"Lord Morbi÷us, so profoud...." Came a voice from the shadows, it was deep, but smooth, no hitches, and chilling to a strange degree.
"...Well, you've come so far since I last saw you Morbi÷us, how long has it been?" Questioned the hooded man that stepped out of seemingly nowhere, behind the sitting Dark Lord.
The man gazed aroud at the pictures and the sculptures, smiling with a eerie smile, the smile held a vast array of untold messages in itself. "Hm?...I don't see myself here. Did you forget? No, of course not, I'm not known as a Sith within history, even in more secret and hidden archives I am not mentioned...oh well; besides, some of these sculptures aren't even right...Darth Bane was bald, for instance....."
The figure stopped talking for a moment, his smile shrinking slightly. "....Well it seems you're trying to do something....and you know I'm...different, than others....so, let's say I'll help you....though, I set my own standards, what would you have me do? If you wish for me to help, that is?
"But in you...I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will..."
"You are beautiful to me, exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."
"But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force..."
"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you...You are more precious than you know..."-now...it's verbatim!-A quote from Darth Traya (Kreia)