A Lonely Meditation

[Colton Hunter]

Colt felt the first volley, flames erupting from a nearby console as he worked rapidly on the console before him. He was silent for a moment, as he realized that the tractor beam wasn't damaged, but was rendered offline, he quickly reactivated, then moved for the docking clamps. There was only two vessels, at the moment, his Skipray Blastboat, docked neatly to the derelict freighter. Fortunately it was of Sith design, which meant it's makeup was stolen from the Mandalorians. The freighter would be hearty... unfortunately, that also meant that the Sith's weapons were as well, and the impacts were noticed.

"Sure, if this plan fails," he said, glancing back at the alarms. The Hyperdrive was beginning to overload. "I have no intention of getting anywhere near Ziost, we need to get across to the Imperial side, it's time to move over to the Skipray," he told her as a small droid waddled into the cockpit. It was an RX model, a pilot droid. Colt entered in the coordinates he needed the droid to go on, then sighed.

"Alright buddy, I need you to use the tractor beam to push that Skipray away as far and fast as you can, alright?" he asked, "And then just follow the instructions," he offered, his eyes moving to the view screen... there was a large ship dead ahead, perfect. He would deactivate his boots, drifting in the Zero-G for a moment, before he did as Adara had, propelling himself back to the Blastboat.

"Get to the cockpit, Darius is going to need a co-pilot," Colt added, quickly moving to the center of the fighter, to sit, cross legged. The meditation pose. He hit his com once Adara was on board. "Punch it, Arex," he said.

The Sith were known to be harbingers of chaos and disorder. Once the ship was sealed, Darius undocked, the ship trembling under the onslaught.

"There goes our weapons, no fighting back..." came Darius's report.

"Won't need to, this is evade for a bit..." Colt allowed as the tractor beam suddenly slammed into them. Two fighters closed in- and the Skipray was shoved suddenly, through them avoiding the assault that would have come, and the freighter, currently pointed right at the large Sith vessel before it... suddenly jumped into Hyperspace, intent on leaving a wake of destruction behind it. The strain was a bit too much, however, as the Hyperdrive overloaded, and detonated rather violently.

Shockwaves lashed out across the void, slamming into everything, though the smaller ships would be taking the worst of it, if the larger ship hadn't gotten out of the way, it would have exploded half way in the middle of the vessel. The blast slammed into the Skipray, sending it careening, one engine screaming in protest... as Colt delved deeper into his meditation. The ship slowly shimmering... and then vanishing. For all intents and purposes, the Skipray would have winked out of existence. It'd show up on no scanner, and the occupants hidden from the Force itself. (Mediation of Immersion).

Inside, however, Colt was hurting. The shockwaves had sent him prone, but he was still focused, fighting to ignore the reopening of a wound beneath his armor, where a lightsaber had recently pierced. He wouldn't be able to hold the meditation for long... but Darius knew his role here. He was already transmitting, trying to get the ship to head away from Sith space, calling for some support. He just needed to hold on long enough to give them some distance...

[Slade Xandir]

Blood watched the destruction with a satisfied snarkish grin, canines puncturing the bottom tops of his lip as it spread to match it's disturbed owner, but all at once he was glad too soon, apparently. The Skipray seemed to take on the appearance of a ship that made it's successful throw through hyperspace, and his infernal wrath boiled over the of his glee.

Even Lidmor seemed stunned at the hyperjump, the Admiral blinking and taking a step forward. "That...that's impossible- no one can hyperjump out of a gravity well, let alone a planetary orbi-"

"Full speed ahead. I want this Naga racing directly where that crash centerfolded, and I want this ship to court the shattered pieces."

Lidmor did a double take, and his aged voice threw out a baffled "My Lord, if the engines aren't reversed in time within that route, we could end up being pulled into Ziost's atmosphere! Even moreso, we would be absent of backup-"

Blood held a finger up to his lips, the universal gesture of 'shhh'.

"I'm assuming you've never played 'Chicken' before, Admiral. Plus, death isn't the worst thing that could happen. Relax."

Of course it was impossible for the ship to have gone into hyperdrive within the gravity well. The Freighter itself was evidence of that. But despite it, Blood was all too familiar with this snake's trade.
Seems he wasn't the only one with a knack for illusion.

"Nose-dive through that mess, and have the majority of other ships do the same. We will have him, soon enough, whether it's through sight of him revealing himself, or whether it's through him and his little sweetheart being splattered across our ships like smashed vermin."

Though Blood spoke specifically to Lidmor, his transmitter broadcasted it out to his Pack as they had joined. They would constrict the ring of barricade they formed around the caught thieves, and squeeze until there was no other choice. The undersides and tops of the barricade were lined with additional ships, and would provide the obstacle course that would alert the faction to any passed movement. There was hereby no retreat-
only termination.

"Silver, Crow, make it happen."

Blood then turned to Rahab, who had been watching the debacle from her spot. His golden irises softened to a slight degree, almost imperceptible in appearance, but in the Force the tauntness relaxed a smidge as he took in her always-unreadable form. The modest maiden had come to watch and learn instead of join the array of onslaught, and despite him foreseeing her as a mage amongst their ranks, he hoped this affair would provide her knowledge in anything dealing with warfare. Atleast enough for her to store it away as the blooming guardian of their trade and history under his rule.

"What be your opinion on this approach, Rahab? What do you see in this?" he asked as he muted his mic piece.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

His hand settled upon the throttle of the Meditation Sphere as it finished powering up the systems and the green lights shone brightly their indication of a vessel prepared for action. He eyed the distant freighter, he could feel their joyous light and he disgusted in it. Such foolhardy emotions, they were weakness and lacked conviction to do what was necessary. He would show them just how pithy they really were.

Shoving the throttle forward the Sphere lurched forth. Now that the systems were operational the Sphere was now automatically transmitting its position to the freshly arrived Sith Warships so that they would not see a foe but rather a friendly ship - an individual friend or foe tag. Nothing needed to be verbally spoken, it was pointless and without cause. But the Dark One suffered not ignorance and so he gazed upon the vessels of the Sith Fleet, to the Naga Dreadnaught and he forced his will to engulf the command bridge of that vessel. There he found a familiar presence and he knew at once that it was Blood.

Something was different in Blood though - arrogance, circumstance, pride, purpose - ah, it seemed the pup had grown into a man and he was lording over his subjects in Tormentous’ stead. Underneath the mask he wore, Tormentous nearly smiled as he relished the thought of casting Blood’s pride and joy down as he seized back his throne. Though part of him thought it to be unworthy, the notion of a spitting match over a throne of iron and steel. So what if he’d earned the right to rule, or if the throne sat atop a mountain of skulls belonging countless foes that he’d slain or the greatest champions he bore - that Blood had stepped up into the position of the Infernal Lord meant he continued a legacy. Tormentous hadn’t died, he’d lived on through Blood.

His brief smile faded, this was something they’d deal with later when less pressing matters were needing attention. Turning back to his viewscreen he witnessed the energy levels on the derelict freighter powering up. Surely that hunk of junk couldn’t possibly be serviceable to launch into hyperspace! Then again, Tormentous’ whipping boy, Colton, was quite the gear head - annoyingly. Questioning further would only serve to delay the situation.

As the Sphere shot inwards to the two vessels, Tormentous began looking for an airlock. Though he'd not make it in time as the freighter attempted to make a jump and was torn apart in the process. Slag and debris scattered everywhere. It was a display of utter chaos in action. A field of carnage of which sensors would struggle to penetrate.

The Naga leapt forward, ploughing through the debris letting the wreckage smash harmlessly against her armoured prow. Soon Blood would find his prey. Another moment of approval, Tormentous knew Blood to be the master of the hunt - yes, soon all would be revealed.

This was a ruse, Tormentous agreed. And so he set his Sphere adrift, hands off the controls, and he closed his eyes to begin searching through the void and beyond.

Colton could not hide. There was no escape, and he wasn’t about to let them just walk away from this unscathed.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Rahab Aapofi was Lord Blood’s student. However, he had not been her first teacher in the ways of the Sith. When she had been inducted into the Order, Dastan Imatari had been her first Master and saw to her teachings, but he had vanished. Before he had disappeared into the vast unknowns of space, the missing Sith Lord had sent her away to train under the Lord Blood and she had been in his sole tutelage ever since. At the time, it had hurt her, something terribly, but she hadn’t given it much thought in a while. She had brushed it from her mind, filling the space that was left behind with Lord Blood's training. Lord Blood ruled them. And Sith magic or not, Rahab’s sick mind valued authority. And her Master ruled, in the absents of the other Lords, he who stood alone; a last remaining pillar of might shouldering the weight of an entire people. It was Rahab’s firm believe that, without him, the Sith would collapse. This mission, his mission, was jeopardizing that believe. This all was making her feel rather unwell. What they, some of the core members of Lord Blood's 'pack,' were doing today was forcing her to revisit those feelings and it was putting her in a strange mood. It was not uncommon for her, as she often had moods that she didn’t understand, in great frequencies, but this feeling had persisted and increased. It clung to her uncomfortably; cold and wet.

And while, it was an honor to be inside a machine as gorgeous the Naga Dreadnaught, being aboard made her feel a bit useless. Kressara, who Rahab saw as a peer and was fond of as they got on well, and Raphael, who was Lord Blood's son, were on their own out there. She didn't relish combat. Rahab had a gentle soul and an even temperament, no matter what she thought of herself otherwise. But she loathed doing purposeless things and liked having her own way. She didn't see what her being idle on the Naga was achieving. But, at the same time, she didn't mind being in his pocket like so; being onboard and near him, just observing. This was the influence he had on her. The Lord sought for her to take a different path than the one Kressara was on. And a different path meant different lessons.

Rahab had been rubbing a stray strand of thread from a frayed edge of her sleeve between her fingers when Lord Blood addressed her. The flurry of fire upon the intruders had left her shaken. She looked up, in a way like she had been reluctant to leave behind whatever thought she was lost in. Her brow knotted, she gave Lord Blood a far-away look.

"My opinion?" She echoed, more to herself than to him. He had swiftly re-captured her attention. Rahab smiled in his direction before unfolding her legs from beneath her, standing shakily up.

“It is my opinion,” She started, giving herself some time to think it over as she started to cross the floor to where he was standing. Rahab doubted he wanted her honest opinion; which would have been to just let the enemy flee and a single warning shot would have likely sufficed, but rather than risk offending him and feeling quiet starry eyed over the notice he took of her she came up with something agreeable to say.

“That the Naga would make a fine coffin, but I doubt that we,” She gave a passing glance to Lord Blood’s Admiral. When she said ‘we’ she meant herself and her Lord, “should be so lucky to leave our mortal coils in her fiery embrace”

As the mighty craft made its, brash, move, Rahab gripped on to the Lord's arm that was nearest to her as casually as she could, but she could feel herself trembling. Being aboard as passenger was an entirely different experience compared to piloting a craft for combat, where things could be moved to her accord, and she didn’t care for this one bit.

[Raphael Xandir]

On one of their final runs, Raphael noticed something strange about the derelict freighter. It seemed to be gaining power even after their attacks. Could they be attempting a daring escape? Raphael brought his squadron around to a safe distance to monitor the activity, hoping the crow would do the same. Surely enough, whoever was on those ships, were smart enough to realize they could not simply hyperjump out of this situation.

A shockwave ensued, sending debris of the freighter flying in the immediate area. The squadron pulled back even farther to hopefully miss most of the scattered pieces of the ship. His attention was caught as he saw a spherical ship out of the corner of his eyes slowly approaching. Who else could possibly be joining this madness?

Before his thought process could continue, the pair was given directive to surround the remaining vessel inside the debris field. Raphael reacted cautiously to the directive given his fathers continued shocking decisions. The squadron held firm at the distance, but created a circle around them. If Kressara did the same, the attacking ships would create a large ring around the debris field.

His decision to keep a safe distance was affirmed by the dreadnaught turning to face them. The capitol ship along with the rest of it s fleet started moving in a direct line towards them.

Plowing through the debris, Raphael was baffled as he watched his father guide the ship directly at them. “Crow. Push your Squadron back! They are going to splatter us along with whomever else they are searching for!” he said over a transmission.

With that the ring became a larger one so that they may dodge the incoming fleet if needed. Raphael began cursing his fathers name as it seemed he had no care in the world for anything else but destroying whomever was inside the enemy ship. This mission was already pure madness.

[Adara Silver]

[OOC: oops! thought it was my turn, it is actually Kressara's! My bad. Ignore this post.]

[Kressara Thryn]

Kressara stood her ground with her squadron as planned for the duration of the battle, her inexperience with warfare in open space leaving her with plenty of room to doubt her decisions. To swoop in there too soon would surely result in the demise of both her and the fighters that followed her command, a thought which was proven all too correct when the enemy ship blasted forth a ring of debris between themselves and the sith forces. Kressara stalled in her thoughts, having her squadron weave and dodge with her through any floating death traps that might have reached their circular path around the enemy. Gritting her teeth the girl hissed out a stressful breath and narrowly escaped the debris field with her flanking fighters still intact.

Blood seemed hard set on pursuing the enemy even through the ring of dangerous obstacles, an easy choice to make when he himself was safely tucked away within a flying fortress of a ship. Her heart dropped and a sick feeling clenched the muscles of her abdomen. He didn’t expect to dive headfirst into that madness did he? His commands were thickly laced with a beast like desire to hunt down an enemy that Kressara simply felt no such animosity towards. Obediently she and her squadron nosedived into the debris field once more, though It was Raphael’s transmission that made more sense to the crow who responded immediately.

“As you wish!” She answered before flipping to a public channel and ordering her squadron to fall back just in time to avoid being jeopardized by the chaos of the Naga’s maneuver and the entry of an unknown ship. Kressara played the part of a ruthless killer when it was expected of her, but deep down the lives following her meant more than they probably should have to the young sith. They wouldn’t be killed because she made the wrong decision, not today at least.

“Fallback, commander! It’s far too dangerous to follow the Naga.”

An affirmative response answered as her men fell away from the massive ship and moved beyond the reach of it’s warpath.

Crow tapped onto a private transmission towards Raphael, hoping to speak some reason into their situation. “Your father may be prepared to sacrifice any one of us for this prize of his...are you?”

[Adara Silver]

Now safely inside the cockpit beside Darius, Adara took a moment to reacquaint herself with the controls. Every ship was different, after all, and Colt had obtained this one sometime after the mess with Krynn and Tormentous. "Hello, Darius," she said. "You, um... Thanks for the rescue," she nodded at him, her helmet would keep him from seeing her face clearly, but maybe he'd still see the smile while he worked on his own controls.

She'd seen Colt do this before-- this strange meditation where everything seemed to be silent, even the Force itself. Of course, within the effect, it wasn't nearly as frightening as when it had been used to make her think everything and everyone was gone...

She didn't see the damage that he'd taken earlier, so instead began to work on keeping the ship from tumbling further, stabilizing it. "I hope the engine hasn't taken too much damage," she said to Darius, looking at the readouts as she fought to maintain control of the ship, letting the Force help guide her movements, and thus the movements of the Blastboat itself, keeping it straight and headed away from the planet even as Colt's meditation kept them from being detected. "I can't fix things like he can."

A few more minutes... Adara closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the Force. It wasn't completely silent, just muted... different somehow... "Do you know what his plan is?" she asked Darius absently, but her mind was reaching for Colt's in the Force. She reached out to him, her movements in the Force well-practiced and familiar, though perhaps a little rusty. A melding of powers, ad and buir together could do more than either apart. (Force meld)

A not-hand reached out to him. It was an offer, at least-- if he needed her power to help him keep this up, she could help him.

[Colton Hunter]

Darius smiled crookedly at Adara, bowing his head just a bit with a wink.

"Hello gorgeous," he said simply, then paused, his smile faltered, then failed, as he looked out the viewscreen. With the Naga following the direction of their tractor assisted shove, bursting through the debris, and the ring tight around them, there wasn't much places to go. That didn't stop him from pulling the ship a bit to the side, then he eased up on the throttle a bit. It was a risky maneuver, being this close to a pair of fighters, but sooner or later, they'd have to move, or they'd wind up on the nose of that larger ship. The Skipray, still masked by the Force drifted as the circle widened, it followed the ring, further and further it'd go.

"My task is to simply reach these coordinates," Darius said at long last as he maneuvered the ship, slowly... painfully slowly. Colt remained seated, sweat beading his brow, warmth flooding over his chest as blood began to pool inside his armor... he'd worry about healing himself once they got to a safer distance. While Darius danced with the ships that couldn't see him, he took note of a gap that was gradually forming. Widen the circle, and sooner or later, the gaps would form. As soon as he saw it, he swooped through it, making his way for the target coordinates.

Colt grunted, feeling the Dark Side trying to pry through his ruse, felt it grasp at him and the ship wavered into existence, beyond the ring for a moment, full throttle again, heading for the border of Sith space as fast as the large fighter could carry itself. Moving port to starboard, taking evasive action as it fled. Then Colt felt it, that surge of light, and it cast out the dark from his mind. Colt sighed, and delved into the meditation, deeper with his bond to his former apprentice (Force Meld[/I]).

The ship began to waver again as it neared it's finish line. The information they had been sending, began to send again on repeat. The coordinates to a location very close to the Blastboat's last known location, as it faded away once more.

[Slade Xandir]

Blood knew it was only a matter of time before he tasted the destruction of another ship. The Energy release from the prior one had provided such a euphoric release for him that he yearned for. The energy dispersed in it's various direction, drifting through the vacuum which Blood now barged through. Each little freckle of it that he tasted, he wanted more. He wanted to pour salt into that fresh wound, fester it, and reap the delicacy of pain that it brought. His mind drifted into those places, running and frolicking between the different places steel could puncture of the bodies inside as they were crushed. What if they were soldered from within, infernos alighting their frames as they writhed and screamed until they all died in each others arms? Whoever was aboard this ship would feel suffering, and they would be unable to cope. They wouldn't make it out of this, and the additional exhale of energy from them would feel the engulf of the Dark Side. Pain, anguish, loss, all of it would feed him, and the Dark Side would grow. It would give him every single bit of power he needed to ensure his reign over the Sith was unending, and the universe would know his name. Galaxies would tremble at near mention of him, as they too would know not even the legendary Force could save them from the barbaric hunger of a scorned Sith Lord.

It was then that Blood felt a wave of Dark Side touch, and immediately his mind was filled with a scent he hadn't be able to taste nor feel for what seemed like eons. It was that familiar hand, a hand that everyone had believed to have forsaken them. The very same hand that guided him through the messed up turmoil of what he battled through, the pain of harboring two personas. The hand that pushed him to fill in a spot he wasn't even remotely ready for. To direct his passions into continuing the legacy which hadn't belonged to him.

Tormentous.

So many feelings crashed through Blood as he felt that scathing pressure of power. One evoked was the immediate desire to relinquish his power to one so mighty, so rightful for this fight. Blood shouldn't have been leading this turmoil of onslaught- it wasn't his place. The submission had broken root and traveled through his head, smarting different spectrums of himself in stinging snakish rips. From them bred the depression and worry, the anxiety of him not being good enough. The lack of confidence swore to drive him to near kneel right there.

From the dark crevice of this shattering man, indignation and a storm of fury came cascading from within. The core broke free of this nettle of rash inducing inebriated coma, and his accomplishments shone with a brilliant light of self-worth. Blood had accomplished much, bringing in more members than he had known under the training by Tormentous. They served *him*, and surely they accounted for a mark on his belt. A badge of some kind. They were worth something as well, as with the bonds they forged, it took energy to make, and the immense success he would have if they worked to make something of it. Even more worthy if they felt that destruction of their bonds, and put their wrath to the Sith's every-churning engine of purpose in havoc.

His stature rose as he successfully made it through the influence of his Sire's power, but as he rose, it was not in submission; it was as someone who knew what they had to do. He had already concocted a plan for this, but he would need more time to plan this out, strategically. That time was not now. There were mongrels to be smashed.
So that was what he directed himself to.

However, Rahab's voice pulled him away from the fortune before him, Naga smattering through the debris with growing loom to the planet. A ding-ding centered in his earway as Lidmor had informed them of the vessel he was sure everyone knew was joining their terrible slaughter. But the voices, the ding-ding-pings faded into the Void as Blood focused on her.

He watched as the petite and frail girl stood, and curiously he sniffed her out in the Force, feeling every corner and pit she held, every reservoir within her, as he tested her own validity. He pressed his mind against hers as he felt her out her words, and exactly how dear they were to her. How close she tossed them out, verses how far she threw them. And almost like a cheated man, he felt her skim away from that path she near took as far as her speech. So close,...but only close.

"Your gentle temperament will soon find home in ruins, Rahab. It is not mercy who saves lives, but force which prevents them from being taken. We will not be taken today. I forbid it. Even if against odds that overweighed our own, I will find a way to survive. Cast aside this soft heart of yours, he spoke in more silken baritones than the first half of his response. He neared her physically, this time, and placed a clawed gauntlet's digit against the very softest portion of her necks nape, before dragging it down with a near lover's touch to the specific place where the thumping of her life's piston pounded away in her chest. Even more gentler, his deep voice ran a sweet tone across her ears.

"Or I will personally be the one to break it, for you."

From a second which felt more stretched than the trillions of years it took to craft all that exited, he savored that stare he held with her. Gold gleamed against the meet of those platinum irises of hers, something that could have been close, intimate, passionate, but was so far from it. And after that second had passed, the Sith Lord ripped himself away from the robed student as he returned to watch all that befell before him. Tormentous was joining them in their massacre of these peasants, and as a now growing usual, Raphael was giving orders adverse to his own. This boy was lacking the vision that drove his Father to gather what he had managed to own this far. Mastery came with sacrifice, and if the Silver was unwilling to prove himself capable of understanding this sight, then his use was waning to the Sith Lord. Blood was unwilling to let anything pull him from this victory, not even his own spawn. Especially one who was attempting to gather his own command. The Dragon King gave him leash, but not the ability to run free. And it would be from that leash, that this impudent child of his would be hung.

But this too, would come in time.

Lidmor came to address Blood once more, the wiser fleet-overwatchman standing by the Sith Lord's side as he brought up the more obvious sector of this entire exchange. "My lord, with Tormentous by our side, we are near unstoppable. From the range we close from, loopholes are near nonexistent. Adversaries will be crushed within minutes of time."

Blood pulled his hands back from behind his back, the sharp clicking of draconic scale and bone promising easy slices to flesh of all kinds that would touch him from outside. "I'll take it as it comes, Lidmor. Whether it be us demolishing them from impact, or forcing them to land to avoid ending up as squashed meat, I could care less. Either way, they will perish. And I will revel every second of their screams."

Blood and his pack neared the vicinity with alarming rate, the break in the ships even more tightly compacted as the Meditation Sphere plugged additional space. Each ship bashed into various specks of floating excess, and soon the ring closed tighter, an anaconda of Sith enforcement.

From the space they held, Blood himself decided much could be done about the situation. The distance they closed, and with the deep level of Dark Energy Tormentous radiated, Blood allowed himself to throw his focus into more sinister acts of Force use. From witnessing the extreme negativity Tormentous had wrought on him, Blood used such emotions to fuel his own powers. And from it, he expanded the combined feel between he and his Sire. Within himself came the surge of energy which responded to him unleashing it from it's controlled cage, and through him, it rushed. Toxic and succulent, the evil wishings paired with his desires, the malevolent and carnal wishes to be rid of Colton, of Adara and her resistance, of whoever they lay bedded with in their obscure belief of 'redemption'. The fire within him rose, inky black tendrils racing across from his fingers tips within his gloves up his arm's flesh. He was fully inhaling and exhaling extreme pressurized levels between consciousness as he swelled within the embrace of the Dark Side's grasp. Tormentous own aura, coupled with his, and they were unstoppable.

As if time flew forward with the motion, Blood released all of the energy he had pent within himself, and if space hadn't have been already etched in darkness, the light from the stars would have even seemed to flicker and dim. Blood could almost hear the debris rumbling and crashing against each other, air particles within the ship itself becoming more frictioned as his extreme level of push reach through the field they were pursuing through. Space, vacuumed as it was, of course allowed no atmosphere for thunder to echo as his Waves of Darkness flew through the space between them, yet Blood could nearly feel the rumbles themselves within him. Another contraction of hateful energy ran rampant as he recalled his unfair treatment upon Jakelia, his opponent crossing him from gentlemanly and tolerant to a crazed dog bent on bringing the pitiful excuse of his humanity back. That contraction rang stronger than the first, and with another gritted exhale, Blood released that wave of vengeance and cursed blessings. The wicked force shot from him, running through the space's expanse and within the pressure of his scorned heart, Blood knew his waves were filled with venomous loathe and depression. Woeful whispers, and suicidal cravings. The torment of a million and one Tormentous'. Paired with the man of Dismay, the Dark One, himself, Blood knew that noxious power was capable of felling gods, so Colton would have nothing against such might. The vicious agony that Tormentous had battered into Blood, the anguish Blood went through as he even braced himself for another wave, it was added to other emotions which fed newborns to beasts. Another pulse, and the terrifying blast flew from Blood, it's crackling energy strong enough to sizzle the minute particulates that were carried through and past them. It was unnerving and sadistic, creepy and fantastically fanatical. Terrible and savage, it rammed through everything, tearing through inorganic material and seeking organic as a starved abomination seeking purchase.

"Feel real despair..." Blood snarled through gritted teeth, his nares flared and fangs bared. Anyone who felt even a whisper of this tremendous energy would fall to basic tears and woe. Anyone taking this full on would be distraught in the most horrifically terrible of ways.
And Blood wouldn't stop until he got it.