Private To be or not to be...Infected

[Darth Immortuos]

Location: Tython, Akar Tsis, Temple
Objective: Contemplate.
Tag: Onrai

The dim light of the chamber casts long shadows across the ornate throne room, illuminating the figure cloaked in darkness. His tattered robes billow around him like the shroud of night itself, concealing his identity from prying eyes. With silent steps, he approaches the imposing throne that stands as a symbol of authority and dominion. Gazing upon the opulent seat of power, the figure feels a surge of disdain rising within him. How many times has he witnessed the folly of those who sought to claim such lofty titles, only to be consumed by their own hubris? The pursuit of power, he muses, is a game played by fools who think they can win, a never-ending cycle of ambition and betrayal. And yet, here he stands, drawn to the idea of the throne, nevermind the fact that he himself had a throne, THe mere concept of wanting what others had was still strong enough to remain in him. Or was it him? The Sickness was there also but inside and apart of his psyche. His motivations were not driven by the same base desires that fuel his fellow Sith Lords. For him, power is but a means to an end, a tool to be wielded and power Immortuos had in spades. Knowledge, wisdom and so much more he had spent his life attaining and now that he had it there was only the endless hunger left to consume life around him.

To infect...

 

[Onrai]

"No."

The shadowed form of Onrai had trailed over to Immortuos. She was not unaware of the level of physical corruption the man in question had undergone - the necrotic features he possessed were nearly identical to the those of the malevolent lich-kings of Rhand, of the most foreboding regions of Korriban, and elsewhere within the galaxy. That said, unlike the wraiths who were bound to the undying husks of their flesh, this Immortuos was something far worse - a creature forged of the malevolent rituals of Darth Drear. And where the Sickness, the malevolent corrupting cocktail known as Blackwing was to be found, meant only one thing: the touch of Mnggal-Mnggal.

Onrai was a foe of the pangalactic cancer. She had bombarded the planet of Mugg Fallow into ashes to destroy almost all of Mnggal-Mnggal's essence there, before executing its remainder courtesy of a ritual that had, initially, been interrupted by no less than Valery Noble herself. The malevolent monstrosity had attempted to rear its ugly head during Onrai's trip with Sinestra to the Infernal Gate in the depths of the Abyss of Ruh, only for its phlegmatic essence to have been cast into the unlivable heat of a star somewhere off in the void. The creature was essentially unkillable, since it could survive on almost any world and polluted so much of creation that there was a sub-zero chance of ever purging him.

"I know the ancient rituals and invocations to Ubbo-Sithla. There will be no spreading of your taint here, Old One." She said cautiously, unsure as to what exactly Immortuos was - was he already a hollowed-out shell that the pernicious primordial had yet hollowed out into a husk, or did it still yet possess a true semblance of its original consciousness?

It was no matter. She would do what she could either way.

Darth Immortuos

 

[Darth Immortuos]

"I know the ancient rituals and invocations to Ubbo-Sithla. There will be no spreading of your taint here, Old One." She said cautiously, unsure as to what exactly Immortuos was - was he already a hollowed-out shell that the pernicious primordial had yet hollowed out into a husk, or did it still yet possess a true semblance of its original consciousness?

It was no matter. She would do what she could either way.

What? Immortuos made no movement and had no outside reaction to this sudden comment, but his thoughts briefly shifted from their current path to a string of different ones. Who or whatever this is, They cannot hear my thoughts. No that would not be possible. No this is something else. No matter how decayed or degraded by the darkside Immortuos was, he was still Epicanthix. A fact that he had almost forgotten for a moment. He considered himself a new creature now and it was true. There was no one else like him, save the dead.

There was a silence in the chamber before awareness extended to his corrupted body. The mass collective that was The Sickness stirred in his psyche and also, very briefly, inside him apon the utterance of this woman or entities sudden words. I do not know this being? Who or whatever they were, it was now overly apparent that someone's cards were not fully on the table and yet the current cards shown were enough to hint at a familiarity.

But not with me.

" Old one.... Mmm. I've held many titles and have been called many things, but Old One is not yet among them. So tell me cloistered one, Tell me of these ecstatic beliefs and rites you think you know." The Lord of Decay turned around to face his accuser. Looking the ghastly shadowy form up and down some before tilting his head with interest.

Onrai

 

[Onrai]

"Do you not know what is bound with you?" Onrai asked him, standing before the necrotic husk of the Sith Lord whose putrefaction was evident beyond compare. "A sliver of an infernal galactic abomination that has reaped the harvest of life across a thousand worlds. Worshipped by some, feared by most. Mekal, the cancer god. Or as he is more widely known, Mnggal-Mnggal." She continued to observe Immortuos with suspicion and caution. If any of the Sickness had escaped him and spread into the environment, it could lurk indefinitely. And if that happened, it was possible to trigger an infection on Tython of unimaginable proportions, one that could potentially render all life on the world extinct and render all her efforts on this planet fruitless.

"How have you maintained your individuality without having been hollowed out into a husk by the spawn of the Soulworm that gnaws at you?" She asked, curious whether there actually was an individual mind behind Immortuos, or whether the lich-form before her was merely a puppet of a much greater and much more perverse evil than any Sith Lord could ever hope to be.

Darth Immortuos

 

[Darth Immortuos]

"Do you not know what is bound with you?" Onrai asked him, standing before the necrotic husk of the Sith Lord whose putrefaction was evident beyond compare. "A sliver of an infernal galactic abomination that has reaped the harvest of life across a thousand worlds. Worshipped by some, feared by most. Mekal, the cancer god. Or as he is more widely known, Mnggal-Mnggal."

The first question Immortuos took as mere rhetoric. What is bound with me? Death incarnate and with it immortality. Nulgath answered in his mind but did nothing to verbalize his response. He did however respond to the other comment stated. " Do you think that low of me? Just because I choose appear to look like this?" he jested and flashed a wide toothy smile. " You speak of gods and desolation, but what is a god." he asked and shrugged. A question to a question. Rhetoric for rhetoric.

" I admit it is strange to me to hear you refer to The Sickness as its own entity. I know of the myths and they are exactly that to me. You see it differently I presume?" He asked and then thought about it briefly. The shadowed figure posed a rational assessment despite the histories Immortuos waved as myths and legend. Though being able to communicate and directly control the infected in the galaxy was evidence enough. The infected had always bade his will and were rarely left to their own devices. Immortuos had always held control.

"How have you maintained your individuality without having been hollowed out into a husk by the spawn of the Soulworm that gnaws at you?"

At this Immortuos stiffened and let his smile fade. For as much as he joked and jested about his power, unnatural longevity and immense knowledge. There was one thing that he feared. He had read of it and he had almost fell victim to. To be assimilated by his own doing. Oblivion. Even now his memories replayed the moment when he initiated Drears ritual several decades ago and felt the black fluid flow through his being in an attempt to take him over. In the end it failed and still that mere prospect was enough to bring a shred of humanity out of Immortuos.

The red orbs that were his eyes leveled to this shadowed figure Onrai in a squint. Where she showed caution he now did as well. " Ive been obsessed, smitten, bewitched and taken by many things. The Sickness is not one of them. What obsession does the Sickness have over you? Tell me this and I will answer your question." A cerebral barrier of paranoia prompted his response. He needed to know more before anything else happened.

 

[Onrai]

"You would not be the first he has taken, and you would not be the last." Onrai said cryptically. Yes, Mnggal-Mnggal had claimed the lives of innumerable beings over the years. The Viis Empire. Chiss. Humans. Tribals. Nobles, and at least one Rakatan Over-Predor. Well, and the crew of the Star Destroyer Vector, and the Sith at the Odacer-Faustin academy, some wildlife on Dathomir.., and much much more, when the synthetic summons were taken into account. "Mnggal-Mnggal is no myth, as one who has spoken to the all-consuming one can attest to." Even now, the words that the creature had spoke came to her mind, a message radiated to the necromantic one who stood before her spoken in the tongue of a voice that may yet have been familiar.

How mockingly you come, "mother," phagic of your own spawn. The devourer seeks to devour the devourer, the consumer of all life whose appetite cannot be whet even by consumption of myself? Have you freed Athla'giroth from the impunity of his prison on Plawal, or unbound the dimensional chains of Lotek'k? Do you seek the sisters of the Queen of Ranroon, or the pathway to Oozultharoum? You know that your actions will never cease the grand galactic feast. All will be consumed in time.

"Mnggal-Mnggal is a blight, a cancer unleashed by the infusion of what can best be termed the 'greater darkness.' While that which the Sith control, the 'lesser darkness,' can be tamed, the 'greater darkness' can only be supplicated to - and even then, in time, it will turn on those who bend the knee to it and consume, pervert, or destroy them as it does to all the rest. I have seen such with my own eyes, and it is for that reason that my plans are, objectively, different from those of the more conventional Sith within the Empire." She was clear with her explanation, though perhaps the inquiry about the 'greater darkness' would raise even more questions.

Darth Immortuos

 

[Darth Immortuos]

How mockingly you come, "mother," phagic of your own spawn. The devourer seeks to devour the devourer, the consumer of all life whose appetite cannot be whet even by consumption of myself? Have you freed Athla'giroth from the impunity of his prison on Plawal, or unbound the dimensional chains of Lotek'k? Do you seek the sisters of the Queen of Ranroon, or the pathway to Oozultharoum? You know that your actions will never cease the grand galactic feast. All will be consumed in time.

This was rather foreign to Immortuos. The words he heard and listened to but little of them made sense. He felt as if he was, for the first time, lacking context for this except the last portion. You know that your actions will never cease the grand galactic feast. All will be consumed in time. Those last phrases were enjoy to bring the The Sickness within him a feeling of satisfaction. A sensation he came to understand by his own body suddenly getting a rush of euphoria like the first time he engaged in the ritual to harness The Sickness. The Sith Lord reveled in the feeling and shook his head and then shoulders as to shake off a chill.

"Mnggal-Mnggal is a blight, a cancer unleashed by the infusion of what can best be termed the 'greater darkness.' While that which the Sith control, the 'lesser darkness,' can be tamed, the 'greater darkness' can only be supplicated to - and even then, in time, it will turn on those who bend the knee to it and consume, pervert, or destroy them as it does to all the rest. I have seen such with my own eyes, and it is for that reason that my plans are, objectively, different from those of the more conventional Sith within the Empire." She was clear with her explanation, though perhaps the inquiry about the 'greater darkness' would raise even more questions.

This being was claiming to of spoken with the "avatar" of the Sickness, but Immortuos could not bring himself to understand why this would be allowed to occur. As she continued Nulgath could not help but feel repelled by it all. He did not trust the shadowy female near him especially after what she just got done explaining. Especially if it meant her plans would directly get in the way of his own.

Not sure how to respond to her claims and experiences with The Sickness, Immortuos popped his jaw twice and decided to answer her original question and show her his own experience of the Sickness. " I followed Darth Drears ritual to the line and then more so. Drear and the later Darth Scabrous fell into the trap of being unprepared and wanting immortality for the sake of power. They lacked a greater purpose." He paused briefly and licked his non-existent lips. " When I engaged in the ritual I knew it would save my life and thus my bloodline. My very family was in danger of being murdered, So I preformed the ritual to ensure security. I lacked the same ingredient that the sith of old did. The still-beating heart of a powerful force wielder. For two days I barely postponed the Sickness from assimilating me while I searched for a suitable donor. I could not find one that would give me enough time. I had no time." Immortuos stepped closer to Onrai some. " I remain in control, because I murdered my wife and ate her heart so my family could live." He said then looked away to the distance. His eyes became unfocused and distant. Part emotional and also something else. Suddenly he let out a short but high pitched cry as if he was calling out to something.

And from the shadows of the Throne room, what appeared to be a decaying infected humanoid of some kind, entered the chamber out of a distant hallway in a shambling jog and responded back to the call with his own high pitched cry. It was not alone. Along with it came two more infected in the same manner. The Lord of Decay glanced past Onrai and toward the infected behind her and then back to her again. He knew the infected would do nothing unless he commanded it and he wanted this shadowed female to witness it. " In this game of lesser and greater darkness. I wonder where I fall in the mix of your... objectively.. different plans."

 

[Onrai]

Darth Immortuos

Onrai did something that she otherwise never did in response to the necromantic Sith's explanation for what she had done: she blinked. The shadow actually momentarily covered up the ivory orbs of her eyes, the only distinct feature outside of the indistinct features her face and form possessed. She was genuinely shocked at the Sith's logic, that to save his family and offer them security, he had not only performed a ritual dedicated to supplicating such a foul and profane construct - but had also sacrificed his own wife and eaten here heart in order to defend them. This was true behavior of one who had, knowingly or unknowingly, dedicated himself to the foulspawn that were the Ancient Ones.

"Was it worth it?" Onrai asked, a surprisingly simple question. "You live a tormentuous, undead existence. Your flesh is irrecoverably corrupt, not preserved for eternity as Drear's ritual was intended to promise. If you had sought to live forever as the ancient lich-kings of Rhand yet do, or perhaps as the most ancient practitioners of ukûbokum did - such as Andeddu or Sion - you wouldn't have to have touched a piece of the greater darkness to achieve the immortality and power you so desired. By sacrificing your wife, you also compromised the integrity of your original intent - to keep her and your children safe. Perhaps that is why you haven't been fully devoured by Mnggal-Mnggal - it feeds off the anguish and despair of the things you've done even more than it does your skin and bones." That was what she knew from the briefest time she had touched the primordial's mind, a horror she, to say the least, very much desired never to repeat again.

"I can help you, you know." She said, even as the revenants in question came into the temple - a threat that made the tiny sliver of mortal inside her panic. "If these infected corpses spread the taint of Mekal here in the temple, that will practically behead the leadership of the Empire and everything everyone will work towards will have come to naught. Reject the puppeteering ways of Mnggal-Mnggal, and I will grant you the same immortality you now possess - and more. Lest the creature tire of you and choose to snuff out whatever individual spirit remains."

 

[Darth Immortuos]

"Was it worth it?" Onrai asked, a surprisingly simple question. "You live a tormentuous, undead existence. Your flesh is irrecoverably corrupt, not preserved for eternity as Drear's ritual was intended to promise. If you had sought to live forever as the ancient lich-kings of Rhand yet do, or perhaps as the most ancient practitioners of ukûbokum did - such as Andeddu or Sion - you wouldn't have to have touched a piece of the greater darkness to achieve the immortality and power you so desired. By sacrificing your wife, you also compromised the integrity of your original intent - to keep her and your children safe. Perhaps that is why you haven't been fully devoured by Mnggal-Mnggal - it feeds off the anguish and despair of the things you've done even more than it does your skin and bones." That was what she knew from the briefest time she had touched the primordial's mind, a horror she, to say the least, very much desired never to repeat again.

"I can help you, you know." She said, even as the revenants in question came into the temple - a threat that made the tiny sliver of mortal inside her panic. "If these infected corpses spread the taint of Mekal here in the temple, that will practically behead the leadership of the Empire and everything everyone will work towards will have come to naught. Reject the puppeteering ways of Mnggal-Mnggal, and I will grant you the same immortality you now possess - and more. Lest the creature tire of you and choose to snuff out whatever individual spirit remains."

The Lord of Decay opted not to address the comparison to Andeddu and Sion. He would address that later if it was pressed. His mind was on other things now.

Was it worth it? That was indeed the question to answer. For years I had strived for power, knowledge and immortality. But I wished to be different. Set apart through the means that other sith achieved it. Was this female entity before me correct? Had I made a mistake? Was the ritual a botch? Doubt was invoked to the forefront of his mind as Immortuos felt barraged by so many question. From without and within.

Was it worth it.

Somewhere within the Lord of Decay anger arose. Anger unlike any other he had felt in a long time. It was not fueled by petty spite, ambition, hunger for knowledge or power. It was a anger born from love. Love for his family and very legacy. He knew he had done wrong to his daughters and wife, but he had not failed them. What Onrai insinuated did though. And for the first time Nulgath felt a twitch of wrath. He was bothered, upset and had let another person outside himself push his buttons. He had no one to blame but himself. It was he who after all let Onrai in to his own personal life. To be vulnerable.

This...this here was a mistake.

The infected thralls edged closer from behind by one step at a time while Immortuos toiled with emotions and thoughts. A slow deliberate shamble. It was a slip of conscious control but was enough to un-suppress The Sickness's natural instinct to consume. It was apparent and short lived. Popping his jaw in irritation and glimpsing one of the many infected perceptions he was linked with, Nulgath looked through Onrai and to his infected thralls with a harsh gaze. They stopped in their tracks. Collectively.

The darkside swirled around him, invisible to the eye but able to be felt. Raw, untamed and sorrowful.
But his words were for the Shadowed female.

" It was the only way." He said lowly. It was his pride. " Go on. Elaborate the details of how you can ...help me." He asked curiously and lifted one.

 

[Onrai]

"A simple rite." She said. "The sacrifice of the life of all the Sickness you have yet summoned and spread - channeled into your spirit, giving you a mere sliver of the immortality and power which I yet possess. From there it would merely be a matter of crafting you a body for said spirit to inhabit. I have... experience in such matters." She conveniently chose not to mention the individuals whose bodies she had crafted, or the fact that her knowledge of creating forms and transferring essences came from the original Velok having aided her with such a task once upon a time.

"And from there, we can then go through the trouble of retrieving your wife's spirit from the Netherworld and giving her the life she deserved to live." The extra temptation had been offered, something to encourage the Sith's committal. She did not mention whether said wife would be appreciative or cross as a result, but such was not for her to bother with - only the efforts of revivification.

Darth Immortuos

 

[Darth Immortuos]

"A simple rite." She said. "The sacrifice of the life of all the Sickness you have yet summoned and spread - channeled into your spirit, giving you a mere sliver of the immortality and power which I yet possess. From there it would merely be a matter of crafting you a body for said spirit to inhabit. I have... experience in such matters." She conveniently chose not to mention the individuals whose bodies she had crafted, or the fact that her knowledge of creating forms and transferring essences came from the original Velok having aided her with such a task once upon a time.

"And from there, we can then go through the trouble of retrieving your wife's spirit from the Netherworld and giving her the life she deserved to live."

The Lord of Decay paused.

In other words I will have to die, transfer my essence to another form and all the while trust that my benefactor here has my best interest in mind. But my wife...My kids.

Hopes and dreams.

" In truth I care little for the Dark Empire and their goals. I am Sith and I have my own agenda. I do not grovel at the feet of would be Dark Lords. You mentioned, with a certain degree of alarm I might add, how dangerous one of the infected thralls can be. My only purpose here is to grow my power structure. That is all. But if what you say in true." Beady red eyes blinked at the infected behind Onrai . " The Breathless Host nests on several planets across the known galaxy. Ithor, Atrisa, Kashyyyk, Kuat and some others. I can control a majority of them but not them all at once. I would need more focus and yet without my presence they would do exactly what you fear could happen. Consume and infect everyone and everything."

Still his thoughts spinned around the idea of giving away his power, In truth he desired it but also did not. For all it gave him and supposedly ate away at him, Immortuos still was having trouble conceptualizing letting go. And as such the thought of seeing his wife was something that filled his beign with genuine joy but that visualization was a mere fever dream. " How could she even forgive me? How could my daughters?" He whispered to himself with concern. Onrai could do whatever she pleased with Nulgath, If he agreed to the process and there was no guarantee of success.

 

[Onrai]

"Of course you don't care." Onrai said matter-of-factly. "Every Sith has their own agenda, and in due time, agendas clash and blades are brought to bear against one another. I would hardly expect you to give more than a passing glance at the shift in pan-galactic power, or who - or what - rules over the galaxy." The shade observed the shambling monstrosities for a moment, considering the differently diseased strain of Mnggal-Mnggal that flowed through them and loathing it with the curses only an ancient being could yet bring to bear.

"Then we will need to travel to these worlds one by one and destroy them. The life of the Sickness within them will need to be consumed, added to bolster your own spirit and stave off the chance of an end coming to you before the time is yet done. It will take ritual knowledge of eons past to achieve this, but with you, we can perhaps make this work. But to do this, you will have to supplicate yourself to me, to my teachings. To know that I will do my best for you. Not as an apprentice pledging to their master, but as a servant pledging to their god." She said, looking over the broken husk of Immortuos, monstrously tattered and decayed beyond all reasonable hope of recovery.

"After all, only divine intervention is what will save you."

Darth Immortuos