| He decided that he'd indulge Rez and those present in how they knew too little; that their guesswork led them astray. They were soon to die nonetheless, so he'd let them die a bit wiser still.
"Of course you'd ascribe your own fears of death to an unknown entity, trying to make sense of it," he said, adjusting the frayed sleeve around his stump, the ruin to his attire and body mattering naught. "Does it make you feel safer, thinking there is a way to end me? Would you sleep more soundly whilst thinking I will cease to exist when I am forced to discard this host? Would it be more simple for your limited comprehension to think me a mere individual? I am one with my kin. There is no 'I'."
Nicander's disjointed gait took him closer to the forcefield - his face cast in flickering light. In the lack of pretence, his words sliced as deeply as his unblinking stare. "We are the nameless darkness; the great attractor. We are the cut upon your existence, the abyss down which everything shall fall. We can't fear what we cannot experience. Darkness is immortal, where all light will cease to shine, and your reality will be fed to us." He looked upon Rez, simplifying it further for her, since she had made the claim. When he spoke next, his voice emanated from the tear inside. "We cannot fear death, for we do not fear what we are."
Having said this, he bared his teeth at them all - eyes caught ablaze. "The will of-"
An ugly sound tore through his throat, a breath sucked through his clenched teeth. The light in his eyes winked out, and they were wide as he sunk to his knees, clutching his ruined torso. The pain! The collective onslaught of the damage done unto his frame, it set his nervous system ablaze. There was nothing but will that made him cling unto thought - intentions almost lost in the maelstrom. "Hel....!"
Lucan fell on his whole side, clutching himself as if to keep himself together. The parasite had granted him life, sustaining him, but he had to reach out. Only through the imprint of light done by Heather McMillan could he retain his body for his own again, despite the cost. He sucked down another breath, and he would be dead if it was not for the darkness - just below the surface of his mind. The oily presence forced his heart to beat, and he rode the murky tide of eldritch madness, like a boat in a storm, but the pain.... it was as if he had stepped through a door and into a waterfall. He was bludgeoned by the toll his body had taken, and he fought for breath whilst speaking with his own lips.
"Help m-me!" he cried, and choked on every sound he managed to utter - eyes rolling in his skull. "M-Make me w-wh-!"
It was an impossibility, to remain in a lucid state. The pain was all there, unfiltered by the darkness that made him linger. He could not hold on for more than a few seconds. Worst of it was that his pleading words might not reach the onlookers. He had no means to tell them more. There was so much to tell them, and where he lay, shaking upon the deck plates, he tried to look at them. He bit his teeth together, and hissed it out - that which mattered most. "Y-You must... weaponize... the light!"
And then, there was no more strength in him. The shock to his ruined body, when unmitigated by darkness... it shut his eyes.
Only the dormant beast in the unconscious body made him keep breathing - bound to wake eventually again. |