Screams....everywhere. Not just one or two or three, there were hundreds of screams. Begging, crying and dying.
A flash of memory, forcing the deepest parts of ones mind to succumb to its arrival, little choice for it...never a choice for it.
It was a man...screaming, the environment was foggy, thick and dark. Illuminated only by the periodic passing of red and blue.
He was on the floor, armoured and....and.
The memory refuses to acknowledge it, only seeing what it wants you to see, what it allowed to stay.
He stared back, desperate, begging but most of all, the most important of it all - trusting.
One can remember, the ignition. One can remember, the color as that of a red sun passing through the atmosphere of a planet capable of life.
As bright as a flower with petals, reminding one of dusk and setting.
One can remember, the push...the reluctance and the scream. One can remember, the smell of burning flesh..mixed with the putrid stench of dirt and death.
One can remember....one will remember the arm, the tears. He lives...and that is all that matters.
Memories....Memories are reminders of the past, they are as much life as you are even if only in your head. As such, they can and will act in a manner that one cannot possibly predict.
As such, it shifts. Like water changing it surface with each different frequency of touch, each inconsistent echo bringing about a different wave.
One can remember, darkness and a vastness as deep as an endless sea of blood. Uncaring and ruthless.
Hundreds lost to the void, to the emptiness. So many gone forever.
One must remember the sacrifice, the deaths and the risks. The sacrifices YOU HAVE ENDURED.
" Dastard voice "
....
One must remember, the wishes and the dreams. The feeling of hope, love, betrayal and pain. Of suffering and of anger.
One must remember the rage, the rage of not one but the many. Of thousands and of fhe few, the few that are present, the few that are not longer.
The sound of a saber igniting as the air around it burst into hot steam, smoking and burning for many to sense distances away.
It was swung, lightly and with control, a precise cut that turned its target into a uniformed outlook.
One would think that the heat from such a weapon would burn through or even ignite the more organic target it hit but that was not the case.
The target - a veiny looking wall - simply stood cold, seemingly unbothered by the heat generated by the saber.
Still, it was broken through and now was going to get cut open....at least, that was the idea.
When the saber attempted to move, it met significant resistance like trying to cut through the reinforced doors of a ship meant to survive the full firepower of a ship.
Worse yet was that the distance made was quickly erased as the wall seemed to heal itself, even going as far as trying to heal the hole created by the sabers current position.
One could feel that the longer the saber stayed, the longer it will be devoured. The life force of its crystal simmered away like wool on yarn.
He pulled it out, choosing not to take any risk. The planet was much stranger than anticipated. So he decided to walk around it...if it was even possible.
One can always know, upon appropriate knowledge, the ways of the unknown. One could see, the very edge before the climb was ever taken.
One must remember, teachings are only teachings, more so passed down by the trained and from its core - the founder.
One must remember the pride, the pride of leadership, the pride of victory, the pride of success...the pride of death.
He had been walking around here for hours if not days, his stomach churned for food and his throat dry from thirst. The darkness did not help his state of mind for he could not tell whether it was always night or whether it was just his senses being shrouded.
He had fought many things here, animals , beasts....he had faced an onslaught that he was not sure the others would survive from but he had faith...faith and the singular hope that the faint connection he felt...was real.
One must remember that the mind decieves, that the mind yearns for comfort and so it shall have it whether through illusion or twisted nature.
One must act with will, for only through will is the path paved. One can know this only if one should know this. One must open one's mind as much as one should close it.
He was sure he was poisoned, the feeling in his guts, the strained pain in his bones, the fatigue of his mind and that...that voice.
He had not know when it started only that it has been there. It...sounded like his own voice, his own mind but he wasn't sure. He wasn't....he did not even know if it was he that was speaking and if so, whether it was aloud...or not.
One must believe as much as one must act, for belief is a choice and to act is the result of a choice. One must understand the nature of things to claim true connection.
He paused, frowning at the foggy distance before him. He could sense something, something his eyes couldn't quite figure out. He couldn't even hear it yet but...but he could sense it.
It approached, carefully...tensely, like a child scared to approach.
But...it was...wrong.
He ignited his saber and positioned himself to fight, his mind slowly drifting to question when he had even turned it off.
One must understand the importance of concentration, one must understand the importance of focus. As such, one should focus as much as he should concentrate.
He grimaced, the sentences coming out of that thing in his head were becoming less meaningful by the minute. The sentence was practically the same thing.
It was not.
....
....
" I need to get off this planet " he said, his lips parting way to give words and for the first time in a good while...he felt himself.
"GRAHHHHHHHHH"
A scream alerted him as the tense presence of earlier suddenly shot up and covered a distance that it humanely shouldn't have.
Suddenly, he felt something clash against his blade which he moved instinctively. The force of the clash pushing him back so much that his legs struggled to keep standing.
Even with the light of the saber, he could not see what had clashed against him. It was like he was practically blind.
He disengaged, swinging his saber for a decapitation but it was met with little success. The figure clashed was once, screaming at him so loudly that he felt his mind become weak and wobbly.
Like it had a body of its own that now crumbled on its own weight.
He pushed, gliding his saber across the skin of the figure, he felt contact but he also felt resistance.
' what sort of armor could this thing be possibly wearing?' He thought to himself as he slashed again and again.
One must remember that a weapon is but a tool and it has never been the most effective solutions by itself.
He ignited the other end of his saber then detached the two heads from each other, enveloping himself with renewed vigor - he took up a more aggressive push.
One must understand aggression without control is simply instinct without any regard for survival. One must remember the qualms of combat and understand the flow of liquid.
He thrusted, pushing one saber through the figure as the other defended his head from an attack.
Once more, the saber was redirected like it had hit concrete and was nothing more than a wooden stick.
Still, he was gaining ground. Pushing whatever was attacking him back and further away from their initial position...but he could not continue forever.
This was a losing battle from him.
One must know that beasts hunt in groups and such groups do not stray far from each other.
" Yearrrrehaaaaaa"
" Hackkkkarghhhhhh"
" Rahhhhhhhhhh"
Just then, to his utter dismay and dread. He heard the screams and soon, felt the presence of many more similar figures to this very one.
"Dank Farrik"
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Notes
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Fish-