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Serratus nodded.
"Very good."
He snapped back his vizor with a smile and produced what looked like a fire blade. However, when activated, it burned a furious white.
"An experimental crossbreed between a fire blade and a lightsaber, with hydrogen as a fuel. I'm sure that I'll pass out once I'm done, if you could lift me into the bac'ata, I would be much obliged."
Before Crozeus could respond, Serratus put the blade to his armoured skin, searing it straight off. The pain was so intense that no scream could capture it, instead Serratus's eyes burned yellower than they had ever burned before. If he had drawn into the well of sheer dark side power produced by that pure, refined pain, few in the galaxy would have been much of a challenge. But this was not a thought that permeated the High Mage's brain as he finished removing the armour on his arm and hand. He continued on to his shoulder, his neck, being careful not to cut too deep in case he punctured his throat, severed his vocal chords or sliced his spine in half, across to his otther shoulder, down his other arm and to his lightsaber hand.
In the moments immediate after the removal of his skin, there had been no feeling at all, but now a dangerous throbbing that threatened to overload his heart. As he moved down across his chest, he hovered momentarily above his heart, testing his limits. Even with the heat this close to his heart, it wasn't giving out. He continued on and within minutes, his chest, stomach, hips, ribs and back were all devoid of the black armour and replaced with black, molten muscle.
He moved down along his pelvis, completely searing the armour away, being cautious not to damage his reproductive organs, as the pain sensors there were so acute his heart might literally explode. He carried on down each leg and by now his whole body pulsed with pain and agony. He burned off the soles of his feet and cut away the bits of molten armour between his toes.
Finally, he stood up straight once more. He was surprised to find he was only delirious, not unconscious. A thousand Anthraxes, Knots and Malefors were surrounding him, laughing at his foolishness. He brought the blade up to his face and began to burn away the helmet. This was the most dangerous part. Due to the lack of sensors in the brain, if he burned through any of it, he would be completely unaware. Maybe he should have had Crozeus do it after all. The blade travelled slowly across his skullcap, down along his back, incinerating the hair of the helmet. He dragged it along his left cheek, then his right, as if shaving rather than performing a dangerous, life-threatening procedure. He finished off his face and stopped with a deranged smile. Apart from the middle of his face, which had not been seared on to his vizor, his entire body was singed black. With a deranged giggle, he collapsed to the floor, the fire blade flying across the shiny durasteel, landing beside a wall, the metal of which started to melt. At last unconsciousness took over and Serratus's eyes closed, sealing his mind in darkness.
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.
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