"You're an Ahamkara!" Malikeith yelled out. He reached to rip of the gauntlet, but as he looked at its scales, he was tempted to leave it on. [i]"I can give you the ancient powers of Naedar. Those that made him infamous amongst the Reschee people... I only ask of one thing."[/i] The voice slithered through his head, playing with his thoughts. Malikeith cringed tightly, trying to get the voice out. He thrashed around the room, hands on his helmet. Visions of a tower in flames flashed before his eyes. Then, one of a battle; a battle between Guardians and innumerable beings wrapped in red. A war was nigh. [i]"Your King's rule is no longer fit. Under Ankara, Tau'la will burn by the Her hands! With this ancient power, you will be able to save your people. Then, the Dark Tyrant who threatens all will bow to you..."[/i] "What do you ask of me?" Malikeith asked. He stopped fighting the voice in his head. [i]"Show no mercy to those who oppose you! Take their Light for yourself as punishment! Give tithe to me as a feast. Oh, bearer mine..."[/i] "As you wish..." Malikeith said softly. "Malikeith!" Luther yelled, running into the chamber. The man, lost staring into the Void, snapped out of his daze. He looked back at his arm, then to Luther. "It wasn't the Fallen. I guess it was just the wind outside..." the archeologist stared at Malikeith's arm. "What... is that?" "Oh, it was what I found in here-- the only thing. I would bet it belonged to the 'Naedar, Lord of Serpents'." Malikeith cringed behind his helmet. [i]"Careful how you speak those words, Malikeith! Naedar was no lord of mine!"[/i] Said the voice dwelling in the man's head. "I would agree. It looks very... powerful, for lack of a better word," Luther reached down to feel the scales, but Malikeith drew back his arm. Luther looked up with concern. "Uh... I don't like people touching me," Malikeith said. "Um... Right," Luther replied as he stood back up. "I'll look at it before we take it back to King Ta'Chal." [i]"This relic must never reach the hands of the unjust king!"[/i] Dûr "yelled" in the Guardian's ear. Malikeith jerked his head to the side. Luther cocked his head. "Are... Are you okay?" He asked. Malikeith rubbed his neck. "I could use more sleep," he replied. Luther chuckled. "Couldn't we all?" The two continued to explore. The deeper they went into the temple, the more branches of crypts filled with sarcophagi. Malikeith's head swelled with the voice of the Ahamkara. [i]"These are the victims of Naedar. Every one of them drained of Light-- they were Risen like you-- but not one of these were beyond the walls of Allt Sjándi, they all dwelled here."[/i] [i]"He killed his own people?!"[/i] Malikeith exclaimed in his head. He looked to his friend, who simply stared at the writing on the walls. [i]"Why?"[/i] [i]"The gauntlet you wear, the gauntlet of Naedar, was is conduit of power-- as it is yours now. Through it, Naedar was able to wield the Law of Conquest, the sword logic. He killed thousands, time and time again, and stole their Light, making himself more powerful. He attempted to reach apotheosis through sword logic, but I poisoned him. Like me, his husk is destroyed, but his soul dwells... he made himself a throne world." "He can't come back, can he?"[/i] Malikeith asked the Formless Shadow in his head. [i]"Like the god-knight Crota, Naedar needs disciples in the Physical Realm to call forth his soul... He has six of them. The other six Risen that ruled Allt Sjándi with him. They began to worship Naedar as his power grew; they would sacrifice portions of their Light to feed Naedar's need of Light..."[/i] "Look at this, 'Keith!" Luther yelled. The Risen warrior shook his head, then looked to his partner. Luther was staring at writing above a door that led to an armory. "It's more Reschee writing. 'Our powers are indefinite. Our lives infinite. We are the Revenant'." "Who are the Revenant?" Malikeith asked. Quickly, he spun around. Zombie-like warriors were attacking the rest of his team! They drew out large, steel swords and slew them where they stood! Their screams of agony filled Malikeith's head, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. "Malikeith!!" He heard Byron yell as he tried to fight off the warriors shrouded in ancient armor and black cloaks. "Malikeith!!... Malikeith!!" The voice turned to a low drone in his head.