The statement surprised both Dormé and Rush, causing them to pause momentarily to absorb the information. It appeared to be a simple fact that Padmé had presented, speaking the truth without divulging too much, but she immediately regretted it as she felt Vader's cold gaze shift toward her and witnessed Rush's surprise morph into an even more sinister emotion.
"Saving someone? That's not like you, Vader," Rush scolded with a laugh, raising his eyebrow as he turned back to the Sith Lord. "Trying to be a good guy, huh?"
Vader's silence visibly boosted Rush's confidence, prompting him to approach the Sith in a mocking manner.
"I have to say," he smiled, crossing his arms over his chest and raising both eyebrows. "You have been getting softer. I mean," he gestured while shrugging his shoulders, "you couldn't even kill me. That doesn't sound like a true big bad Sith Lord."
At Rush's comment, Vader made the first sign of acknowledgment that he was listening to Rush: his head turned slightly, and the air around them felt dramatically heavier. They all sensed a change, but Rush chose to ignore it, focusing solely on the fact that Vader still did not speak.
"That's what I thought," Rush laughed, stepping closer to Vader once more. He looked up at the Dark Lord, who loomed over him, revealing no hint of fear. "You're a slave, Vader..." he whispered, his voice dark and confident. "You're merely a puppet in a larger game being played. You project such power, yet you are nothing. You can't act unless your master commands you. I see through your game. You can't hurt me." With that, Rush turned his back on Vader, gesturing for him to leave with a flick of his wrist. "Run back to your master like the pet you are. It's what slaves do."
Vader's movements were too swift for anyone to comprehend; the attack ended before it even began. The chill and darkness that enveloped the air were almost instantaneous, yet nothing compared to the sounds and scents that followed.
Padmé vaguely recalled the sound of ignition and a strange buzzing, accompanied by a flash of black and a glow of red, followed by screams. She felt Dormé's arms enveloping them, somehow keeping both grounded where they had fallen with their eyes closed. Their evident reaction was fear, stemming from their personal anxieties and from one another. The silence offered only solace, and when Padmé finally managed to open her eyes, she saw Vader's retreating figure fade into the morning darkness. Her gaze remained fixed on him, on the spot where he had vanished until Dormé let out a bloodcurdling scream. Jerking her head toward the sound, she followed Dormé's terrified gaze, and the sight made her blood run cold: the lifeless, deformed, and severed body of Rush Clovis.
Madness. No other word could describe it. It was utter madness.
The earth trembled beneath his feet; buildings shuddered as he passed, and the crowds parted like a vast sea in his wake. The entire planet seemed to freeze and then explode as if Hell itself had frozen over and the Devil had descended upon the streets.
In a sense, he had.
Darth Vader prowled the streets of Coruscant as he moved away from the Senate Apartment Complex. It was a terrifying sight for anyone who beheld it. Typically, Vader moved stealthily in the shadows to maintain his cover, but he now found himself lacking both caution and time. Delaying the inevitable served no purpose, and he feared that if he proceeded too slowly, he would only make the situation worse.
He didn't know where he was headed; he just knew he needed to escape from that place.
The crowds parted to let him pass. Anyone who saw Vader dashed for cover, realizing that if they valued their lives, they needed to move out of his way. Every being he passed could feel the intense anger surging within him. Vader rarely roamed the streets; shadows and darkness were his domain. If the Dark Lord chose the streets instead of his shadows, something was truly amiss.
Screams. Screams surrounded him, yet Vader felt an unsettling silence. His breath was too loud. He couldn't hear the screams over the thunderous pounding of his heart in his ears. He couldn't revel in the horror. He couldn't savor the noise. He couldn't feel it. All he could feel was… rage.
Rage. Fiery, intense rage. It consumed him completely, engulfing him until nothing remained except a burning desire to kill.
He longed to kill over and over until the wretched streets beneath his feet ran red with blood.
He needed to kill. He thirsted for it. He craved it. It was an acquired taste he had inherited from years of acclimation under Maul's control. Now, that hunger felt insatiable.
Vader's fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to maintain control, suppressing the urge to kill everyone in his path. He knew that doing so would displease his master, yet he was unable to quiet the hunger. After obliterating the nuisance known as Rush Clovis, Vader craved more blood, more suffering, and more death. It had been too long since he had quenched his thirst, and his desire only intensified.
The creature within him roared, clawing to be free.
The monster craved blood, yet the man struggled to maintain control. He second-guessed his decision to spare the insignificant pests around him. They didn't deserve his mercy. After all, they were merely inconsequential little creatures that held no significance in the galaxy. He knew countless methods to eliminate the onlookers surrounding him and could make all those incidents appear as accidents.
He could eliminate such slums from the galaxy with a single swipe of his blade, just a flick of his wrist. It would be so simple… so easy…
Or better yet, he should turn back and eliminate the senator from Naboo. He knew she would pose a problem. He didn't understand how he knew it, but he did. More than anything, he felt that truth deep within his soul. It wasn't so much the Force that whispered to him; in fact, the Force swirled pleasantly and intriguingly around the woman, yet something inside him screamed to rid himself of her.
.
.
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