to fact check most of the documents left over, easily discerning between the fake and otherwise real that came into the facility.

Today was no different, idling over a pile of books, studying and learning all that he could; as the inheritor of The Sith, it was his duty to do such. For the government, and for himself; as the Imperial saying went, it was what he could do for his nation, not the other way around. Still, as the air grew colder, Maliphant glanced upwards to look around;

Something had changed.

Distantly, someone entered the library looking for something, unbeknownst to local authorities or Maliphant, only coming as a mere impression than anything real.

[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

Slowly, the intruder to the vast hall of knowledge that was the library of Bastion stepped ever closer to the only other individual within the massive chamber.

Slinking past the guards was easy enough, Enix simply had to wait for one of the guards to look away from where he was hiding for him to fold the space around his position and that behind the grand doors for him to teleport behind them, the Dark Side mist that was left behind fading into nothingness as the guard failed to notice it.

His intimidating mask concealing his face, his tough cloak draped over his immaculate yet terrifying robes, the Reborn carried onwards, observing all that was beneath him on the top level of the library, which he had chosen as to observe all the levels beneath him, making it easier for him to spot any others inside the library.

Stopping at a rather decorated bookshelf, Revan took a moment to browse its contents. Vast books that held more exaggerated poodoo rather than true knowledge, made so as to simply sell more copies or earn more interviews rather than to spread secrets to the reader, but still held some traces of truth, some power behind endless torrents of nonsense. But no; that was not what he had come here looking for, not what he had come here seeking.

The Revanchist had experienced a vision; a vision in which he beheld a tome that held secrets, powers, techniques, not hidden by the lies of greedy scholars; a vision granted to him through his powerful talent for precognition. Using the force, Revan had reached out to feel for the book, feeling two things: the book itself, and something else; something strong with the force.

Knocking himself from his short distraction and carrying onwards, Enix placed his hand on the railing, sliding it across as he did, as some kind of vain attempt to ground himself back in reality, back in the moment. Eyeing the sources of both the things he had felt, Revan took up a position directly behind the individual he witnessed holding the book he sought, looking down upon them from his high level. Retrieving a pair of electrobinoculars, the Master scanned the individual and the book.

Acknowledging to himself that that was the tome he was after, Enix took a moment to let his electrobinoculars drift upwards, up at the face of the one who held the book.

The face called to him, lured him closer, his left foot sliding along the immaculate marble to grow just an inch closer, just a closer peek.

Again, Enix had to ground himself in the moment, smacking his right hand onto his upper right thigh, as some kind of sensory notice to his brain to pay attention.

Placing his electrobinoculars back into their place in the small satchel on the back of his belt, Enix steeled himself for a fight, standing up on the railings and jumping down, landing gracefully behind the man and the text he held. Quickly standing upright, tall above the smaller man, Enix spoke. "Hello there.", he said, his left hand outstretched towards the man, as if ready to accept something being handed to him, his right hand placed conveniently close to the lightsaber on his belt. "The tome, please."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Slowly moving to stand, Maliphant closed the book and set it on the table behind him, resting a hand on it as if to ensure its safety. Turning back around, he offered the obvious Revan look alike with a cock of his brow; far taller than not only his ancestor, but even the projection he knew of within The Telos Holocron. Even still, he could feel the harsh intent wafting off the Sith in droves, forcing Maliphant to tug his own lightsaber from its belt clip and size his opponent up. Eventually, he settled on the mask before speaking;

“I don’t believe that’s happening.”, he said as he lurched forward to test Enix’s defenses, the invisible lightsaber surprisingly already ignited despite being completely invisible.

“It's my duty-”, Maliphant said as another few testing strikes strung themselves forward to get a feel for the Revanite’s speed and reflexes.

“- to protect-”, another jab, stab, and flurry that ensured the two were at distance, his own Niman specialization taking a hefty presence in those crowning moments before he struck once more;

“-Sith knowledge.”, he said as he separated from him, regardless if he struck the Revanite or not.

“If you’re looking to steal such, then you’ll simply have to face me.”, he said with a glimmer of a smile, lowering himself for actual combat. It was tradition for lightsaber duelists to toy with one another in the beginning, test one another to see just how capable they were, and Maliphant could tell this Revan-Knock-Off was well versed.

“What’s your name, Sith?”, he said as he waited for a strike.

[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

Silently, Enix watched as the Sith stood up, his placing of the book back onto the table meaning only one thing; he had no intention of handing it over. His outstretched hand curling into a fist as it fell back down to his side, the leather scraping and screeching against itself. His right hand quickly wrapped around the hilt of his lightsaber, though he did not yet remove it from his belt. The second the man's hand reached down to his own hilt, Enix pulled the lightsaber from his clip, entering a defensive position, but still keeping his blade sheathed, a common tactic used by duelists.

As the man spoke, he lunged forward, as if he was attacking with his lightsaber hilt, but his blade was still sheathed. Instinctively, Enix ignited his lightsaber, it's purple blade crackling with the power of the crystal within, and placed it in the path of his opponent's swing, although he did not expect any contact to be made. As his blade made contact with another, however, the Reborn quickly reached out with the force and sensed his enemies lightsaber; an extremely rare type, using a ghostfire crystal, found only in small amounts on very few worlds in the Outer Rim. Creating almost no sound, and even less of a presence to the eye, the crystals are the perfect type to be used for dueling sabers.

Easily deflecting away the white-haired Sith's testing strikes, Enix used this 'testing' phase of the duel to grow more accustomed to the invisible blade, focusing on the hilt and predicting where the blade will be.

The Revanite listened carefully as his opponent spoke, studying his every word, dissecting them to absorb his personality. To those not well versed in lightsaber combat, conversation during these life and death scenarios would seem insane. As a testament to the will of those who participate in these deadly combats, these morbid conversations have become engrained within the culture of force-users.

As his blade clashed again with the Sith's, the standard 'opportunity of the impatient' appeared. He could strike down the Sith in an instant, the mere flick of his wrist was all he needed to end the duel permanently, but as this is lightsaber combat, the Sith would slay him as well. Patience is the greatest virtue to hold in a lightsaber duel, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Using another vision by his battle precognition, Enix deflected a trio of strikes with a single swooping motion of his lightsaber, his long study of Makashi being used in his favor.

Then, his enemy asked a question; an interesting question given the circumstances.

"Revan.", he said, watching as his opponent entered a defensive stance, indicating it was his 'turn' to attack. Giving himself more time to plan his attack, letting his enemy stir in his discomfort. "What is yours?", he spoke, his lightsaber twirling between his fingers, a fancy display meant more for presentation rather than actual dueling, but used nonetheless.

Using Vaapad to his full advantage, Enix began a torrent of powerful attacks, a trio of slashes at the neck, and a close jab at the heart. Twirling away from his enemy, creating another distance between them, his left hand dropping from is hilt. Flexing the muscles in his free arm, he felt the force energy build up, drifting towards his hand. Preparing to end the duel, the Reborn built up a massive flux of force energy in his palm, in order to unleash it on his opponent in a powerful display of force lightning.

Relenting at the last moment, Enix drew the energy back into him, both hands grasping his hilt once more.

"I wonder if they'll ever recover your body after I burn you and this library to the ground.", he said, entering a defensive Form V stance. Though the words pained him to say, he realized that in the end, it would be necessary to destroy all the texts contained here. Enix could not allow this Sith Empire to grow any more powerful, for they would be only an obstacle to his future plans.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As the two seperated for the moment, Maliphant simply shook his head in a dismissive manner. Perhaps the Revanite thought himself a master, but all that initial stage of combat did was give a false sense of arrogance; something taught to him by Revan himself. Lowering himself down to a Niman stance, Maliphant looked Enix over again before speaking;

“Revan? A shame you don’t have the confidence to claim your own identity.”, he said with a cruel grin.

It was only then that Maliphant seemed to move towards a more serious pressure; his fighting stance taking on something more refined, yet carnal. The lightsaber in his hand began to surge as the force energies around them became fuel for its power, a whirlpool forming around him as the pressure began to increase, only for the Sith to launch himself forward, snapping the stone beneath his heel as his dash came towards the revanite; yet instead of an immediate strike as it seemed he was doing with the directional slash of the lightsaber, it never sought to connect. Instead a telekinetic strike from his free hand, powered by Revan’s own draw on the force, broke free from his grasp aimed directly at Enix’s feet.

Just enough to upset his balance before the strike brought back around slam the lightsaber back into Enix’s ribcage, easily cutting the traditional fighter in half instantly; thought it wasn’t the end. Pulling from his training from innumerable Sith Lords, Maliphant brought his leg up in a twisting follow up that sent it rocking towards the Sith’s thigh with the force to snap durasteel, let alone the traditional bone; only after did he speak.

“I can’t imagine they’ll be finding anything of the sort, especially after I turn you into the Saaraishash.”, he beamed.

[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

As they separated, Revan once more eyed up his opponent, assuming a Makashi defensive stance to counter his enemy's more primal stance and standing sideways, his left arm facing his opponent with his hand outstretched, and his lightsaber hilt held close enough to his face that he could feel the heat, even through the mask.

"I'm more Revan than you know, Sith.", he spat, his mouth almost mocking the word Sith.

Preparing to easily knock aside his opponent's attack, Enix brought his saber down in order to meet its rival, but in his ignorance, Enix failed to perceive the building up of force energy around the man as anything more than just waves of force energy flowing around them. As the blast from the shorter man hit his feet, Enix's stance was made unbalanced, his right leg remaining firmly dug into the tiles, but his left leg being pushed behind his other.

As the attack of the Sith continued, his lightsaber sweep continuing to swirl until its point sought to dig deep into Revan's chest, his own lightsaber too far away to react in time.

Building up telekinetic energy in his left hand, and placing it in the path of the lightsaber's point, the Revanite's powerful proficiency with tutaminis to deflect the powerful strike away from him with only his hand.

While the blocking of his enemy's lightsaber had considerably slowed down his momentum, the subsequent kick that smashed into his right thigh brought a sickening crack, as the middle of the femoral shaft snapped in half. Sliding backward across the tiles, breaking underneath him as he did, the Revanite assumed a Form VI defensive stance, leaning heavily on his left leg, placing his right leg in front of the other.

"You are nothing but an obstacle in my path. Your persistence will only prolong your death.", he said, quickly biting down on his tongue as those painful words etched out of his throat. Though it took immense willpower, Enix remained still and stoic, though his leg pained him more than describable.

"You could be something much more, but here you are. You will die nothing more than another slave to your perceived freedom."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Having met Revan through The Telos Holocron, Maliphant had his doubts about the authenticity of the man before him. Sure, he had a mask that looked vaguely like Revan’s, even held two lightsabers though he didn’t use them, but there was a distinct difference between the two no matter how much the broken psyche in front of him wanted to admit it; forcing his voice to come out in a near mocking tone,

“Hate to spill it to you, ‘Revan’, but you died.”, he said as he glanced to the now snapped femur of the Dark Jedi.

“Its a shame you came back for a sequel.”, Maliphant said with a dangerous, predatory grin as his own electrum colored eyes fell on the Revanite.

Once more he rushed forward with the augmented speed of the force to assist him, though not to the same degree it had before. No snapping of tile was left in his wake as he lurched forward for another strike, though this one held far more power in the initial strike, swinging around to build pressure before slamming it directly in an upward slash directed towards Enix’s waist, once again something that would kill a normal man. The invisible blade was difficult to track, leaving an illusionary image in the force as it was swung, something taken full advantage of as Maliphant quickly brought it back around to lay out a lightning fast flurry.

Whether the first strike hit, he used its momentum to switch into a Juyo form, quickly following in the steps of his opponent and offering a small flurry of strikes at a blinding pace. One, two, three - Seven strikes in the matter of a second struck outwards, two to his left flank, three to his right flank, and another two towards his head; a skill he learned from arguably the greatest duelist in history, that of Darth Sidious himself.

Maliphant was not the average Sith, this was soon to become obvious. He was not the product of the academies, but the bending a psyche more dangerous than the galaxy knew. He was a brainwashed fool, but a fool with enough ambition to become a God. What Enix faced now was the fledgling body of said god, and how he dealt with it would determine much of their future.


[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

"If you think that his death was the end of Revan, then you know nothing.", he said, his left hand returning to his side, and reemerging with a lightsaber drawn and ignited, a red to match his paired purple.

When it came to Jar'kai, Enix was possibly one of the greatest dual-wielders in the Galaxy, having mastered the art of wielding two blades as one, with each representing a different side of the force by the style of their attacks and defense, almost a symbolic representation of Enix himself. As the emboldened Sith lunged at him once more, Enix used his second saber to bat away his enemy's first strike, but this did nothing to slow his momentum, as a flurry of nigh-invisible slashes came.

With each attack that came, Revan deflected it away, the screeching of plasma on plasma echoing throughout the vast halls, as they drew apart, clashed, drew apart, and clashed again. With each strike, though he achieved no direct hits on Enix, he slowly retreated, as he stepped back more and more. The immense amount of concentration needed to both fight an invisible blade and manage a Jar'kai-Vaapad defense, Enix could do nothing but bite down on his tongue, blood trickled from the bite marks down his throat, as it began to swell.

However, the Sith had unwittingly given Enix a cursed blessing, as with every powerful wince of pain he felt, as did his power with the force, and using his dual sabers and Force speed, launched a counter-attack, ignoring the pain of his leg and instead focusing on destroying his opponent. Launching a flurry of simultaneous attacks, both violently ferocious and brutally aggressive, seeming almost primal and unplanned, but in actuality, each move was lethally precise, using the Sith's own saber to hold him down while the blade to his side wounded him.

He did not need a single death blow, a single finishing strike. Just as a rancor might toy with their prey before eating it, Enix aimed only for grazes and cuts. The simple shiim, the minute wound by only the tip of a lightsaber, combined with surgical precision, could easily take down any opponent. Just as almost 900 years ago, Count Dooku defeated Obi-wan Kenobi by applying a shiim to his arm and leg, so too could such a small attack do so much damage.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

While a shiim was dangerous, the pressure imparted by the near mastery of Niman mixed with innumerable forms throughout put Enix at a disadvantage, though one that unknowingly filled Maliphant with arrogance; watching as the slimmed strike slid across his shoulder, singing flesh and burning a hole through his robes before he grimaced and ducked beneath the lightsaber that had caught him originally, while the other struck towards his side. It was a narrow escape, but one that he did so with some finesse, bringing his blade around once more in a mid strike to Enix’s waist, his stance off to the Revanite’s left.

The truth of it was, as Enix drew further on the force, the draining effects of the blade only compounded the speed and ferocity Maliphant was capable of, keeping him on par with the superior duelist at an almost astonishing rate. It was true that Maliphant was not the greatest duelist in any category, at least not yet, but where he failed to make up in straight combat experience was a near apex level of understanding in the form of creation known as Sith Alchemy, and the lightsaber he held was one such object. Its gluttony knew no bounds as all the force in the area became a singularity in the hilt of the blade, pressing Maliphant further and further through the waves of darkness and to a near blistering speed not often seen in a duellist of any level.

Yet despite the raw amount of energy he was taking in, the armor he wore did not allow for large scale uses of the force. It drained Maliphant of his own personal energy, acting as a weighted training vest that pulled away over eighty percent of his force potential for the sake of training, to ensure he was always capable of defense should worse come to wear and he was cut off from The Force. The lightsaber was simply the first form of his training, and one he excelled at, yet the wound Enix had made seemed to heal, flesh growing liquid like and patting over itself as it brought the minor wound to an immaculate finish, as though it had never been there at all; the secret power of the armor he wore now.

Maliphant didn’t commit to Force Powers because he simply was not able to bring out the truth depth of his power, and knew that his only hope in maintaining the fight was his dedication and trust in his lightsaber, that of Levicitus, the ghostsaber. While it swung around to Enix’s waist, likely to catch at least one of the blades, Maliphant once against brought his legs into the fight by sending another force imbued strike directly at the side of Revan’s knee, once more in the hopes of snapping the leg he now put weight on; all in the hopes of ending the fight earlier.

If it went on too long, if he took too many wounds, the armor he wore would become more a hindrance than a saving grace; leaving him without the healing factor it imparted, and lacking the strength of his force prowess.

[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

This fight was, to say the least, one of the longest that Enix had ever fought. Typically by now, his opponents would be headless on the ground or crying out in pain from a dozen shiims while in cuffs, but this one was persistent. By some alchemical properties or ancient Sith magic ritual, the wound he had inflicted on the Sith had simply healed.

His battle precognition saving him the shame of defeat and a substantial amount of pain, Enix performed a notable move he had used to defeat an enemy almost a decade earlier. As his right and primary lightsaber blocked the Sith's feign of a waist-strike, the sabers making that signature shrill noise as their blades locked in a feud of strength, the red lightsaber held in his left hand dropped to the floor, as his hand snapped forward through the force, seeking to wrap his arm around the leg of the Sith in the attack he had foreseen, closing his stance to make the forceful kick overshoot.

At the same time feigning weakness in the clash of his purple lightsaber in his right hand, allowing his opponent to quickly dedicate more strength towards the clash if they decided to push their advantage, and dropping the lightsaber from his hand just as his left arm wrapped around his opponent's leg, and allowing the Sith's hilt to surge forward, Enix bringing his hand down fast on the extensor and abductor tendons in the wrist, a classic disarming move used by unarmed Jedi to take down lightsaber-wielding opponents.

Aiming to capitalize on these attacks if they succeeded, Enix finally headbutted his opponent with his beskar mask and brought his right hand to grasp their neck, propelling himself forward through the force, the tiles underneath his left and still healthy leg forward, aiming to smash the Sith through the bookcase that their duel had moved beside.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

While Maliphant certainly expected his opponent to block his lightsaber strike, he didn’t exactly expect him to drop the lightsabers in favor of grappling him. Off balanced, and in a disadvantageous position, Maliphant was at the whim of his opponent for a moment as; remembering only the slam of the beskar to his forehead before being thrown through the nearby bookcase, toppling it with his weight.

As he regained consciousness, only a split second of darkness tainting his vision, he watched as blood trickled down his forehead before slowly begin healed; through something had changed in the Sith. Despite the metaphysical weight of his armor, and the severe dampening it had on his force potential, something brewed inside the Sith that Enix could very likely see. Perhaps he could not recognize it, but within the Sith stirred the remnants of an artifact that had destroyed planets, teleported entire armies and star systems through time, and wrought the destruction of entire races;

All of this undefined, but a barely contained maelstrom within The Sith as he gritted his teeth. Maliphant was a very capable fighter, often containing his hate, anger, emotions, bringing them out in controlled bursts to amplify his power; but there were times that the otherwise inexperienced Sith lacked control, and these were those moments. Dark Side corruption began to show its face in his features as the veins around his eyes grew darker, while his skin grew a more pale grey, all topped by the golden eyes of the Sith turning more vibrant, almost glowing.

In the same moment, Maliphant lurched forward far faster than he had the first time, taking in the entirety of the strength the artifact gave him through his training armor, moving far faster than the human eye could comprehend to an almost ‘teleporting’ level, though his movement was there, only to form itself in the ball of his hand. It all happened far to quick, but as a nearly visible concentration of the force was held within Maliphant’s grasp, it sent like a low hook towards Enix’s stomach;

And as it went off, the air around the two sent outwards a painful shockwave that tore at exposed skin and offered nothing but the deafening boom of power unrelenting, bursting through the seams of The Force with enough energy to slide Maliphant backwards a number of meters as he began to breath heavy; a dangerously costly force ability, especially overcoming the might of his training armor.


[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

Through the grapple, Enix had sent himself smashing through the bookcase along with Maliphant, sending him tumbling across the floor for a few moments as they separated, landing mere meters apart.

Grasping his femur with both of his hands after a rather heavy tome fell onto his shin, sending a pulling force all the way up his leg to that point, Enix could only reach out with the force and his senses and feel something unnerving.

The former Jedi and Sith had defeated a dozen masters of both sides, either through the force or the blade, and among those ranks, Enix had faced some who were truly terrifying wielders of the force, rending entire platoons of hardened soldiers dead or dying in seconds. But whatever he sensed in the Sith as he lay there was too powerful to even compare to the masters he had faced. Whatever it was, it wasn't the Knight he faced, was it? He could sense his opponent's power with the force, but this was unprecedented. No, it wasn't him, it was something... inside him?

Enix had little time to comprehend the source of the powers, quickly standing up at the same time as his enemy, using the force to retrieve his lightsabers and creating a powerful defense. Through his battle precognition, Revan could sense that his enemy would attempt to strike with all of his power in the form of a punch at his center mass. Putting his crossed lightsabers in the path of the man's fist, Enix could only watch as the sheer amount of force given to him by the artifact smashed through his lightsabers, leaving his fist unharmed as the force exited his palm, whatever thin bubble of energy keeping it together rending asunder in an instant.

As his cloak snapped violently backward, the cloth of the lower portion of his robes even tearing at the lowest points, in less than a second afterward Enix was sent flying through the air, landing hard on his back upon the highest floor of the library, the same level he had originally been on before he jumped down. Quickly knocking the air out of him, Enix lay sprawled on the floor, gasping for air, as his voice synthesizer created a strange electronic noise that sounded more like a buzzsaw on a metal bar than the breaths of life Revan was taking.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As the smoke cleared, and the Dark Jedi lay a few dozen meters away, Maliphant took in breath like fish out of water, looking for it as a child looks for its mother. Heavy, thick draws of breath that never seemed to be enough as he dropped to a knee; still unable to control not only his own rampant power, but that of The Darkstaff within him, draining him in his entirety for the moment. The armor he held worked against him during the strike, forcing him to not only overcome the Revanite’s defences, but the very nature of the training suit, the main reason Enix still lived. Over eighty percent of his power was exhausted in simply overpowering his own creation, now seemingly smoking, undulating, rippling in the excess Dark Side energy that it had consumed during the strike.

His gaze looked down to his palm, that had been mostly protected during the strike. It saved him from snapping bones, but the fact of the matter was that two lightsabers had singed the skin, showing careless amounts of muscle and gore; but the armor’s desperate attempts at healing him offered him at least some relief as the skin grew back before his eyes. It’d be a few moments before it fully fixed the wound however. A bruise was beginning to form, running down from the burns to his elbow, instant punishment for losing control in the middle of the battle; something he often promised himself he wouldn't do.

Sighing, Maliphant slowly stood once more, still recovering from the strike as he moved to the stairs, slowly bringing himself to the level Enix had dropped down from originally, a noticeable trek for a man who nearly killed a Master of the Force with a single gut punch. He could feel it in his legs, the weight of his arms, and his ears as the distant cries and screams of people began to fall in after the explosion that had taken place. Much of the books would likely have to be looked over for damages, and no doubt anyone within the vicinity some medical treatment for hearing damage; as the shockwave had already travelled a kilometer from the epicenter with little to offer but pain and property damage.

As Maliphant finally made it to where Revan lay, he glanced over the prostrated man with some sympathy before shaking his head and speaking;

“You still alive, ‘Revan’?”, the name coming out more sarcastic. Still, the question showed some signs of sympathy for the man who only a moment ago was convinced of victory.


[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

Rolling over from his back onto his front as air once more refilled his lungs and his gasping stopped, Enix could still feel the massive amounts of Dark Side energy residue within the area, plaguing his vision and mind. Forcing himself up and onto his knees, still leaning heavily on his left, his palms still holding up the front of his body.

Hearing the voice of the Sith behind him, Revan instinctively prepared to retrieve the two lightsabers that lay idle beside him, but hesitated, sensing the sarcasm in his voice, but also the traces of sympathy.

As he moved to take another breath and speak, Enix coughed and choked, feeling the mask holding back whatever resided in his throat. Tearing the beskar mask off and placing it at his side, he opened his mouth and let loose a small torrent of blood, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, the cuts and bite marks inflicted by himself via his teeth dripping the crimson liquid. Coughing as remnants of the blood remained in his throat, blood splatted around the now forming puddle of blood, or joined it.

Collapsing to the side of the pool of blood facing the Sith and wiping his mouth on his glove, Enix finally spoke in peace.

"Yes.", the Revanite said, now lacking the intimidation of his voice synthesizer, but his voice nonetheless carrying considerable authority. "Do you plan on changing that?"

As Revan no longer wore his mask, instead it sitting beside him and the pool of blood, Enix reaches up, pulling his hood further over his face.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Not yet.”, he said as he moved forward, his movements far slower than they were before. Exhaustion tore at his muscles, but he had experienced worse; his record for training thus far was 105 hours straight under the true Revan, something he was moderately proud about.

His steps did lack the certainty they had before however, his bruised, almost mangled arm hanging limp besides him as he stepped forward, using his other to somehow support it by the shoulder. Every moment he continued on, more damage seemed to come out of the woodworks; and he realized that the physical conditioning he had been doing thus far simply wasn’t enough for his mortal body to handle what it should. It disappointed him, if nothing else, that despite all he had done there was still the limitation of the mortal coil; something he could likely alleviate by working on imbuing his body with The Force during such exertions.

Sighing however, he spoke once more, kneeling down a small distance from the Revanchist;

“You’re skilled, I don’t deny that, but what purpose do you have attacking the library? Join The Sith, and I could simply give you a copy of the book.”, he said with a shake of his head.

“Fight for it, and I’ll fight harder. I’m not even the most powerful of the order, something to mind.”

[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

"Not the most powerful anymore,", Enix replied, "But to be fair, that wasn't exactly you."

"Whatever it was that stopped me from killing you and taking that book is the same reason that I don't try it again. No point in dying here, when there is so much work to be done.", he said, straightening himself up more and sitting up against the railings.

Enix had come so far just for a vision, only to lose it at the last moment. He had been on the verge of victory, his opponent was dazed and defeated on the floor, disarmed. But whatever he held inside himself, whatever used them as nothing more than a host, had saved him.

"Besides, it's complicated, more than you know."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“So you think.”, he responded, partially because he knew there was something in him he couldn’t quite control, but didn’t understand the depth of it; only theories.

“It seems every Sith in the galaxy has it ‘complicated’. I wouldn’t assume yourself so different.”, he said once more in a vaguely mocking tone.

Maliphant moved to stand completely once more before shaking his head, his armor working as hard as possible to bring his arm back to fully working condition; but he could still feel how sore it was. The depth of the damage wasn’t known yet, but it would very likely not be permanent, only a severe annoyance until the bruises were pulled from his muscle through the strength of The Dark Side. He groaned beneath his breath before turning back to Enix;

“If you still intend to leave, I’d do so quickly. The sound of that last strike is likely to alert the local authorities, if not the Saaraishash. They’ll be here soon, and I doubt they’ll be so forgiving.”, he said with a shake of his head.

“Besides, I’d like to fight you again, when you aren’t so cowardly.”, Maliphant ended with a mixture of brutal honesty, and obvious sarcasm.


[member="Enix"]

 

[Vio]

Reaching over and placing the mask back on his face, Enix adjusted his hood and pulled himself back up, using the railing to balance himself. "Then I'll depart quickly,", he said, holding his hands out and pulling his lightsabers back into his hands, and placing them on his belt. "With the book, that is."

Holding his hand out, Enix tightened his fist, squeezing the force around him and around the table on which the book still sat, folding space and teleporting in front of it, leaving behind a cloud of dark mist.

Placing his hand over the book which he had fought, Enix lifted it and examined the cover. Simplistic, a reprint of another Ancient Tome, but the force wouldn't send him visions of this specific text if there was not something special about it. Placing it in a pocket of his heavy cloak, Enix teleported once more, this time behind the very door which he first teleported through in order to enter the building. Turning around, Enix found that he was lucky to have teleported so close behind the door, as he watched about a dozen guards surge forward, closing in on the sound. Turning back to the doors that now lay open, Enix walked out into the streets of Bastion, the dark night sky clouded by dark storm clouds, as drops of rain slowly began plinking against his mask.

Walking quickly back to the alley where a speeder bike was stored, with coordinates back to his ship already inputted. Rotating the speeder back down the thin alleyway he had come from to avoid the wider streets, Enix turned around for a final time, glancing at two dark-robed individuals ran up the steps of the library.

Pushing his foot down onto the pedal, the speeder roared to life, engine accelerating as the Revanite escaped into the stormy night.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]