Through the Force many things are possible, and through possibility come the infinite uncertainties and horrors most are not prepared for. Malice beyond measure, a gaping maw eternally famished for bone and spirit.
No peace, no true sovereignty.
A candle of black flame finds its way, belonging to the roaring blaze of shadow from whence it came. Born only to incinerate and to engulf.
Born to eclipse the Light.
- Name: Abraxas
- Alias: Zirgas iv Kzaevas "Knight of Ruin"
- Rank: Knight
- Faction: N/A
- Species: Epicanthix
- Age: ???
- Height: 2m
- Weight: 98kg
- Eyes: Sulfuric Yellow
History of Servitude
- One Sith
- The Black Empire
- Sith Triumvirate
- The Sith Order
- Sith Empire
- Father: Darth Carnifex
- Offspring: N/A
- Veteran: Endless war, the cacophonous thunder that splits the bone of all men, women, and children. Abraxas has witnessed many a death, and has been the source of much undoing. Soldier and hero alike have fallen to his crimson, with innocence razed and dashed across the stars.
- Sword of the King: Abraxas is a fully seasoned practitioner of Shien, as per being a direct genetic descendant of the God-King himself. Though this is the default of the False Butcher, he is aware of and practices other styles such as Soresu, allowing for a more versatile and personalized approach to combat.
- Abyssal Knight: Wielder of crimson and abyssal fire, Darth Eversor has command over rather unorthodox Force abilities, of which can manipulate a fire-like substance that can literally burn away the life essence of those it consumes.
- Reassembly: After a heated battle of wills with none other than Darth Carnifex, Abraxas had to undergo extensive surgery to repair damage done to his limbs and body, broken due to his own incompetence in a one-on-one duel with his counterpart. Because of this, his connection to the Force is slightly dampened, causing him to struggle at times.
- PTSD: Before his re-assimilation into the the realm of the Sith, Abraxas had reached a breaking point where all reality and identity collapsed. Every memory of slaughter and all the misdeeds took a toll, robbing him of the fortitude and apathy once held at a time long ago. Now, the smell of scorched flesh and even the distant bombardments of cities haunt him daily and nightly.
- Agony: Encased fully in a suit of Phrik armor without proper care to previous wounds, Abraxas is constantly in pain. His movements are slowed and labored, each step a reminder of his failure and defeat at the hands of Darth Carnifex. Though crippled and reduced in potential, this setback enables Abraxas to focus upon his hatred and pain to become even deadlier with the Dark Side of the Force.
Suffering is eternal... the old familiar sting that serves as a reminder that one's vision of victory may not always be truly theirs to achieve. Pain comes to all, and it does not hold bias. It is, and was a feeling that Abraxas learned to coexist alongside of. The death of self became a routine, always having his ego shattered by the accomplishments of his peers, never able to uphold a shred of integrity in the light of the vision for the Sith.
Through many trials, and after having walked multiple paths to find himself, Abraxas failed in everything. Even in an attempt to extend peace with an open hand, he still managed to stain his fingers with blood. A fault to be accepted, yet Abraxas could not handle the pressure of his nature.
After falling into a deep depression, the shamed Sith wandered the stars in search of an answer - a reflection he could observe and use to truly understand the flaws of his actions. Through many battles, and with too many victims to count, the toll of war had brought on a strange perspective.
Abraxas did not become sympathetic towards the ones he had murdered, only distraught at how much blood he had to spill for it to mean something.
Did it ever mean anything?
And in that search for some kind of peace of mind, Abraxas found himself pulled down into the depths of the Netherworld itself. Unsuspecting and naive, the Sith had been trapped within the bowels of a hell that would be far too fitting to be mere coincidence. His body was tortured, his mind exposed to the screams of the void and visions that would tear apart the sanity of those not as damned as himself. Through many atrocities, the man never once pondered the final moments of his victims.
And now here they were as reminders, exacting a kind of vengeance that would leave Abraxas completely without the vigor or pride of his heritage. Without the roaring dominance of the Sith, he was nothing here. Weak, alone, and for once, afraid. Again and again, he relived the anguish he bestowed. Through each cycle, he felt every ounce of death wrought.
Seeing through the eyes of the deceased, witnessing his own terror.
For years, he suffered. Unable to escape his prison.
For too long had he been blind. But he must pay for his sins.
For a time, there was only the incomprehensible. Darkness veiled Abraxas' gaze, until one day he was set free. His bonds broken, and his mind reshaped by what felt like an eternity. Abraxas was now silent, having endured what most mortals wouldn't dare dream of. The screams and voices of the past had finally stopped, and death had become a close friend. After gazing into the abyss for long enough, Abraxas became part of it.
He had truly been reborn.
And now the rest of the stars must also gaze into the long, endless dark.
All must be imparted with the wisdom of the twisting hellscape, that enigma of sacred knowledge.
All must witness the eclipse.
Edited by Darth Eversor, 28 November 2018 - 12:20 AM.