**Chapter 741: Shadows of the Eternal Throne**
**Scene 1: Darth Atroxa's Mindscape – The Valley of the Dark Lords**
Dagon stood within the fractured mindscape of Darth Atroxa, the ancient Lethan Twi'lek Sith Lord. The air reeked of ozone and blood, the red sands of Korriban shifting beneath his boots. Miaria remained at his side in a partial beastified state, claws ready.
The last memory Dagon held from his old Earth knowledge — from the game *Knights of the Old Republic* era — played out in vivid flashes around them.
Forces of the Eternal Empire descended on Korriban: starfighters, shuttles, at least two battleships, and a massive warship. They met fierce resistance from the Sith navy — Mark VI Supremacy-class starfighters and Fury-class Imperial interceptors. Led by Arcann and Thexan, the Force-sensitive Knights of Zakuul and their droids advanced on the Sith Academy on foot.
They clashed in the Valley of the Dark Lords with Darth Atroxa's forces — Sith Warriors, Acolytes, and Overseers. Arcann was grievously wounded. While medics operated on him under guard, Thexan reported to Valkorion. The Emperor showed no concern for his son's injuries, only stating that Arcann had "paid the price for defiance."
The next day, during a raging sandstorm, Arcann — now fitted with a cybernetic arm and a durasteel mask over his burnt face — led the final assault. He disarmed Atroxa with his new arm, then ran her through with his lightsaber.
"That is where my memory of her end," Dagon said aloud, watching the spectral replay fade. "But it wasn't the end."
The mindscape shifted. Hidden memories surfaced.
Valkorion — Tenebrae, Darth Vitiate — had not killed her. He had captured her, much like he had corrupted Revan and Malak. For three years he subjected her to brutal mental conditioning and experiments. Despite her status as a Sith Lord, Atroxa's Force potential had plateaued. She was deemed unworthy of a seat on the Dark Council — merely an over-glorified watcher of Korriban's acolytes.
"Harsh," Dagon muttered, "even for the Sith. She was considered weak."
After three years, Valkorion sealed her away and sent her into storage. The transport ship was attacked during a Jedi resistance operation, shot down, and eventually recovered by the Prophets of the Dark Side. She remained a relic on Dromund Kaas for thousands of years, only awakening three months before Dagon's raid on the Prophets' base.
**Scene 2: The Fractured Psyche**
Atroxa manifested before them — proud, red-skinned, covered in writhing Sith tattoos, dual crimson lightsabers ignited.
"You dare invade my mind, pretender?" she snarled.
Dagon lowered his own blade. "We're here to offer you freedom, Atroxa. Not as a tool for Valkorion, not as a forgotten relic. A real choice."
She laughed bitterly. "Choice? From the Dragon who burns worlds?"
Miaria stepped forward, tail lashing. "He gave me a thousand years to choose. And I chose him. You can do the same."
Atroxa's aggression slowly cracked as they fought and talked across centuries of simulated time. She had always craved approval — even as a Sith. During her training on Korriban, she had looked up to a twisted father figure in her Overseer. Different from the one who had burned Nox, but the pattern remained.
Dagon approached her the same way he had with Aayla — patient, firm, offering structure instead of domination.
**Scene 3: Lekku and Trauma**
In a quieter corner of the mindscape, after a particularly brutal training duel, Atroxa sat with her head bowed. Dagon gently touched one of her sensitive lekku, sending a small pulse of healing energy through it. She shivered, the sensation far more intense for a Lethan Twi'lek.
"Why are you still kind?" she whispered. "Your trauma was worse than mine. I was raped, abused, discarded. You were only shot, stabbed, burned…"
Dagon shook his head. "Physical pain is one thing. As a Sith, you were raised to equate it with strength. My trauma… I had to watch the people I loved turn against me. But I also had anchors — the girls, my purpose. Fifty years of one life and twenty-seven of another gave me perspective. I saw how to find happiness even in a dark galaxy."
Atroxa stared at him for a long time. "You are dangerous, Dragon. Not because of your power… but because you make monsters want to be more."
**Scene 4: The Choice**
After a thousand years within the Mind Prison, Darth Atroxa emerged changed.
She knelt before Dagon in the real world, lightsabers deactivated, tattoos still vivid but no longer pulsing with uncontrolled rage.
"I agree to follow you," she said, voice steady. "Not as a slave. Not as a forgotten relic. As something more."
Dagon offered his hand. "I originally planned to give you the same offer I gave Nox and Ashara — a hidden refuge with their twin daughters. A quiet life away from the war."
Atroxa's golden eyes flashed with something closer to desire than submission. A small, dangerous smile curved her lips. "A quiet life? No. I see the power you wield. The women who stand at your side. I want that fire. I want to be your queen in the coming empire."
Miaria, standing beside Dagon, let out a low, approving purr. "She learns fast."
Dagon helped Atroxa to her feet. "Then welcome to the fold, Atroxa. We have a war to win… and a galaxy to reshape."
The ancient Sith Lord rose, red skin glowing under the Temple lights. For the first time in millennia, she looked forward instead of backward.
As they left the meditation chamber, Dagon felt the weight of another powerful woman added to his growing circle. The Mind Prison had proven itself once again. The girls still needed healing. The war still raged.
But piece by piece, the Dragon was turning broken weapons into loyal blades.
And the galaxy would never be the same.