emile fischer

Ryfs: Red

​

When you fall asleep... the body relaxes, the breathing slows down, and the heart rate decreases. Time disappears, the world disappears, then the kingdom of dreams opens its doors. He may be discreet, destined for oblivion or even invisible, but his infinite powers transcend the real, the imaginable, and can sometimes be guided by the great Force itself. Like a gargantuan city of possibilities, this world is full of alleys, roads and alleys, all full of secrets.

And then, at the end of the darkest alley, infected with rats and corpses resting their heads in urine, the alley leading to the sewers contaminated by the plague and exposed to the cries of the dead, is the land of the nightmare. Like a black hole, she sucks up the smallest lost boy, and swallows him without pity towards a dark, damp and cold universe, from which no one ever resurfaces. And here, at the very bottom, time exists again, flowing excruciatingly slowly. When the black seems to have shattered the sight, the howls remain inked in the brain, as if branded with an iron, and the cold seems to promise mortal relief at last, the dark and deceitful veil lifts, and the red bursts forth.

This same black world is also death, which then yields to fiery hell. And the dream, this light perched up there, unreachable, is the Force, which has already forgotten you.

So the black shattered into shards as the sith monster awoke, giving way to the mighty crimson of a blurry world. A heart resumes its usual rhythm, a fist clenches, and dark eyelids rise like curtains to reveal a pair of cinnabar irises.

She is awake.

His hand projects into the heated liquid and hits the glass of a tank. A mechanism reacts, and the substance - not bacta, but a synthetic amniotic solution, the color of alizarin - gradually disappears from the cylindrical aquarium. The oxygen tube, the tip of which still irritates the bottom of its lungs, retracts in a flash, sharp, forcing the creature to stare at the ceiling as the long, ringed plastic snake flees its body. As soon as it separates from it, it collapses to the bottom of the tank which is already almost empty.

Then the two-meter-tall cylinder retracts into its base, and the weak, naked creature curls in on itself, its face hidden under long, messy, damp black hair. Like a frightened child from a keyhole, she scans the surroundings through her hair. The blind piece of a dancing cardinal with a dark metallic. Consoles lit everywhere, few screens however, and a few beds hovering above a stone floor.

A medical laboratory.

And then it all comes back to him. The thing remembers who it is, where it is, and above all, what it has to do. It's almost as if she's been gone too long from this world, as if this dream, being nothing less than life, should slowly come back to her. She gets up, staggers towards the center of the room, and gradually regains full control of her muscles.

Nobody comes, as usual. She is alone.

A light current of fresh air slips into the room and caresses her ruddy, rough skin. The ventilation works, yet an infernal heat, supplemented by ridiculous humidity reigns in the laboratory. Even the ceiling can't hold back a few tears.

The beast advances, and quickly faces a long mirror covered with fog. With a quick wave of her hand, she removes the opacity from her center and reveals her tyrannical reflection. She seems to be one with the back of the room. His dark, pure-blooded skin mingles with his charcoal mane, almost matching the wall patterns, albeit much more linear and strict. Her gaze descends as the light from the mirror spreads along her naked body. His eyes finally land on her hips. A big scar was born on his right side a few days ago. Today, she was just a stupid memory.

His daily amniotic bath was more than just a substitute for bacta or kolto, which destroyed his cells incredibly fast. It was also an effective way to fall asleep. A monster like her had to recover at night, often even for several days in a row, but without total immersion in this product, it was almost impossible for her to sleep a wink. Born to offer souls to the Force, his body refused him.

A familiar voice suddenly comes out of a loudspeaker. A deep voice, powerful but calm, having circulated through the filter of a mask.

“Project 191625, report to room -9. »

This voice is that of its creator. The one who designed it. His architect and his mentor… if such a thing existed. The only person she obeyed, other than the Emperor himself of course. The dark and mysterious member of the great Dark Council, responsible for the sphere of Intelligence and Intelligence, and of course the Project...

Darth Jadus.

Without waiting, the pureblood sith turns around, takes a few almost robotic steps, and positions herself inside a square shower. As soon as you get in, the pipes start up and about twenty jets of pure water, crystalline but icy, furiously spray the soulless body on all sides, from small holes in the marble walls. A white marble mixing with a purple obsidian in strange spirals and other random shapes. After five seconds, the valves close. The sith, just as artificial as the liquid she has just removed from her andrinople skin, does not flinch and then walks towards an iron cupboard, at the other end of the room. The noise it emits when it opens is similar to the cry of the shyracks of Korriban, a planet where it has never set foot. The cupboard is empty, except at the very bottom, where there is a white silk towel. The soft fabric is so light, so pure, so clean. It's almost ironic.

She sits up, pulls off the veil and observes it for just a few seconds, then turns her back to the cupboard and ties the thin towel around her body, diagonally, leaving one shoulder bare, the other holding the tiny weight of the habit. She pulls back her long dark hair and loosens it over her covered back. They moisten the textile and make it transparent in certain places. Below, his shoulder blades creak. She stretches her neck, then the latter cracks too. Her whole body looks like it hasn't moved in months...how long was she asleep...?

Regardless, his master was waiting.

She wrings out the two small braids that fall from her temples, and walks towards the elevator.

The iron and steel machine welcomes him into its mouth, and slowly closes its side jaws, enclosing the cherry-skinned beast. The cage leaves the lab on floor -16, and goes up the long throat of a bigger metal monster.

It's dark, the air is dry, and the only indications of movement from inside the cramped cabin are the slight change in gravity and small white lights racing downward at regular intervals.

Floor -15. The training room. The room where she had spent the longest time of her life in a waking state. Droids, creatures of all kinds, jedi... What entered the arena of this killing ground never came back to the surface to tell what it had seen there.

The beast closes its eyes for a moment. She remains motionless, standing in the center of the noisy elevator. She knows what awaits her today...

Floor -14. The Resh Zerek room, initials in honor of an important person no doubt... she never knew. A large empty room leading to several narrow, dark, unknown corridors. A room full of silly mysteries and a place of recurring dialogue between her and Jadus. It is also the closest place to the surface the Sith has ever visited.

The cage accelerates its ascent slightly, and the pureblood blocks her own thoughts. His questions, his expectations, his own imagination of the unknown. This is all for the weak. She doesn't have to think. She is here to act without arguing, without having opinions or questions.

Floor -13. The whole floor is sealed in perpetuity, impossible to enter since the laboratory specializing in diseases and biological weapons experienced a security breach. Since the incident, such dangerous projects have been carried out far from the population, on isolated worlds.

Something tickles the reddish woman's toe. An eight-legged cockroach tries to chew on its fingernail with its strange vertical mandibles. Her repulsive purple eyes and foul carapace crinkle the sith's garnet nose. She lifts her big toe, causing the insect to fall onto her back, then lays it on her exposed belly, and squeezes slowly. A yellowish, putrid and viscous juice drips from each side, joint and orifice of the vermin which continues to agitate its slender, hooked limbs desperately. When the toe touches the floor of the cage, the only movements of the paws wading through granulated mush are the reflexes of a corpse.

Floor -12. The Osk, Esk and Aurek laboratories. All harboring secrets of the Empire. None are as big or secret as Project 191625, but their isolation and secrecy make them ghost legends. Only about fifty people, scientists, researchers and other robotics specialists work there, day and night.

She traces an arc on the ground with her stained toe. A loathsome mark spreads and the elevator slows. She's almost arrived.

Floor -11. Center for machines, droid repairs and engines of all kinds, as well as the basics of ventilation for the long tunnel in which she lives.

This is probably where the vermin came from. Life always finds a way. But what kind of path did she think she would take as she descended into the pandemonium of the Sith Empire?  ? In the undergrounds of the citadel of Kaas City  ?...

Floor -10. Not really a floor... just a layer of concrete alloyed with quadanium. A horizontal door, but one story thick... Serious protection. The elevator shaft, the only passage through this layer, can easily be chewed through by the phirk-toothed insulated doors in an emergency...

At last...

Floor -9.

The Scarlet Room.

The elevator doors, black as volcanic rock, open before the blazing eyes of the pureblood, revealing to her the powerful red of the great room.

She stares at the ground, clenches her fists, and walks without saying a word in the room, towards the figure who is seated in her center, and who is waiting for her.

Everything is red. The floor smooth and reflecting like a mirror, the high rocky ceiling and its strange stalactites of all shapes and sizes, even the little mist which conceals them very badly by sneaking between these tears of stone. The room has no corners, but it is not round. All that remains of another color seems to be the elevator's dark interior, which closes with reddish outer doors, the dark homespun figure waiting for it, the blackish hair of the young sith, and her own white outfit that bursts with contrast with its environment and seems to resist it. Its own madder skin is unaffected by lighting and blends seamlessly.

The strangest remains the walls, which seem to contain life, so much there is animation, not in their structure, but in their tints... Strange shapes, curves and folds, create unusual exotic shadows in movement on their ghostly surface. The multiple shades of red they produce dance like a glowing inferno in slow motion, like clouds in a slow blood storm, or a battle of spirits trapped behind those ruby walls.

"  Approach, my child...  says the old figure, in ancient dark Sith garb, on his vermilion throne of hewn stone.

The congested woman walks up the first incarnadine steps, then bends one knee and keeps her gaze lowered, her tense knuckles resting on the warm floor.

"  Do you know who I am  ?  asks the old man.

His ultimate allure on this ancient throne, his central presence in this infernal room, his gaze pale as a dead man who has seen the ages go by... She knows very well who he is.

"  You are my Emperor. The great Dark Vitiate.  the harsh, grave voice of the pureblood replies.

The man under his hood is satisfied. He leans forward and examines the unique creation in front of him.

Her posture submissive and ready to die at his command, her hair as dark as her being, her glowing figure with forms so perfect and so raw, so muscular, while remaining largely feminine, almost sensual, yet hidden by a ridiculous white veil. A true sith monster.

"  Jadus says you're ready...  “, he begins. The sith raises her culvert eyes to him, but keeps her head down. "  You passed your last tests successfully, you showed that your loyalty was unwavering and you understood that your failure was never tolerable. You actually exceeded our expectations... And today, Project 191625... you are complete.  »

At that precise moment, Darth Jadus enters. His cold figure leaves the elevator doors and walks behind the back of his favorite project. His faceless metal mask hides all expression, as always.

"  I was born to please my Emperor.  calmly asserts the crimson woman. "  My achievements are born through the genius of your Excellency and the spirit of Lord Jadus. My death will be my only reward in case of failure, and it will be an honor.  »

"  And modest, with that... Perfect.  Tenebrae almost chuckles, leaning back in her Korriban bloodstone chair.

The sith looks down again. Behind her, to her right, Jadus stops and clasps his own wrist behind his back. He proudly announces  :

"  Project 191625 is a total success my Lord. With her in our hands the Republic will lose this war and be forgotten. I propose a disembarkation within the following seventy-two hours, at the planned coordinates. The Jedi will retrieve the package themselves. I took care of it personally.  »

The Emperor gloats in silence and hugs the armrests of his throne. His proud air is so rare.

"  They won't expect anything... perfect Jadus... perfect.  »

Her small black eyes gleam below her hood. When he looks away from the great sith, he returns to the small creature that still keeps its knees on the ground. He seems to be thinking seriously.

"  Project 191625... Not exactly the right name for a... padawan... don't you think?  ?...  »

The pureblood raises her face of corrupted fire again.

"  Ryfs... Yes... Ryfs, seems more appropriate to me... What do you say my child  ?  »

"  It's an honor, master.  “replies the woman without moving.

"  Well... Jadus, get her ready. Let Project 191625 finally begin...  »

Raising his fist, the Emperor dissolves the secret meeting. Jadus and his little project bow down and then turn around. As they leave, the ghostly moving shapes of the walls darken and give way to shades of crimson, purple and black.

The Great Masked Sith now walks with her. Slightly behind, to his left, his gaze, like that of the pureblood, stares at the elevator straight ahead. Their pace is fast.

"  See you in an hour in room -7, you will find your complete equipment and your weapon there. You will only have to hide your appearance after you leave the planet. For the rest, you know the details. Meditate in the meantime. It's a great day for the Empire. It's almost a pity that no one will know.  »

He stops walking for a moment and lets the little woman pass first. Before she can reach the elevator controls, he stops her.

"  Ryfs...  »

She freezes, turns her head a few degrees and listens intently. His almost paternal voice resounds in his metal helmet. His icy air, however, denies any attachment. His massive and upright posture mixing his powerful excitement with his heavy responsibilities.

"  No witnesses, no suspicion. If we discover your identity, do it quickly and discreetly. As per usual.  »

"  Yes... my master.  »