𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 ; 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘴

❝ The desert bows to no throne, yet it kneels to the weight of truth. I am the storm that carves its verdicts into flesh and dune alike - justice bleeds scarlet, and I am its shadow.❞
- Lady of the Scarlet Verdict
―――――

The Order speaks in trembling breaths of her: a phantom who wears a thousand faces, whose fingers pluck at the threads of destiny as if the galaxy were her loom. They say she walks where the Clone Wars' firestorms rage loudest-a woman crowned in the ember-glow of judgment, eyes like gilded pyres that strip empires to bone. Watch for the Lady of the Scarlet Verdict, they whisper, for she tips the scales not with mercy, but with the desert's hunger-endless, unyielding, sharp as a vibroblade between the ribs.

Yet in this chaos of clashing armies and dying stars, even fate is a fugitive. The Jedi seek her for her power; the Sith, for the secrets coiled in her shadow. But she is no pawn. When the winds scream across Korriban's tombs or the sands of Geonosis drown the fallen, you might glimpse her-a flicker of crimson silk, a laugh like fractured kyber. They warn she could unravel the Republic or the Separatists with a flick of her wrist... if the whim takes her.

Beware her gaze, they say. It sears. It knows. And in this war, where trust is ash and every ally a blade yet unsheathed, the only truth fiercer than her wrath is this: no one escapes the storm she carries in her wake. Not even the stars.