Menyoo reaches down a second time to grab Mill, helping him to his feet as the mad winds close in behind them. They make their way toward the door, but before they can squeeze through the tight space, Menyoo fumbles and hits the stone frame with his shoulder. He begins to slump down to the cave floor, but Mill reaches down and yanks him up by the armpit before he can. "No you don't!" He pulls him up to his feet and directs him as he stumbles through the exit.

"Come back!" A voice calls out from the turbulent cave, earthy like D.G.s, but more aged and frantic. Menyoo begins to trip again, but catches himself on the tunnel wall. As he presses his hand against the wall of packed sand, the grainy material parts around his fingers, bunching between each digit.

Menyoo says weakly, "The walls are crumbling, he is trying to bury us alive!"

Mill responds with defiant vigor, "He'll have to try a lot harder than that!" He grabs Menyoo's left arm and places it over his neck. Lifting Menyoo up with his shoulder, he climbs the steps leading up and out of the tunnel, helping steer each of Menyoo's frail steps. The wind behind them lashes out with a strong gust against their backs, forcing Menyoo forward onto his knees, and extinguishing the flames lighting the tunnel. The only light sources left to help guide their escape is the Jaguada sun peeking in from far above them, and the faint glow of the large brazier tucked away in the back of D.G.'s discarded tomb, lighting the edge of the first twenty steps.

The demonic voice closes distance from below, "Menyoo! We could do great things! Let go of him, we don't need him. Stay with me! I can sense your potential!" Their steps soften as the sand crumbles around them, gradually filling the tunnel. After struggling up the first ten steps—with Mill's assistance—Menyoo turns his head around to catch a glimpse of what is following them: the raggedy shawl that had fallen onto the coffin lid floats in the center of the mayhem behind them. Unlike before, dark humanoid features hide within the confines of the shawl's hood. The brazier's light is suffocated by the wall of sand that has risen high enough to rebury the tomb entrance, sealing away its contents for another half a millennium, if not longer.

As they continue their desperate climb out of the tunnel, it becomes increasingly difficult to ascend. The sand at their feet becomes thicker by the second, causing Mill to have to lift his feet, and Menyoo, higher with each consecutive step. Cascading sand flies into the pair's faces, obstructing their vision and depositing both in their ears and on the crevice of their lips. Menyoo jerks himself out of Mill's grip and stumbles down a couple steps to face the impending hurricane head on. "Enough!" Menyoo yells. He performs an aggressive force push toward the spiraling winds, directed at the bundle of cloth at its center.

Mill turns around and yells down to him, "Menyoo no!"

Menyoo's force push rushes down the tunnel, grabbing mounds of sand from the collapsing walls and propelling it forward within the funnel of energy. The spiral of sand and energy hits the target directly. The sand clings to the black silhouette of a man, revealing his large, ghostly visage before blasting the figure deep into the dark recesses of the planet. Menyoo's force push strips the walls of their outer layers of sand, widening the tunnel beneath them, and quickening the pace at which the sand pours out of the disentangling walls—like a puncture in an hourglass. Menyoo, revitalized by the removal of D.G., turns and shoves Mill to resume their escape. Mill continues on without hesitation, leading Menyoo out of the dark trench and into the brilliant Jaguada sun.

Within the last five steps a final, smothered howl rises from the submerged abyss, "Menyoo! You will find your way to our side! It is just a matter of ti…" Mill jumps dramatically off of the final step and out of the ditch. Menyoo is close behind, stepping out within seconds of the tunnel's complete enclosure: swallowing D.G. and stifling his final threat. The momentum from Menyoo's exuberant departure leads to him falling to his knees, unprepared for flat ground after all his frantic climbing. He quickly shifts his weight from his palms to his fabric-coated arms once the burn sets in from the harsh heat locked away in the bare, Jaguada sand.

Menyoo remains in a kneeling position. Mill presses his hands against his quads and leans back, placing his head into the air and squinting in response to the sun's intense rays. They do not speak for a full minute as they catch their breath and appreciate their near-fatal escape from the sinking cavern. Between challenged breaths, Menyoo says to Mill, "Call TC, let's get off this damned rock." Mill nods approvingly, then calls for an evac in between shallow pants. Menyoo shifts his body sideways to a sitting position; Mill shuffles over to take a seat beside him.

Mill let's out a fretful puff of air and says to Menyoo, "I suppose you were right, he did come after us like you said he would. I really thought we could trust him."

Menyoo responds while looking down at the hot sand between his knees, "I don't think what happened was his fault. And it certainly wasn't yours. The reason I was having trouble running in the cave was because he was trying to take over my body. Now I know what you felt," Menyoo looks up to deliver an empathetic glance before returning his eyes to the arid soil, "he was confused and afraid, he had no control. I think the ritual set him off. For a couple seconds he got in my head and almost, uh, took me over I guess. It was strange, but in those moments I felt confused, isolated, like I couldn't comprehend what was happening around me. I think it was how he felt. Especially being dead, I couldn't imagine. And the writings said he had gone crazy before dying." A couple seconds pass before he finishes his account, "If I weren't so preoccupied, I may have even attacked you." Again, Menyoo looks up at Mill, adding weight to his final statement.

"I see," Mill says back in a docile tone. "What he said about your fate, about you heading down a dark path. And then again about you finding your way back to them, whoever they are. What do you make of it?"

Menyoo at this point had taken his lightsaber out and is drawing in the sand with the hilt. He answers optimistically, but with detached inflection, "I don't make anything of it. If it truly is fated, then what can I do? I have to believe in our mission, because if we don't, nobody will. So, I'll continue on ahead and work on the things that need to be worked on as we go, to wherever it is we are going. I can't do any better than that." Mill nods with his lips pursed, impressed by the maturity of his answer, but feeling less confident about of D.G.'s warnings than Menyoo appears to be. If Menyoo is shaken, he is not showing it. His answer will have to suffice, and succeeded in making Mill feel a bit more at ease.

Mill breaks the silence once again, "Well, we still didn't get anything out of the ritual. And any chance we had of speaking more with D.G. is now ruined."

Before Mill had finished his statement, Menyoo stood up quickly with newfound enthusiasm. He says excitedly after Mill finishes, "You didn't get to see what happened, did you!?"

Mill looks up at him with a confused expression, still squinting through the sun, "I, uh maybe. What happened?"

"The lightsaber! You were convulsing, and muttering nonsense, it all looked really bad, but then you gripped the lightsaber and kinda leaned forward awkwardly. Then all of the sudden a shockwave blasted out from you and the lightsaber! That's what made D.G. go looney on us, but the lightsaber turned on when the energy was released and, well, see for yourself!"

Mill stands up and faces Menyoo. He pulls out the assassin's lightsaber and twists it around in his hands, "It feels a bit heavier." Menyoo responds with a big smile and slow nod, as if to say through expression: go on. Mill looks back down and turns on the lightsaber. Out of the emitter sprouts a purple blade, with a light-violet center surrounded by a deep, royal purple contour. "Whoa!" Mill backs up in surprise, taking the lightsaber with him. "I have never seen anything like this. Or heard of anything like this. Have you?"

Menyoo laughs and says back, "no I have not. But it has to be a good sign, right? I mean if you bled the lightsaber, then it would be red, but it's not. And it still changed color, which I was told is impossible. I've never seen one that isn't blue or green."

Mill mutters distractedly while studying the blade, "Well, there are yellow ones. But those are rare, and the only other alternative I know of. Hmm, we'll have to check the books and see if they say anything about this. My guess, and maybe this is just me being hopeful, but if you mix blue and red…"

"You get purple." Menyoo says in awe. "well now that we can read Sith, we'll have a lot of reading to catch up on."

Mill switches the blade off, "That we will."

Their ship comes bumbling from the direction of the decrepit castle, several hundreds of meters in the air. Menyoo spots it first, but doesn't say anything, shading his eyes so he can watch the approach of the small, black dot that is their ship. Mill turns, but doesn't see what Menyoo is looking up at until he eventually hears it first, groaning through the air as it struggles to land without falling apart.

Menyoo begins waving his arms into the air, but Mill slaps the back of his hand against Menyoo's chest and says astutely, "Before we board, I wanted to say one other thing. You should have killed me. I am glad you didn't, and appreciate that you trust me, but I gave an order. You said it yourself, I was convulsing, then my actions sent D.G. into a rampage. It should have never gone that far."

Menyoo looks Mill in the eyes and says in an assertive tone, "How could I? You put so much trust in me, how could I not give you the same benefit?" Menyoo then proceeds to smile and pat Mill on the shoulder before walking off in the direction of the ship, shouting into the air with glee and waving his hands in the air toward TC in his small semi-spherical cockpit. Mill lavishes a smile before turning and following in Menyoo's stead, gesticulating extravagantly alongside Menyoo to get TC's attention. TC-26 had already spotted them—long before they spotted him—and begins lowering the ship close to their position. The ship stops a meter off the ground to a shaky hover, allowing for Mill and Menyoo to jump aboard once TC gets the door open.

Once they are on board and stable, TC-26 asks, "Is there trouble?"

Mill answers, "No, there was but we're fine now. Although I would be a bit more comfortable if you pulled away from this spot. Then we can figure out our next move."

Menyoo shouts while pointing a finger at the ceiling, "I second that!" TC does as he is asked, cruising the ship several kilometers away before stopping again. In that time, Mill and Menyoo put their stuff away and discuss their next step.

Menyoo asks while changing out of his sweaty robes, "What do you think we should do? D.G. wants us to fight for honor and love. Not very specific instructions. I really hate his riddles."

Mill laughs aloud to himself before answering, "I don't think that one was a riddle. I think he is just giving us a lot of room to work with. The important thing is we find a place to fight, preferably far away so we can study on the way. Then when we get there, we work on using our emotions to our advantage in the fight. Like the Sith did and the Jedi disparage, but we do it better, fighting for, as you put it, love and honor."

"Maybe Sbeit should have stuck around, he knows how to pick a fight. Do you have a place in mind?"

"Yeah, I think I do. There was something my master had always wanted to do, but the Jedi wouldn't let him. While he was growing up, his family were in a bad situation, and it's unlikely they got themselves out of it. His dream was to return one day and save them. The council never allowed it, nor did they do anything on their own for the oppressed people. He died before he could. But we can." A tear runs down the cheek opposite of Menyoo, as Mill thinks to himself: Master, I hope I make you proud.