jaigvision.

     _{The clone found it near impossible to take in his surroundings.  The voice of his long-lost brother reverberating through his helmet,  the hard material  RELENTLESSLY  squeezing around the circumference of his head,  refusing to let go of its taught grip.  Rex stood motionless,  unable to take his gaze from the blank wall standing menacingly in front of him littered with what seemed to be a bookcase;  what was left of it at least.  Now,  it stood  BARREN ,  lifeless for so long.  The bookcase stood loud and proud over the clone captain,  continuing to be the image of all his pain and torture.}

     _{Anxiety ate away at the clones usually thick skin.  “  Brother,  I’m sorry.  I couldn’t do anything else,  ”  he managed to mutter through gritted teeth.  As uncharacteristic as it was,  Rex found a tear developing in one eye,  the memories  TEARING AT HIS EMOTIONS .  For a being,  that was never meant to feel any attachments or emotions.  Rex found that a lie.  He,  (  his brothers  )  was more than that,  capable of so much more,  whether others could come to terms with that or not,  the clone couldn’t care less.}

     _{Rex pulls the helmet from his head,  setting it down gently on the corroding table beside him.  Stepping towards the bleak book frame,  now,  wishing the guilt would leave him be,  however,  that wasn’t to be the case.  He tried to ignore the voice of his former brother and friend as best he could.  Though,  little could he do to  RESENT THE PULL  to the darkness.  It wasn’t like Fives to blame Rex for his unfortunate demise but the evil that still lurked the halls try to tell him otherwise;  and right now,  it was working to its full potential  (  on both men  ).}

     _{The clone captain ran a heavy gloved hand across the dusty metallic frame,  jumping back from the furniture almost as quickly as he laid hands on it.  It felt cold;  a deathly feel to it.  Every movement felt forced against his will,  his head, a scrambled mess of  MIXED EMOTIONS  breaking the clone down piece by piece until he was a quivering mess.  Images of not just his fallen brother but all of his fallen brothers before him;  the blame entirely on the clone  captain.  Rex fell backwards,  tripping over his own feet,  his head rebounding against the table.  He sits down,  knees pushed close to his chest,  running a smooth hand over his blonde hair.} 

     _{“  Brothers,  please…  ”  he bellows,  another tear liquidating under the same eyelid.  His hands rest over his eyes,  hiding from the darkness within.}

     _{An echo could easily be distinguished above the others,  this one,  however,  was non-fictional.  “  SIR !?!  ”  He shouted,  his head perking from beneath its fictional prison.  However,  his cry was met without an answer.  “  Sir?! ” He shouted once again.  Just like before,  his plea was met with silence.  Now standing from his perch,  his trance all but  DISAPPEARING  in a heartbeat.  His commander’s life meant so much more than his own,  (  at least in his mind  )  and ensuring his safety was always his top priority,  even if he was having the same mental problems himself.  A loud crash vibrated through his armour,  throwing him back in his paces,  though,  little did it do to stop him coming to Anakin’s rescue.}

     _{Rex stands at the door,  being greeted by a kneeling Jedi figurette.  His options were limited,  though, finding the right one still remained a challenge.  He told himself otherwise to approach the broken-minded Jedi,  thinking better of the situation.  Instead,  he stood still at the door,  his frame leaning lazily against it.  “  Sir?  ”  He would once again call from the confines of the door frame.  This time,  he was met with a reply of some sorts.  though,  definitely not the one he was expecting.  A  constricting feeling of fingers gently wrapping around his neck.  Each breath was harder to come by as  IMAGINARY TALONS  gripped to the clone captain’s neck.  “  Sir,  please!  ”  He managed in the most uncomfortable of circumstances. Hands eagerly clasping to his neck being of no use to him.  “  General!  ”  He coughed with all his strength.}

               PRESSURE SURGES BENEATH his hands, && Anakin punches forward with blind eyes— reaching instinctively with his other hand to bury his thumbs deep in the provided larynx. It’s the cry of a sickeningly familiar voice that lodges a rift in his action. 

               Sir, please! General!
                                                                …Rex?

               Horror folds around his senses, stewing in the panicked demands that charge him, calling for violence && what reprieve he could glean from it. A concert of low voices thrum around Anakin, fragments of primordial hymns && chanting pleas, && the pitched calls of children falling through a void with no end. A presence sits in the margins, defined by all different forces; a subtle pull on his senses swirling around a new center of gravity. The holocron. 

               Anakin bellows, a roar of dissent ripped free from pressurized clutch of his lungs, his hands lifting from the impression of a man’s throat to clap across his ears— futilely attempting to block out the cacophony of voices battering his senses. Behind his eyes he sees silver phosphenes boiling in from the edge of space, hypnagogic images jerking past like archaic strips of holo film compiled into a series of random, ongoing frames. Symbols, figures, faces; a blurred, fragmented mandala of visual information. && then, a simple lozenge of white light, leading him into the present, back into the stilled darkness, to three walls && Rex gasping for breath before his feet. 

               ❝ Rex! ❞ He wraps his hands around the clone’s shoulders to steady him, a great && terrible regret stoppering the worried flow of his words. Guilt burns a furious hole in his gut, running into a hot line of shame that shoots up through his ribcage. How could he have lost control like that? He could’ve killed Rex in his confusion, lost between worlds && Force-induced nightmares. What kind of holocron is strong enough to instill that kind of hysteria in a person? Let alone, someone trained in the Force. No wonder no one has ever ventured into this temple before now. For most, stepping through those doors is a death sentence. 

     ❝ I’m sorry… I’m sorry— I didn’t know it was you. The holocron… ❞ Anakin’s eyes drop to his grip on the other man, wary of the hands that have the heart to choke out his second-in-command. But clarity rushes in, overwriting terror with adrenaline in the meantime. ❝ I know where the holocron is. ❞ No more obscurity, no more awareness lost to an inanimate object’s mind games. That holocron needs to be destroyed, or locked up away where it can never fall into the wrong hands. 

               Spidery beams of natural light glisten across the planes && angles of Anakin’s face, the thin lines of strain around his mouth && a suffering squint to his eyes, until shadowplay washes them aside. ❝ The faster we can get to that holocron the faster we can out of this place. ❞ He gropes for the pommel of his lightsaber, not yet trusting himself to use the Force so soon after lashing out at Rex. ❝ C’mon. ❞ Blue light floods across his features, straining them severe && deeply contrasted. ❝ Follow me. ❞