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The Sith Academy on Dromund Kaas seemed to be devoid of any living being as they followed behind Darth Vowrawn.

Their trial had concluded with Varrus successfully becoming the elder Sith's cannon fodder.

Darth Vowrawn didn't say much, and only beckoned they follow him.

And so, Varrus found himself trekking down dark, unfamiliar corridors.

Constant lightning, and innumerable gallons of water pounded upon the outter walls. The planet seemed to roar with a repressed spite.

It was as if Dromund Kaas was a bound giant, struggling to rage free of its confines.

Yet these sounds only served as the backdrop for the cloying, suffocating feeling harbored within these halls.

The planet, raw with powerful primordial potential had been tamed by the Sith, and it seemed to lash out every chance it got.

The rain, lightning and thunder all served to fuel the Sith Academy. Dark powers suffused the air he breathed, and the ground he walked.

Every step, every inhalation, every waking moment had Varrus feel as if he was but a piece of cloth, helplessly fluttering within the storm.

His consciousness felt weak, as if his only tether to this world was a clothesline. Any more pressure, and it would snap.

To top it off, a deep resonance beat within the academy. This school, this temple dedicated to the Dark Side pulsed like a heart. The walls shifted and moved in time, and a strange melody rang in Varrus's mind.

The song built up feelings of fear and anxiety within Varrus. It pressed upon, and surrounded him.

The Hymn was an ever present sensation driving him to the brink of madness.

If he didn't know better, Varrus would suspect speakers were embedded within the numerous statues that lined these venerable halls.

Unfortunately, he knew better.

Dromund Kaas was a nexus for the Dark Side. Countless generations of Sith plotting, rage, and genocide had molded this already tainted planet into one of unmitigated horror.

Uncontrollable emotions bubbled to the surface of his psyche. Lust, pride, wrath, avarice, all his vices pushed to the fore, threatening to explode.

Furthermore, whenever he blinked, it was as if he could see something just out of the corner of his eye.

So he didn't blink.

It took all his willpower to maintain his composure, and follow behind the Dark Lord of the Sith as they made their way to who knew where.

A small ping drew his attention to the corner of his eye.

[Force Sensitive lvl 1 -> lvl 2]

It was little comfort, however. Because the more sensitive he became, the louder the voices.

Darth Vowran briefly paused in his stride to direct half a grin Varrus's way, before continuing on once more.

Two hateful glares bore holes into Varrus from the side.

Varrus could only twitch from the combined attention.

These two fools only knew of the petty squabbles between academy students. They had no concept of the horror an old Sith sorcerer like Vowrawn could conjure up.

'Stepping stones for your ascent'

Eventually, they came to a stop at a four-way corridor.

And waited.

And waited.

Varrus took this time to take stock of his possessions. Strapped to his back were one of those goofy electric shock practice sabers.

Unable to block blasters or light sabers, its only purpose was to inflict pain between Acolytes. A fitting weapon for a Sith fledgling, but utterly useless for the coming war.

Other than that, he was in possession of 10,220 credits. Not enough to buy a freighter, but it was an impressive sum.

If memory served correct, most basic weapons and armor in games like KOTOR 2 cost between 1,000 and 2,000 credits.

A decent piece of armor, such as Mandalorian armor should be around 5k credits, and the really good stuff was around 10-20k.

Varrus decided that given the opportunity, he would upgrade his gear before he was shipped out to the front lines. A bare bones cloth robe and electric training saber were not acceptable.

The snap hiss of a lightsaber igniting broke Varrus from his musings.

"Did we startle you, Darth Ravage? I had thought you all tied up with the Mandalorian matter. Yet here you are with a youngling. Another apprentice perhaps?" Vowrawn cheerfully smiled despite the lightsaber humming not three feet from his face. In fact, he slightly leaned closer to take a closer look.

"Put that away fool." Ravage scowled at the pale, sickly looking youth standing beside him.

"Yes Master!" The young man hurriedly obeyed, and deactivated his lightsaber.

"It just so happens, I have some Acolytes of my own. How about a friendly match?" Vowrawn said, his tone dignified and statesman-like.

Ravage seemed to stare murder into Vowrawn's calm smile.

Varrus felt the air twist and warp around him. A metal tang entered his mouth, and the Dark whispers sounded like white noise.

"The academy dregs? I've seen them before Master, I'm not afraid!" The young man declared.

"Excellent! Krawl, a demonstration if you would!" Vowrawn called out without turning around.

Ravage's face rapidly twisted and contorted between various states. His nose flared one moment, then his teeth the next.

Varrus hesitantly stepped forward as the other Dark Council member seemed to barely keep himself in check from violence.

But this was the way of the Sith. If Darth Ravage blatantly backed out now, he would be seen as a craven.

Vowrawn may not spread any rumors, but this is something he would always be able to hold over Ravage should he chicken out.

Based on Vowrawn's barely concealed smirk, the elder Sith knew it too.

Varrus almost wanted to laugh at Ravage.

They had been waiting here for the last half hour in anticipation for this. Ravage had quite literally walked right into Vowrawn's trap.

The fact that Ravage didn't stop his apprentice from igniting his lightsaber ahead of time showed that he hadn't sensed Vowrawn. His lack of ability likely only served to fuel his rage.

At the same time, Varrus took note of this.

The ability to mask oneself in the force was often rare to come across. If he had an opportunity to learn from the Dark Lord before he went to war, this is what he would ask for.

"Maldrous, teach this swine a lesson." Ravage eventually bit out.

Varrus didn't recognize the name, but his name seemed to evoke a reaction from the Human and Twi'lek. Feelings of trepidation colored his fellow Acolytes signature within the Force.

Chances were, Maldrous was something special in the Academy. He had to be if he was accepted as the apprentice of a Dark Councilor.

Vowrawn made way for Varrus with a smile. The Dark Lord of the Sith deliberately leaked a feeling as if he were watching a prized dog go out to fight.

A mountain of anger spiked across Varrus's psyche. He was no dog!

Without saying a word, Varrus unleashed a torrent of lightning in an attempt to catch the unhealthily pale man by surprise.

Maldrous only just got his lightsaber up in time to block it. He slowly walked toward Varrus under the pressure.

Varrus slowly took a step back. Then another.

His lightning just didn't generate enough force to push Maldrous back.

Disdain assailed him from every side. It was as if every step back was a slap to Vowrawn's face.

"It is not me you are shaming." Vowrawn spoke quietly.

Somehow, Varrus heard his voice over the sharp crackle of lightning.

At that point, Varrus felt the gaze of dozens of statues looking down at him. Their glares seemed to penetrate his very soul.

A thousand years of Sith tradition weighed down upon his mind. Pain assaulted his brain as whispering voices sang of his cowardice.

Varrus held his eyes tight in an attempt to ease the psychic burden. It was then that he saw It staring back at him.

In a rush, the white noise exploded, and the accumulated Sith Hymn chorus was like a balm to his spirit.

This entire time, Varrus had been fighting back against the cloying suffocation. He stubbornly maintained his tether to his former reality like a lifeline.

This world, this universe, it wasn't his. He did not belong here.

But what if.

What if he let go?

What if he let himself drown in the Dark Side?

For a brief pause, Varrus released his lightning, and embraced his vices.

Pride, lust, greed, and wrath became unchained.

The vast energy swirling like a maelstrom around him settled, and became still.

It felt as if he could wrap himself in the cold void, or warm himself in the hottest inferno, such was his connection to the Force.

[Force Sensitive lvl 2 -> lvl 5]

He was at peace with who he was.

Varrus kept his eyes closed. He didn't need them open to see the lightsaber cutting down at him.

Maldrous's movements seemed oh so predictable. His intentions were abundantly clear.

Was he really terrified of this trash a moment ago?

Varrus's smile was tranquil as he gracefully twirled to Maldrous's side, narrowly evading the murderous bar of plasma, and shoved his fingers into Maldrous's eyes.

Maldrous didn't have time to scream.

Lightning coursed through the apprentice's skull, such that his skeleton was visible.

The apprentice fell to the floor twitching and convulsing, his face a charred mess.

Varrus raised his hand for another blast to finish him off.

"Stay your hand Acolyte. It would be improper for one of such low standing to finish off his superior. A Dark Lord's apprentice is a sacred role, wouldn't you agree, Ravage?"

"That's no apprentice of mine." Ravage scowled, then power walked out of the corridor.

"Excellent performance Krawl. I have high expectations of you." Vowrawn floated the lightsaber into Varrus's hands, and resumed his walk.

Varrus grinned like a kid unboxing his gifts on Christmas.

The red beam of plasma gently hummed in his hands much to his delight.

THIS was a lightsaber!

Varrus waved it back and forth a couple times, lost in its hypnotic hum.

The intense feelings of jealousy and hatred coming from the Human and Twi'lek only widened his grin.

Varrus would be jealous too if one of them claimed the lightsaber as their prize.

He would have to keep his senses dialed up when interacting with them moving forward.

Betrayal was the Sith's creed, afterall.

Smirking at the thought, Varrus had a feeling that if he killed them now, he would level up. The risk seemed minimal after completing Vowrawn's little game. Any punishment-if there was one-would be light.

The crimson glow transfixed his gaze. His blade sang for blood, goading him on to take action.

'Fruit is best enjoyed ripe.'

That was right, he couldn't allow short term gains to outway his goal. Leveling was a grind. He had spent days of his life studying, working, going to school and the gym. What were a few months or a couple years?

Varrus raised the saber high. He joyfully breathed in the panic of his fellow Acolytes, then brought it down into Maldrous's chest.

Varrus gave a side eyed glance to the pair, deactivated the lightsaber, then hurried to catch up to Darth Vowrawn.

He would wait for his compatriots to level up, and increase their EXP value.

Afterall, what kind of farmer would he be if he took the harvest early?