He feels something else behind him -- potent, unfamiliar, fearsome, tugging at him concerningly. At another time he'd investigate, but he can't take his eyes off the sight in front of him for a moment, and he's made his choice already: Trust Wangji.
Haste, he hears the word called. None of them are going to last much longer. This siege will beat them down any moment now if he doesn't end it all here.
They circle each other silently for a moment, boots packing down the slushy ruined snow and tundra grass and spattered ichor, and Arche looks for an opening. That weapon in the warlord's withered hand has a great deal of reach on his own saber, and the sheer hideous presence of Unhalad is an attack all of its own. This close it nearly feels like it could swallow him, maybe literally. The force of it beats down on him. Summons thoughts of dark nights on a faraway planet. Of having too little already, and trying to figure out how to divide it up. Of watching a bent back walk away from him for the last time. Of being small.
--But this is no time for reverie, and he can't let the creature overwhelm him. Haste. That well is one he's pulled from many times before. The dark mire of despair, thick enough to drown in -- the feeling of gnawing hunger and the knowing there's no way out -- these are old friends. These are pains that he's long ago turned into power.
He lunges. They clash. Unhalad comes at him with all the force of a creature desperate to consume, desperate for more. A bleeding gash goes down Archeval's side before he can dance out of the way, not trivial but there's no time to tend it -- no time to take his eyes off the objective. For all that he can barely recognize this thing as a sentient, as a human, it has such power. Part of him holds back a little more than he should, skittish to get close, to give room to that grasping hand to touch him. If it really were to take hold, could it start to devour him right here and now? Could it suck out his essence, try to turn his power on everyone else here--
Wait.
Of course. That is the path forward.
Like calls to like, and Darth Imperius is as hungry for power as either of them ever were for sustenance.
If he can put an end to this right now, can grab the spirit within the decaying husk and make it his own, can use its power and learn its secrets -- that could change -- everything--
1/2
Haste, he hears the word called. None of them are going to last much longer. This siege will beat them down any moment now if he doesn't end it all here.
They circle each other silently for a moment, boots packing down the slushy ruined snow and tundra grass and spattered ichor, and Arche looks for an opening. That weapon in the warlord's withered hand has a great deal of reach on his own saber, and the sheer hideous presence of Unhalad is an attack all of its own. This close it nearly feels like it could swallow him, maybe literally. The force of it beats down on him. Summons thoughts of dark nights on a faraway planet. Of having too little already, and trying to figure out how to divide it up. Of watching a bent back walk away from him for the last time. Of being small.
--But this is no time for reverie, and he can't let the creature overwhelm him. Haste. That well is one he's pulled from many times before. The dark mire of despair, thick enough to drown in -- the feeling of gnawing hunger and the knowing there's no way out -- these are old friends. These are pains that he's long ago turned into power.
He lunges. They clash. Unhalad comes at him with all the force of a creature desperate to consume, desperate for more. A bleeding gash goes down Archeval's side before he can dance out of the way, not trivial but there's no time to tend it -- no time to take his eyes off the objective. For all that he can barely recognize this thing as a sentient, as a human, it has such power. Part of him holds back a little more than he should, skittish to get close, to give room to that grasping hand to touch him. If it really were to take hold, could it start to devour him right here and now? Could it suck out his essence, try to turn his power on everyone else here--
Wait.
Of course. That is the path forward.
Like calls to like, and Darth Imperius is as hungry for power as either of them ever were for sustenance.
If he can put an end to this right now, can grab the spirit within the decaying husk and make it his own, can use its power and learn its secrets -- that could change -- everything--