The cockpit jolts as the ship bites lower into the atmosphere. Below, the temple's lattice shadow sharpens into a scar across the planet, jagged and impossible to ignore.
The Off-Worlder keeps one hand locked on the controls, the other hovering near a course readout. Their face is tight, waiting on Jye-kule without asking twice.
Jye-kule
The shadow is growing with the descent.
The Off-Worlder
Once we drop through the cloudline, it reaches us. If you mean to break it, say it now.
The temple's pull threads through the hull, a low pressure in the bones of the ship. Jye-kule feels the old engine waiting below, patient as a trap.
The Off-Worlder
If you do nothing, it keeps feeding. If you act, we may still have a chance to end it.
The choice is plain now, destroy the dark engine before it wakes fully, or let its influence claim the ruins, and maybe them both.
✓ Quest Accepted
Destroy the temple's Force-harvesting engine
“I focus my mind on the engine, sensing it but refusing to let it into my mind.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled -1)
Jye-kule centers his breathing and lets his senses reach downward. The temple answers at once, a buried engine of hunger, old fear, and locked geometry. He feels it clearly, but its pressure meets a wall in his mind and stops there.
Jye-kule
It is awake enough to notice me.
The cockpit steadies. The ship stops shuddering for one clean heartbeat, as if the planet has lost its grip on the hull.
The Off-Worlder
You have it now. The question is whether you can break it before it reaches for us again.
Below the canopy, the temple’s shadow no longer feels distant. It feels mapped, exposed, like a target marked in Jye-kule’s blood and memory.
The Off-Worlder eases one hand off the controls for a fraction of a second, watching Jye-kule instead of the descent. The ship holds its line, but the answer hangs there, waiting for action.
“I maintain my focus”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +0)
Jye-kule keeps his breathing slow and even. The pressure below him presses, but it does not slip past his guard. He holds the temple at the edge of awareness, steady as a blade held point-down.
Jye-kule
The engine is still there. I am still here.
The ship smooths out further, descending in a clean line. The canopy glow paints both of them in cold light, and the planet below stops feeling like a pull and starts feeling like a shape he can face.
The Off-Worlder
Good. Keep that hold. Do not let it name your fear for you.
Their voice stays low, almost careful. One hand rests on the controls, but their attention is on Jye-kule now, not the falling darkness beyond the glass.
The Off-Worlder
When I first learned this place, I thought endurance was obedience. It took me too long to learn the difference.
The words land with the weight of old hurt, but the cockpit remains calm. The descent continues, controlled and sure, as if the planet itself has been forced to wait.
“"I feel no fear, not even in a place like this. It is my rage that fuels me, strengthens me to face anything that would try to consume me, and dares them all to try." I say with grit teeth and eyes closed tightly in my trance-like meditative pose.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +1)
Jye-kule lets the rage settle into a hard, steady core instead of a flare. The pressure below finds nothing to hook, nothing to bend. The cockpit feels a fraction wider as the temple loses its grip on his breath.
Jye-kule
It is rage that steadies me. Let it try.
The Off-Worlder watches him for a beat, then gives the smallest nod, as if confirming a measurement already taken. The ship keeps its line, no longer shivering at the edge of a break.
The Off-Worlder
Good. That is yours, not its.
The Off-Worlder
He is not bracing. He is anchoring.
Below the canopy, the planet hangs dark and patient, but it no longer feels like a mouth opening wide. It feels distant, contained, waiting for them to arrive on their own terms.
The Off-Worlder
Tell me, free man, do you want the descent to stay this calm?
“"Calm? What would I know of calm. My world has been an ocean of chaos and heart ache since birth. All I've ever known is the harsh bitterness of an uncaring and unjust universe. It matters not what I want, the descent will be what it will be." I answer, still focused on the engine, holding it off, but with a seemingly practised ease now.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +2)
Jye-kule
Calm is not mine. I hold the line, and that is enough.
Jye-kule keeps his focus pinned below the canopy, and the pressure from the temple loses its grip on the ship. The descent smooths out, as if the dark pull has met a wall it cannot cross.
The Off-Worlder
There. He does not merely endure it, he shapes it.
The Off-Worlder
That is control. Not comfort, control.
The cockpit settles into a low, even hum. The Off-Worlder eases one hand off the yoke and studies Jye-kule with quiet approval, their old memory of the temple still hanging behind their eyes.
The Off-Worlder
My teachers called this peace, then used it like a blade. You are not theirs. You are free.
Below them, the planet stays dark and still, waiting. No panic floods the cockpit, only the next patient stretch of descent.
“I stand and walk toward the door. "Let us go, I wish to face this presence head on. I want to look despair in the eye and spit in its face."”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled +0)
Jye-kule rises from the seat, slow and certain, and the cockpit seems to feel the change. The Off-Worlder watches him without reaching, letting the moment belong to him.
Jye-kule
Let us go. I wish to face this presence head on. I want to look despair in the eye and spit in its face.
He crosses the narrow cockpit and takes the hatch control in hand. The ship stays steady, but the temple’s pull presses at the hull like a patient palm.
The Off-Worlder
Then go to it as yourself. Not as property, not as a weapon.
The lock yields. The door parts with a clean hiss, and cold planet air slips into the cabin, carrying a faint taste of stone and old ruin.
The Off-Worlder
They said free man, and they mean it.
Jye-kule stands at the threshold, the dark below meeting his stare. The descent remains smooth, but now the way forward is open.
“"Land there, in the clearing" I point to an area below with smooth ground.”
SUCCESS (Poor Starship Piloting, rolled +0)
Jye-kule points down at the clearing, and the ship answers. The cockpit dips, then commits to the descent, smooth but tight on the edge of strain.
The clearing rises fast in the forward glass. Scrub trees bend in the downdraft, and the temple’s pressure claws at the hull like a hand losing patience.
The Off-Worlder
That spot. Good.
The landing struts kiss stone and dust. A sharp jolt runs through the frame, and one console panel sparks before dying dark.
Outside, the clearing holds. Inside, the ship settles with a low groan, engines ticking hot as the last vibration drains away.
The Off-Worlder
We are down. A rough landing, but down.
The Off-Worlder turns from the dead panel to Jye-kule, the open hatch behind him breathing cold air toward the waiting ruin below.