Private We Create Monsters, Then We Cannot Control Them

[Darth Hemorpheus]

"We create Monsters, Then We Can't Control Them."
-Joe Coen

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Location: Botajef

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TAG: Nyxira Valis


The Lord of Life had since his severance from The Diarchy made The Odyssey, his quest to unravel the power of life his chief priority. He buried his broken heart in this work, taking is laboratory class ship, The Vita, into the Outer Rim threshold. There in the Hadrian Way, a route near Mandalore, was a world with promise. The Former Achon had heard whispers of a Powerful Sorceress who rumors claimed had learned the "secret of life and death." It was in this moment that Hemorpheus was pained, for Darth Nexion , Lord of Death, would be intrigued to meet this mysterious Dark Lady. As he road the route to Botajef, the stars gliding by as strips of white light, The Sith Scientist sat in his lab, his mind teeming with the possibilities of research. As he levitated an instrument of magnification to his hand, he began to think of Anastarsia , who had been his assistant in many of his experiments, including the ill fated Murakami Incident. She was more than an assistant, the Nightsister had become his right hand and a romance had blossomed between the two. Alas, as ever is the case philosophies and faith came between them. She remained with the Diarchs, having found her place there, while he had made his way to the Sith Order, where he intended to use his powers for what he knew was coming.

The Lab Vessel came out of hyperspace, and began to orbit this world. The hangar was disturged as a smaller craft came out of the bay, its great long dark wings casting a shadow for a moment on he haul like a Mynock. The Shuttle decended towards the city world, crossing the threshold of the stratosphere into the skyline of skyscrapers, many of them shining beneath the sun and pedestrian speeders and transports moving about in the air as blood vessels in a vein. This world was home to as species called Jefi who were conformist caste of beings that when finding a competent ruler would bend to them and follow with unflinching devotion and loyalty. This was the perfect setting for the fabled Sorceress, this Darth whispered among the stars to reside and conduct her machinations. As the shuttle landed at a space port, and The Lord of Life made his way down the ramp in his blood soaked armor, he wondered if indeed he was a Moth headed towards a flame. There had been many femine fatales in the history of the galaxy, no more infamous than the Queen of Stars herself, Abeloth.

Hemorpheus was emotinally unstable, his soul raw as bones exposed to the elments and in the process of fossilization. All his dreams had been detonated as a star, save The Oddessey, that was the only tether he had left to the land of the living. Walking the lower city streets, the Darth in his burgundy blood mantels was sure to draw attention. This was due to more than eighty percent of population was the indidgenous Jefi, so even if he had no worn an attention gathering attire, he still would be noticed. Now to make inquires, if She was here, one had to follow the whispers. He started in crowded streets of traders, selling wares and foods, asking as he made patronage, if they had heard of a Woman on the planet. One Jefi had some intel, he said,
"Yeah, there was one as you described who came through.. a striking Lady."
Hemorpheus inquiring further,
"How long ago?"
The Jefi as he put some robes of yellow and black stacked on top of each other replied,
"A couple of days a go I reckon.. though I am not entirely sure if what I saw I saw."
The Lord of Life was intrigued, he giving the Salesman some credits asked,
"What do you mean?"
The Jefi replied,
"It is hard to describe, my memory it feels as a dream.. that was why I was hesistant to say anything, I might have imagined it."
A Whisper, no mistake.. the trail was warm.
"Thank you for the information."
He tipped the man and the made his way to a sqaure, there he considered the next course of action. Should he follow the trail and begin The Hunt, or make Her come to him? Send out an invitation. The ladder was preferable, though how to lure Her out of hiding was the question. The whispers claimed she had dominion over life and death, this was the very reason he had come. Thus the simplest way to draw attention was to experiment on the blue prints of life, the Midi-Chlorians. He found a destitute Jefi on the street, the smell of the creature was as rotten fish. Urging him to follow after buying him a meal, to the top of a spire, one of the great buildings. There the Jefi looking over the edge began to tremble. With his hand Hemorpheus calling the power of the Force made a wave over his head, making him collapse. Then placing the man on a altar, the Dark Lord began to hold out both hands, poised as one might to play an instrument, and as his fingers began to tap, the body contorted and inside the cells began to strobe with light, the microscopic life, those Midi-chloria began to bounce about as electrons and many of them exploded, others began to shift in shape and color, becoming triangular, and the flesh of the host began to decay and develop blemishs, when it gasped and its eyes of yellow with coral pupils opening. It leapt up and lunged at The Lord of Life, he side stepped the clawing and pawing of this monster. It was not his finest work, and was based on another's, Lord Scaberous. The point was not ingenuity, rather to rupture the seeds of the Force enough to draw Her out and establish a meeting...

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira had felt it — a sharp, deliberate rupture in the Force, like a wound torn open in reality itself. The presence behind it was unmistakable, its signature rippling with an insatiable curiosity and ambition that resonated with the Dark Side. Yet it was clumsy in its execution, its echoes tainted with instability. She allowed a faint smirk to grace her lips as she turned her attention fully toward the disturbance. Someone was calling her, and they had used life itself as their signal. How quaint.

The air around her shimmered with latent power as she reached out through the Force, tracing the tremor to its source. The tendrils of her presence extended, brushing past the chaotic energy of the experiment, until she found it: a mind as restless as it was brilliant, surrounded by the crude remnants of its creation. Her smirk widened into something colder, sharper.

Moments later, her sleek, black shuttle descended onto the spire where the grotesque experiment had been conducted. The hiss of the ramp opening cut through the still air as Nyxira stepped out, her dark cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. The grotesque creature's presence was an irritating buzz in the Force, but her attention was focused solely on the man who had dared summon her.

Her violet eyes locked on Hemorpheus, cutting through the space between them with an intensity that could make lesser beings tremble. She descended the ramp with deliberate precision, each step reverberating as though the Force itself acknowledged her arrival. When she finally stopped, she cast a brief glance at the malformed creation writhing nearby, her expression one of mild disdain.

"Curious," she said at last, her voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of centuries of Sith sorcery. "A man so enamored with the concept of life... yet what you create is an abomination."

Her gaze returned to him, sharp and unyielding, as though peeling back the layers of his thoughts. "You called, and I have answered. Do not waste my time with trivial displays." She gestured dismissively at the creature. "You seek me for a reason. Speak it plainly, before I decide your experiment would make a suitable offering to the Force."

The storm above rumbled faintly, a subtle echo of her simmering power. She stood motionless, a dark specter of command, waiting to see if this man truly deserved her attention — or if his misguided quest would end here.

Darth Hemorpheus ​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

The Plagueian Plea that this Lord of Life had made in the Force was answered, he felt it at once the presence of the One whom he had heard of in the choking breath of walking corpses. When the shuttle came overhead, vibrating the great spire with a hum of an instrument, Hemorpheus knew that who was about to descend was the Storm itself, Nyxira Valis , the elusive master of life and death, or so they said. Her entrance came with fan fair of clouds and the crackle of bolts, theatrics to this Scientist, not uncommon among those claiming the mantel of Darth. Ever since the Lords conquered Korriban, they had endeavored to retain a image of the divine, of gods. The Former Achon found the idea of deification amusing, and despite that he played god, probing and manipulating creation, he did not seek worship. The Odyssey. The Journey of the dark side was not about glorification of the self, rather it was to see less dimly the fabric of the whole, to get a glimpse behind the curtain of the Vita Mysterion.

This reach, to touch the tip of Life's very finger was the sum of his ambition. More than ever he needed to be taken to this theshold, the ties that once held him had been cut clean as a robe with a saber. Though the scars remain, and he felt inside a scream that at some point could not be contained, The Sith Scientist buried deep this emotional vulnerability. He numbed it with this important work, and now perhaps he found someone who would be the Key, who could help him in this discovery achieve his ends.

He first words addressed the seeming hypocrisy of the monstrosity he had crafted on the altar. How could a Lord of Life do thus to the living? This perhaps would provoke some Lords to quibble, and make dissertation in defense of their paradox. The Former Achon did not want to waste her time, which she even mentioned in her greeting. Reaching out his hand, the Vessel of the Vita began to call to those deformed cells, and the once mutated triangle of black began to turn back to the red circles. The Jefi fell back with gasp, as the rotting flesh began to peel of his body and his blemishes fell as stones on the ground. Plenty were infected, and morphed by the dark power, making monsters was not unique or reason for her to consider him. So he showed her an ability to restore, to reclaim the sentiantality and form of the experiment. The Man began to cry out, his screams a symphony as he began to examine his flesh which was once more as it had been, he looking at the two Dread Ones, then began to run and leap off the edge of the tower, Hemorpheus reaching out with his hand caught the poor beggar. He then with his other hand opened the door to the stair well and sent him flying into it and shut the door.

Looking at the Mistress of Maelstrome, The Lord of Life said,
"Waste your time, I hope that you in turn do not waste mine.. I sought you out for this purpose, the claims that you have Mastered the power of life and death. Tell me plainly Madam, are these whispers true or merely rhetoric you have used to build the scaffolding of your self importance? Like this storm perhaps?"
His words had a tinge of venom, displaced anger even, though he needed to show her that he had no come to play at greatness.
"I seek to cross the threshold, to touch The Source of Life itself. When I have.. and I will.. I shall become the True Lord of Life, bending it to my willl not with these parlor tricks of cells that Plagueis was content with.. no on a grander scale.. forming worlds, stars, and greater things still."
She had asked, and he gave a transparent answer. Hemorpheus did not enjoy intrigues and obfuscation; deception to him was to dig a grave and bury yourself in the troublesome game of remembering which lies you have told and keeping sense of the web you have woven. For him every second was precious, life was precious, and he watched in dismay as so many took for granted how little time they really had left.

 

[Nyxira Valis]

​

Nyxira watched the grotesque transformation reverse under Hemorpheus's guidance, her expression unreadable. Her glowing violet eyes lingered on the man now restored to his original form, his cries echoing in the charged air before he was unceremoniously hurled into the stairwell. The display was competent, impressive even, but she allowed no flicker of acknowledgment to betray her thoughts.

When Hemorpheus spoke, his words carried venom, though she detected something deeper beneath the surface: anger, desperation, and ambition layered atop wounds not yet healed. She let him speak without interruption, her gaze steady and unrelenting, as if dissecting him with her eyes alone. Only when he finished did she step forward, her presence radiating the weight of the storm itself.

"Bold," she said finally, her voice smooth but edged with a cold amusement. "I expected curiosity, even ambition. But you presume to question me? To challenge the storm that answered your call?" She tilted her head slightly, her smirk sharp and cutting. "Careful, Hemorpheus. The edge of arrogance is a treacherous place to walk."

She gestured vaguely toward the storm above, lightning crackling in time with her movement. "This storm, as you call it, is no mere display. It is the power of the Dark Side, made manifest. You see parlor tricks; I see a reminder that nature itself bends to my will. But I did not come here to justify myself to you."

Nyxira stepped closer, the storm seeming to intensify as she closed the distance between them. "I felt your call," she continued, her voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "Your reach for something greater than yourself, for power that you cannot yet comprehend. And now you stand before me, proclaiming yourself a would-be master of life, seeking the threshold beyond. Do you truly think you are ready to cross it?"

Her hand raised slightly, faint traces of red and blue lightning crackling between her fingers. The air around her seemed to hum with energy as she continued. "Life and death are not games to be played. They are forces to be mastered, yes — but mastery comes with a cost. A cost most are unwilling to pay."

She let the silence stretch, her piercing gaze locked onto him. "You want my knowledge, my power. And you have shown me a glimmer of potential, enough to earn my attention. But tell me this, Hemorpheus: what are you willing to sacrifice? What will you give to reach your so-called Source of Life?"

Darth Hemorpheus ​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

He felt the wind swirl around him in an intensity, the power of her storm accompanying her words as if it was orchestra. She touching on his words having the dew of conceit made him begin to understand he had knocked on the right door after all. His words had been his own trials, as if in his lab to determine what manner of a person she was.. if she was still a person was to be determined, it was clear that she was transformed, he could feel it in her presence, and though he could not in his scientific methods define it.. he had to wax into his mystical thesaurus, "The Unnatural," the words of Lord Sidious.

Then she called him on his own bluff, his self proclaimed title of Lord of Life. No one had challenged it in his circles, his promises that with the instruments of science and the esoteric he would prove himself to be worthy of it. In truth it was as she now said, and this had seared his conscious, wondering if he truly was an imposter, that his Odyssey an excuse to not accept the truth.. that he might be ordinary, like Lords blowing lots of wind from thrones of sand.

Taking a deep breath he began to make his reply,
"Your words are sobering.. I admit that I have dedicated my life to crossing the threshold. Now faced with the opportunity I admit the motive has changed.. at first it was curiosity.., then to prove myself an asset to the fledgling empire I once served, now it is necessity.. I have nothing left.. all my ties are severed, my soul as you probably have sensed shaved down to nothing.."

He considered her query, and it took no time at all to give a reply,
"I am already paying a cost.. I have lost all. I am willing to give anything and everything.. to reach transcendence."
With those words he felt himself fall on his knees not of his violition, rather that the words seemed to provoke some kind of weight that bore his flesh down to the ground before her. Hemorpheus did not resist this, he embraced it. As ever he had been transparent, even with a Storm such as this, for what was to be gained by deception? As he always told himself, it was better to be honest if possible, for benefits only came if truth was involved, lies became a burden and inhibited the light of discovery.

TAG: Nyxira Valis

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's gaze lingered on Hemorpheus as he knelt before her, his words hanging in the charged air like the echo of distant thunder. The storm above seemed to still, as though the Dark Side itself held its breath, waiting for her response. His honesty intrigued her. He had no pretenses, no masks to veil his desperation, and she respected that. It made him useful, and more importantly, it made him malleable.

"You have lost everything," she said finally, her voice low and resonant, carrying the weight of the storm itself. "And yet here you kneel, ready to give even what little remains of you. That, Hemorpheus, is what separates those who reach transcendence from those who perish in its shadow."

She stepped closer, her figure towering over him as her violet eyes burned with intensity. "But words are wind, and oaths are hollow. If you truly mean to dedicate yourself to crossing the threshold, then you will do so on my terms." Her voice sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. "You will swear yourself to my cause. Your brilliance, your ambition, your life — all of it will serve me."

Nyxira raised her hand, and faint crimson runes began to glow along her fingertips, pulsating with a dark, ancient power. "I have plans, Hemorpheus. Plans that require someone like you. Someone who can create monsters not as abominations, but as weapons. As an army. Loyal to me and me alone."

She gestured toward him, her power pressing down on him like a physical weight. "Swear yourself to me, and I will show you the path to transcendence. But know this: your word is not enough. The Dark Side demands more than promises."

Her other hand rose, and from the air itself, a blade formed — shimmering and obsidian, its edges inscribed with glowing Sith runes. "We will carve this pact in flesh and blood. A rune of loyalty, etched into your arm as a reminder of what you have given, and what you will gain."

Nyxira's smirk returned, sharp and dangerous, as she extended the blade toward him. "This is your moment, Hemorpheus. Choose wisely. Swear to me, and I will raise you to heights you've only dreamed of. Refuse, and you will become another forgotten failure consumed by the Dark Side."

The storm rumbled overhead, echoing her command as the crimson lightning illuminated her figure. She waited, the blade gleaming in her hand, her presence as unyielding as the promise of power she offered.

Darth Hemorpheus ​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

TAG: Nyxira Valis

On his knees he felt at last as if he had shed is last boast, all his career as a Scientist he claimed the mantle of Lord of Life, and the truth was despite his skill to manipulate the Midi-chlorians, he felt as only an imitator of Plagueis. He had gone by the folly filled "fake it until thou make it," and now he was confronted with the reality, a choice that would determine his destiny going forward. Was he truly as brave as he led on? The Offer she gave was for him to be an Apprentice of Transcendence, the cost was utter devotion to Her. Hemorpheus had never had a true tutor, his talents were all honed through self teaching. Though that could take one only so far.

In the crucible of his loss she was the first to give him affirmation, that even wading through his grief he was offering his very soul to the Void, to know the true power of Life and Death. Raising his gaze to look her in those eyes of lavander fire, he took his saber hilt and with a single stroke cut his pauldron off his right arm, it fell cleanly to expose his bare skin. He then exstinguishing the kyber flame laid it at her feet as an offering, his blade would now serve her will not his own.

"I swear to you, that I shall walk the path of transcendence.. I will in turn for your guidence across the black waters of the unknown pledge my power to be in your service, to create for you and shape for you what weapons of flesh, marrow, and metal that you demand."

He bowing his head to her feet, kissed the hallowed ground. The Odyssey was at last going to be underway, all his false starts among The Diarchy, on Odar-Faustin, and in Unknown Regions in his adolescence were over. Here at last the true journey of the dark side was to begin, where he as her vassal would learn the mysteries of the Vita. He felt himself bending beneath the weight of her glory, and this submission did not humiliate him. Too long had he chased after the wind without guidance, without the discipline of obeying another.

Raising his head once more he looking into the Storm said,
"I will be loyal to you alone, and my creations shall serve you and carry your storm as arks to whatever ends you deem."

The exchange to him was uneven, she was going to show him what he had sought all his life, and he was going to give you weapons, a paltry offering, surly there was more he could give this Dark Lady who had given him renewed purpose, and the promise of his greatest desire. He would not be content to give her ordinary Sithspawns, no they would be greater than any that had been seen in the galaxy! Hemorpheus would find a means to create for her servants that would exceed those of any that serve in the armies of the Sith. He would make good on his words, through deeds he would prove that he was the rightful claimant to Lord of Life, that he deserved to cross the Threshold and see behind the curtain of the constant heart beat that kept all that was animated alive...

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira watched Hemorpheus with unflinching intensity as he laid bare his soul before her. The sharp hum of his saber as it severed the pauldron from his arm, the gesture of laying the hilt at her feet, the weight of his words — all of it spoke to the depths of his desperation and ambition. This was no hollow oath; he had given her his all. His submission wasn't humiliating — it was empowering, and for that, Nyxira allowed a faint, approving smirk to touch her lips.

"Good," she said, her voice smooth and resonant, carrying with it the weight of the Dark Side. "You understand what it means to offer everything. That is the first step. To shed pretenses, to relinquish the self you were, and to embrace the purpose I now bestow upon you."

Her violet eyes burned brighter as she took the obsidian blade, runes along its edges glowing crimson in the stormlight. She stepped closer, her presence towering over him, and placed the flat of the blade against his exposed arm. The runes pulsed, a rhythm of power and dominion, as she spoke again.

"This mark will bind you to me," she said, her tone low but commanding, as if the storm itself echoed her words. "It is a sigil of loyalty, of purpose, and of creation. Through it, you will channel your brilliance into forging weapons that will carry my will across the galaxy. It is a reminder that your life, your power, and your creations serve one master."

She began to chant in an ancient tongue, her words carrying the heavy resonance of Sith sorcery. The runes on the blade flared brighter, and with a swift, deliberate motion, she carved a glowing mark into his arm. The sigil shimmered and burned as the magic took root, embedding itself into his very being. The pain was sharp, excruciating, but not without purpose.

As the mark settled, the pain faded, replaced by a pulsing warmth that seemed to connect Hemorpheus to Nyxira's overwhelming presence. She pulled the blade away and inspected her work, her smirk deepening as the sigil glowed faintly on his skin.

"Rise, Hemorpheus," she commanded, her voice firm yet almost inviting. "You are no longer adrift. You are mine now, bound by power and purpose. The creations you forge will be unparalleled, weapons not of chaos, but of calculated destruction. Flesh, bone, and metal — united in service of my storm."

She turned, the storm above rumbling in time with her steps, and glanced over her shoulder, her violet gaze locking onto his. "Prove your worth, Hemorpheus, and I will lead you to the threshold you seek. Fail me…" Her smirk returned, sharp as the blade she still held. "And you will join the failures who dared to waste my time."

Without waiting for a reply, she began to walk toward the edge of the spire, the storm parting slightly in her wake. "Come," she called, her voice carrying over the charged air. "There is much work to be done."

Darth Hemorpheus ​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

The Lord of Life on bent knee felt the sting of the blade as it burned the symbol of their union. It was strange in sensation, for he at once felt he was there, above them, on her ship, and all that the storm encompassed. Was this a taste of the power she promised? To be Omnipresent? He rose to meet her eyes with his own which flickered with a tinge of that light that had marked the edges of the blade in flame. Hemorpheus had tethered himself to this Dark Lady, his soul was her own, and for the first time a rest settled in him that he had not known. It was a curious paradox, the storm around them and yet the stillness within. He feeling all of this listened to her words, they too carried a relief as they assured him he no longer was alone, navigating the galaxy as blind seeker of the Threshold. He levitating his saber back to his belt as he looked into her glorious eyes,
"I begin to understand Milady.."
When she mentioned fulfilling her part of this pact, of taking him to the beyond, for the first time he desired this would be postponed, that he could linger in this Storm of hers, for it was unlike anything he had felt before, her power he was seeing was not as others who made lofty claims, no it was intoxicating! He wanted to remain in it, for the silence that now was inside had brought a quiet to his heart, and he was able to feel the soothing refrain, a respite from it.

He closing his eyes for a moment in this delightful paradiso, he then said to her,
"I am yours, I will not fail you. Whatever I am, whatever I am capable of creating, shall be branded as I have been so, by your mark. I see now.. the glory that is to serve."
There was such a great release, a pressure to be great in his own wake, something he was not sure was possible in the first place. The truth is he needed a vision, he had The Odyssey which had kept his ship from wrecking among the stars thusfar. Though it was lonely path, none desired to delve into the secrets of Life as he did, not even his assistant who had abandoned him. Here in her Presence he felt a binary comparability, she would show him behind the curtain of what he sought, and he would use everything in his power to help her achieve what she sought, was this what was called a truly reciprocal relationship?

As she began to speak about getting to work, he taking a breath, the ventilator in his throat clicking, said,
"Where shall we begin?"

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira stood at the edge of the spire, her cloak billowing in the wind as the storm churned overhead. Hemorpheus's words pleased her — not just the pledge of loyalty, but the recognition of her power and the purpose she had granted him. She turned to face him, her violet eyes glowing faintly, their intensity tempered by a hint of satisfaction.

"Where shall we begin?" she echoed, her voice smooth yet commanding. "We begin with proof. If you are to craft the weapons I require, I need to see your capabilities firsthand."

She gestured sharply, and the storm above seemed to part, revealing the sleek black outline of her shuttle descending toward the spire. The ramp lowered with a hiss as the craft landed, its surface gleaming faintly in the lightning's glow. Nyxira turned, striding up the ramp with deliberate precision, her presence compelling Hemorpheus to follow.

The interior of the shuttle was dark and minimalist, its design exuding efficiency and power. Nyxira moved to the front of the craft, where a small terminal flickered to life at her touch. She entered a set of coordinates, and the ship lifted off smoothly, carrying them toward her destination.

"One of my laboratories," she said, glancing at Hemorpheus over her shoulder. "I have spared no expense in outfitting it with the tools you'll need. But before we set you loose to create, you will demonstrate your abilities. I must see the foundation of your craft before I guide you to its pinnacle."

The shuttle's descent was smooth, landing in a remote compound surrounded by jagged cliffs and shrouded in perpetual stormlight. The laboratory's exterior was sleek and angular, built into the rock itself, its windows glowing faintly with crimson light. As they entered, the air was thick with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of chemicals.

Nyxira led him into a spacious chamber filled with alchemical workstations, containment tanks, and rows of instruments meant to manipulate the boundaries of life and death. At the center of the room was a reinforced table holding an inert Sithspawn embryo, a blank slate of potential waiting to be shaped.

"This is your test," she said, gesturing to the creature. "Take this form and imbue it with life. Shape it into something worthy of the Dark Side. I want to see your process, your vision. Show me what you are capable of."

She stepped back, crossing her arms as she watched him with piercing intensity, her violet gaze unwavering. "Impress me, Hemorpheus. And then we will begin your true work."

Darth Hemorpheus ​

 

[Darth Hemorpheus]

TAG: Nyxira Valis

The Lord of Life to Be was lead into her sanctuary, the ship had a magnificent lab, one that made her Diarchy one seem primitive. The Dark Lady demanded another demonstration, he had called her with the Scaberous Plague, and so now he had to reveal how he would animate this creature that was devoid of life. Turning to her, he said,
"You best fortify yourself Milady.. what you shall sense is.. unnatural."
He closing his eyes, began to reach out, his hands as if in prayer, then stretching out the hands, swirling aorund him was wind, though it was not wind, nor was it the ventilation that was sterilizing the room with cold air. He reaching out saw it, the light, was was in orbs all about them, sparkling and dancing about, he called to it, and held what appeared to be a helix in the Force, taking it began to tear it apart, seperating it into cells that he poured down into the creature like stardust, in point of fact that was what many called it. When Hemorpheus touched this Light of Life, he felt it, his heart rate raising, his cells flowing at a frenzied pace, he using his hands like a vessel began to pour more of the dust down into the creature, which had great eyes of emerald that opened with their sharp slits of ebony, and it gasped, inside a beat began to rise as a drum, rising louder and louder as the Creature rose up and let out a tremedious cry.

What was most intriguing was this light, once it filled the creature turned to shadow and became as blood, flowing through channels and canal like arteries of the creature. Most unusual was the Monster did not lash out at them, or demonstrate a violence that the Strain he had used on his Call to reach the Dark Lady earlier had. This Spawn was calm, and looking at its own claws, as if it understood itself and what had transpired. Letting go of the Stardust, Hemorpheus let out a deep breath and fell on one knee, he began to breath heavily as he turned towards His Mistress,
"Notice.. it is not a monster in the traditional sense.. it knows it is alive, it has curiosity, and even is as a child might be."
He rose up, though the power had drained him greatly, looking at his his Liege Lady he said,
"Anyone can make Sith Spawns that behave as bruts and beasts of mayhem.. this is something more, an offering, it will imprint on you as a Mother.. for it belongs to you! As I promised, everything shall be at your command, more importantly what I create will treat you as its Queen, its Matriarch."
The Creature drew near to her and sniffed, it gave a growl that was not terrifying, rather it sounded as a animal that was greeting one of its own herd. The Spawn came closer to its Queen and sticking out its tongue licked at her boots.

The Lord of Life had created life, and it would be at her service, just as he was at her service. For freedom was found in submission, this was the lesson he had learned in a moment of pledging himself to her, for he felt everything in the ship, in the storm, and perhaps a measure of her, her intent for sure. This state of being was not anything like he had experienced in all his experiments, and attempts at crossing the threshold, it was intoxicating, he wanted to dwell in this temple of the tempest always. If it was some sort of spell, and meant to subdue him, Hemorpheus no longer cared, for the first time in his life, he felt a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging, that had eluded him since he came from the Unknown Regions. How fitting that it was another who had dwelt there in the unknown would help him feel known...

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira watched the display with an expression of sharp, unwavering focus. As Hemorpheus summoned the stardust, the unnatural light twisting and coalescing into something tangible, she felt the raw energy radiating from his work. It was fascinating — alien, even — but undeniably powerful. Her violet eyes burned brighter as the Sithspawn took shape, the faint crackle of lightning outside seeming to echo her rising interest.

When the creature opened its emerald eyes, its sharp cry reverberating through the chamber, Nyxira allowed the faintest hint of a smile to touch her lips. She took a deliberate step forward, observing the creature as it moved with an eerie calm, its intelligence already apparent in the way it inspected its claws and approached her. She sensed no wild chaos, no mindless bloodlust. Instead, there was a strange, almost childlike curiosity.

The Sithspawn's display of submission — its growl and the deliberate lick against her boots — sparked a low, amused chuckle. Her gaze flicked briefly to Hemorpheus as he spoke, the strain of his effort clear in his labored breathing and trembling frame.

"You've impressed me, Hemorpheus," she said, her voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of satisfaction. "This creation is more than I expected, and exactly what I require. Intelligent, aware, and loyal. You've demonstrated your potential as more than a mere alchemist."

Nyxira knelt slightly, her imposing figure still commanding even as she lowered herself to the creature's level. Her glowing eyes locked with the Sithspawn's emerald gaze as she reached out, her hand hovering just above its head. The creature stilled, its growl turning into a low, rhythmic hum, as though it recognized her as its master. She allowed her fingers to lightly brush its leathery skin, an acknowledgment of its submission.

"Your creation knows its place," she said, standing again and fixing Hemorpheus with a piercing look. "And you've proven you do as well. This creature will serve as the first of many — each one more perfect than the last."

Her gaze swept over the laboratory, her voice taking on a commanding tone. "This lab will be your sanctum. Here, you will refine your craft, guided by my vision. Together, we will create an army that will reshape the galaxy. One that will not falter, one that will not betray. I already have a project for you very soon."

Nyxira's smirk returned, sharp and dangerous. "You are no longer a wanderer, Hemorpheus. You are mine. And through me, you will find the purpose you have craved."

Turning, she walked toward the nearest workstation, her voice carrying over the crackling storm outside. "Rest if you must. Then I will show you something to reward you for your work."

Darth Hemorpheus ​