drasek cale paced the spacious area within his quarters on his personal yacht. about him, once luxurious furniture was broken and shattered by the expulsion of force energy and charred by the blade of a lightsaber. the former jedi ran his hands through his hair, unsure of why he'd wreaked the spontaneous destruction. the answer that mocked him at the back of his mind was one he could not bring himself to accept: he was losing his sanity. what had begun as a means to remove corruption in the senate had taken on a life of its own. how much was he truly drasek cale and how much was atropos? was atropos even real or had he been invented in cale's mind? every time he moved past the suit of armor he bared his teeth at it in a feral snarl.
"talk to me, damn you! what do you want from me?"
his hoarse shout as he stopped before the empty suit went unanswered. laughing bitterly, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair again before leaning against the wall. he wanted to cry.
taking a few breaths to try to calm himself, he sat down, closing his eyes and attempted to meditate; anything to penetrate the shroud he'd become enclosed in; a tomb of darkness from which he could find no escape. further in seemed to be the only option and where it would end, he did not know.
