Where Eina didn't believe in gods, nor thought of the Avatars as real, Zachariel was far different. For all intents and purposes, the entities he had faced, and one he had fought, were gods. They may not be the text book definition of gods, but how else could you describe creatures of unimaginable power? They weren't living creatures, came from realms ill understood, held the fealty of thousands, and had power next to none. They were gods, for they could shape all around them to their will, and had followers across the galaxy. But he knew Eina would never agree to that view of life, just as he would never agree to her views.
Still, they could trade words and verbal jabs, even if they would never see eye to eye. In a sense, Zachariel saw people like her as naive, for they refused what was true in the galaxy. And yet, Eina surprised him, and showed she was even more naive than expected. Her words illicited more laughter from the warlord, even as their battle continued.
"
No dear child..." His laughter interrupted his words, even as she rebuked him. "
So young and naive, tell me, how long have you been out of the Nether? Has Ingrid truly kept you cooped up in there for so long? It wouldn't surprise me, you young, naive thing."
He completely ignores her comment about respect, he'll address Ingrid as he pleases, especially when it annoys others. Besides, their secret status together afforded him freedom in that regard, something he would gladly abuse. However, seeing Eina as she was, Zachariel's grin remained. She didn't understand, couldn't yet, for she was too young for it. At his first words, she believed he had underestimated her. Perhaps now she would realize how false that was.
Meanwhile, where Zachariel faced Eina, the Chosen came under attack from another source, an unknown enemy. The door swung flung at them did knock them back, bowling over a few of their number and halting the others advance. Yet, as soon as the door had settled, they continued on, weapons raised to find any target. Advancing forward, those knocked over slowly rose to their feet, shoving the door to the side, bearing only a few superficial scrapes upon their armor.
In this time, they were struck once more, though by lightning this time. Bunched together as they were, the lightning spread out, even as they were pushed back. Claws in their boots extended, slamming home to keep them in place, as mag clamps wouldn't work here. However, here the similarities ended in their reactions. Yes, the Chosen were more standardized than most in the Bloodsworn, certainly more than the Maw, but they were each unique warriors. This was most reflected in their weapon choices, though their armor was similar. They had a base model, but each Chosen was unique, and many had protections against their metal adornments, or simply used other materials.
As such, though the lightning scorched their armor, only two of the Chosen were truly affected. And even then, they still lived, burnt and twisted beyond belief, but alive. By this point however, the Chosen had grown annoyed with a foe who wouldn't show themselves, and simply opened fire. Their advance continued as weapons fire shot in every direction, except towards Eina and Zachariel. Regular blaster bolts and heavy bolts flew, missiles were shot, grenades thrown, and other weapons were unleashed. Should a target be spotted, fire would be shifted towards it, but otherwise it was simple blanket fire that heralded their advance.
Their focus and direction remained steadfast, until Eina's Force Light took effect. For one eternal moment, the light activated, blinding them, before shades kicked in. But it wasn't the light that had stopped them, it was Zachariel's sudden roar. He himself had roared in sudden pain and fury, once the Force Light kicked in, blinding and bringing him pain. It wasn't physical pain, but spiritual, because it targeted his Dark Side. He may not consider himself a Sith Lord, nor was he particularly versed in the Force, but he was still connected to it. As such, being forcibly disconnected hurt him, even if he could fight on without any issues.
However, this didn't prevent Zachariel's snarl, nor did it dim the rage he felt then. Raising his blades to block any attacks coming towards him, Zachariel felt worse for wear. But it was pain, something he had dealt with his entire life. As Zachariel spoke then, voice a low growl, his Chosen turned once more, seeing their liege was perfectly fine for now.
"
A shame, it means you'll have to live as the gift." Natural senses flaring, Zachariel snarled once more. "
I think she would hate me for it, though your supposed allies may hate me more." Lurching forward into anything, he laughed as he spoke. "
You claim knowledge, little, naive Ingrid. Knowing something and experiencing it are very different. And you have never experienced anything for yourself. So, let me enlighten you to EVERYTHING!."
Anashja Tal
