Nightshift 35: South Hall [Basement]

[braidless]

((From here.))The darkness here was thick and oppressive. Even with the beam from his glowrod, it was difficult to get a clear idea of what, exactly, was ahead. For a moment, he reached out with his senses, but he was met with murky clouds of aggression, cold air, and something else he couldn't identify. There was a draft, but that wasn't why

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[braidless]

As soon as Martin Landel had finished with them, they'd been whisked away into the hallway. Although the sense of dread that clung to the air was as strong as ever, Obi-Wan immediately recognized that his powers were once again diminished -- even his robes and lightsaber were missing, replaced with, as if by magic, the bland Institute uniform and the knife "Mr. Radio" had given him.

The Jedi's eyes scanned the area. There was Callisto, who seemed to be on the verge of leaving, and it appeared the boy and Qui-Gon weren't injured anymore. Inwardly sighing with relief, Obi-Wan was glad to not have that burden on his shoulders anymore. But that didn't lessen the crushing weight of what he'd done, and his gaze was inevitably drawn to the body lying on the ground.

He could sense Goku's distress and disbelief at seeing his companion's corpse. If Obi-Wan himself hadn't been the one responsible, he might have given him his distance in order to let him properly grieve. And yet, he'd been the one to strike Sanzo down -- he'd ended a life, and the aftershocks of that were going to be felt for a long, long time to come.

Bruck Chun's sudden death at his hands was a perfect example of that.

It would have been easy to simply say, I tried to find a way, but there were no other options, and find peace that way, but Obi-Wan knew he couldn't do that. He would have to take full responsibility for his failure to save everyone, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding it. There was a lot for him to ponder and think about. Death was not something to treat lightly, under any circumstances.

The Jedi glanced over to Qui-Gon, but turned away, feeling it wasn't quite appropriate to engage in conversation with him, even if he was selfishly relieved to have him close by and alive.

Goku did not have that privilege with Sanzo.

[qui_gonjinn]

Getting to his feet, Qui-Gon's voice was quiet.

"Good-bye, then," he said, terse. There wasn't much else to say. While Qui-Gon had been patient with the others, he wasn't feeling particularly charitable in light of Callisto's actions in the stands only minutes earlier. Sanzo was dead. And she had called for blood, would probably willingly betray them just to get to meet Martin Landel. He was a Jedi but he wasn't a perfect one and never claimed to be - there were limits to his patience, and it had been stretched now.

Qui-Gon took a centering breath, calming himself. He felt completely healed, his lightsaber wound gone, his bad knee good as new. But that was small compared to what he felt: Goku's stunned grief, Obi-Wan's distress, and he also felt Sanzo's absence, his bright Force signature gone. It was like being in a vacuum, especially after feeling how intense it'd been back in the Coliseum, the suns from before extinguished. Glancing at Obi-Wan, knowing they needed to talk, a part of him wanting to go to him first, Qui-Gon instead knelt down next to Goku, laying a hand on his shoulder and not saying anything at first. He gazed down at Sanzo's body, observing his passing and taking the time to silently mourn his taken life. He hadn't known him very well, but that didn't make his death any less significant.

The monk was still dressed in his robes, his face still in the flashlight's beam, eyes closed. He looked asleep. But the ugly burn in his stomach was very real, so fresh he could still smell the burned flesh and the ozone.

[givemeoblivion]

[And Callisto is off to here]