He could see the Ithorian drawing in for an attack. Darth Malicia sprang to the scene, capturing the Grandmaster into a bubble. It could contain him, but not for long. Emryc was launched backwards from the blow, reeling from the impact. It sent waves of pain through his body as he got but a taste of the Grandmaster’s power. It was the light side of the Force, and it burned him more than the attack normally would. He felt as if he were on fire, and he was left reeling from it.
There was a sick satisfaction from that pain, and he reached into the Force to harness it. He grabbed it by the neck and commanded it, making it obey. He was still on the ground, moving till he was on a knee, his haunting white mask gazing directly at the Grandmaster.
With the others focusing their attacks, there was the tiniest sliver of a window. Emryc did not see through the physical realm of the world, he had tapped into another plane entirely. He did not need his earthly senses, diving into that plane where he saw the white beacon that blinded him. The dark shadows were peripherally around it, but they could not penetrate it.
Emryc was a dagger in the Force, shooting through the stream of this alternate existence. He wove into the tiniest little opening he saw from the Ithorian bellowing his attack and the others working to ground and attack him. This was enough for that dagger to weave into his mind, a mind that would otherwise be impenetrable.
Once there, the Grandmaster would see what was happening outside. He would see the still alive younglings that crawled on the ground as their life bled away. He would see the padawans crying in agony as they clutched at their stumps. He would see that a Sith blade was used, that they did not get the mercy of cauterized wounds. They were slowly bleeding out directly outside of the door.
“There is no death,” Emryc’s voice would echo within the Ithorian’s mind, a mockery of the Jedi creed. There was no death, it was true. They hadn’t died yet. They were simply in agony. They were screaming in the earthly plane and the Force. They were clawing for mercy that did not come. The Force abandoned them and they fell into their basic human flaws. Their human instincts that begged for it to end, “There is no death,” His voice would echo.
The images would then switch to a glimpse into the planet Ithor. The pride and jewel of his people. The planet that they cherished and preserved above all. He would see the flowers being sapped of life. He would see the lives of the creatures decaying away. He would see others of his kind taking up arms. He would see war and despair, fire and chaos.
“There is no death,” Emryc would speak, illustrating that this was a promise. What he saw was an oath. What he saw was a commitment. A commitment to what would befall his people.
“You sing your Kougathu alone,” Emryc spoke in his mind, “Because you stand alone.”
The entire sequence happened in the blink of an eye, but it felt like an eternity in the plane of the Force. In the earthen plane, Emryc raised and released the ancient dagger. It would sail over the shoulders of Asminys and Malicia, aimed directly for the torso of the Grandmaster.
@Mr. Teatime