LIGHT IN THE TUNNEL.

The corridors stretched out before them like the endless maw of a ravenous beast, cold and lifeless, enveloping them in a shroud of foreboding. 

The Psion moved with haste, occasionally casting nervous glances over its shoulder, bright yellow slitted pupils dilating in fear each time it dared to meet his intense, green-eyed glare. Each look quite brief, and crumbling the creature's resolve which proved no match for the weight of his unwavering stare.

Each time it dared to look, it was forced to turn its gaze back to the path ahead with renewed fervor. The atmosphere quite thick with tension as his silent fury proved to be palpable, heavy, presence that harshly press down on them both.

Their every step echoed through the dimly lit passage. 

Shadows clinging to the walls, and the air feeling as if it were saturated with something dreadful.

The narrow hallway suddenly opened up into a cavernous chamber, the walls lined with intricate machinery that hummed with a soft, rhythmic pulse. At the far end, a large hatch stood quite imposing and appearing to be immovable.

 The Psion paused, its slit eyes narrowing as it raised a hand and with one fluid motion, it gestured towards the hatch whereupon the heavy metal doors began to part with a low, grinding groan.

A blinding light immediately spilled into the chamber, harsh and unforgiving, illuminating the sterile white lab within. 

The stark contrast between the dim, foreboding hallway and the glaringly bright room was jarring, almost painful to behold. The man squinted, shielding his eyes for a moment before they adjusted to the sudden change in lighting.

The lab was immaculate, every surface gleaming with a pristine cleanliness that bordered on the unnatural. The air was thick with the familiar scent of antiseptic, sharp and acrid, mingling with the faint undertone of something far more unsettling – the faint, metallic tang of blood the mere whiff of which sent his own boiling within his veins. 

The reptilian creature seemed to sense this as it gave him a wide berth, moving towards the centre of the room where there stood two large pods, their glass surfaces slick with a thick, green slime that bubbled and churned within.

Suspended in the viscous liquid were two small figures, their bodies limp and unresponsive, yet unmistakably alive. 

He froze in place and stared, taking in their delicate features which were distorted by the greenish hue of the slime that held them in its suffocating grip. The sight of them, so vulnerable and helpless, sent a pang of anguish through the man's heart.

This was his error, his failure. His shame.

Taking a step forward, eyes fixed on the pods, their contents stirring a maelstrom of emotions within him. He let out a breath.

It flowed from his lips in ragged gasps. 

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, slightly drawing blood as he struggled to maintain his composure.

A bright and brilliant, pulsating green took hold of his eyes casting an eerie light across the lab. The air crackled with energy and with lips pressed thin he set his sights upon the Psion which stilled, eyes widening at the sight of his burning gaze.

"Release them immediately." His voice a low commanding growl echoed through the chamber.

The Psion hesitated for a moment, muscles nailed to the ground by fear, before swiftly lest the Tamaranean lose his patience, it moved towards the control panel. Fingers dancing across the interface with a practiced ease until the pods began to hum with a low, resonant vibration. The green slime slowly began to drain away, revealing the frail forms of the figures within, their eyes fluttering open as they took their first breaths of untainted air.

As the last of the slime receded, the man stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out, his hands trembling, and gently lifted them from their confinement. They were light as feathers, their bodies fragile and cold, but alive. He cradled them close, his tears mingling with the remnants of the slime that clung to their skin.

Twin sets of Jade green eyes settled on him, slight drowsiness and confusion swirling within them. 

Pulling back he reached his trembling hands towards them gently brushing the damp strands of hair from their faces. Their skin, still slick with remnants of the viscous fluid, felt cool against his fingertips. 

They said nothing for a moment before slowly beginning to stir, a faint murmur escaping their lips as they began to comprehend their surroundings.

"Rak'ta Is'ah." The first began her inquisitive gaze assessing his form.

'Uncle Is'ah.' The words pounded in his skull, he exhaled a shaky breath and offered what he hoped was an assuring smile. From the worried smiles that immediately took over their features, he had more than obviously failed miserably. 

"Is something the matter." Straightening her back the older of the two moved forward her head tilted to the side, she made move to speak more before suddenly pausing her eyes falling onto her hands which she slowly raised to her face as if for the first time taking in her state. "What..." She paused before turning back to him. "What's going on Uncle, where are we?" 

"Where's mother...Father, where..."

"Komand'r." He began glancing at the elder of the two before turning to her younger sister. "Koriand'r, I..." He clenched his hands. "I'm sorry." 

"Uncle where are our parents, I wish to see them, take us from this place." Her back as rigid as the princess she was trained to be, her eyes slowly flashing with panic, Komand'r moved forward.

"I'm so sorry."

"Uncle, take us to them, now!"

He fell silent.

"Please...Please...Please."

Koriand'r slapped her hands to her lips, her eyes filling with tears, her sister though she tried to shake them off proved powerless against the sudden flood of sorrow that leaked from her eyes. The two girls breathing heavily stared at him, their eyes pleading. He was powerless. 

"No." They whispered. "No." 

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The girls had finally fallen asleep, the turbulent swirl of emotions that had exploded from their forms now depleted had rendered them much to exhausted for the waking world. 

They had wanted the creature in front of him dead.

All to ready to crush it under their grasp and spill it's blast out of a deep need for justice, vengeance and a cathartic release of their burdening feelings. 

He had not let them.

He needed it alive after all breathing. 

For this moments were crucial, for it was in these moments that they...he would plan their next course. 

"I smelled blood in that lab," he murmured, his gaze shifting to the chained, bruised creature before him. "Their blood."

The Psion regarded him warily, its alien eyes darting nervously.

"Yet they do not seem... aware," he continued thoughtfully.

"Khir... my brood mate, she... She thought it too cruel to keep them awake while we... Learned."

Learned? Is'ah barely managed to suppress a scoff.

"They should have no memory of it."

Small mercies indeed.

Silently thanking X'hal for this mercy, Is'ah approached the reptilian humanoid cautiously. It squirmed in its restraints, fear palpable in its wide eyes. "What do you want from me?" it stammered, inching further back into the chair. "I... I've done what you requested, I've freed your brood mates, I've..." It paused, desperation seeping into its voice. "You promised I could live."

He shrugged, his eyes flashing an unnatural green. "And I will decide if I wish to keep that promise," he replied coolly. "For now, it is my turn to learn."

The Psion froze, its entire body tensing.

"Seems only fair, doesn't it?" Is'ah continued, his voice low and deliberate. "I've helped you gain new information; it's only right that you do the same for me."

Terrified out of it's wits, the creature trembled in place. 

"You have nothing to worry about, if I do this right, it unfortunately won't hurt you." 

Suspicion laced in it's gaze, the Psion regarded him.

"Do what?" 

Quick as lightning, Is'ah's hands shot out, fingers gripping the sides of the Psion's head with a force that left bruises blooming beneath his touch. There was no necessity for the pain he inflicted, only a deep-seated desire for retribution. He relished in the creature's hiss of agony, its teeth clenched in a futile attempt to suppress the pain.

If memory served him right, Tamaraneans, his people, what he had been for the past two decades, possessed the ability of linguistic assimilation through direct skin-to-skin contact. But could that truly be the extent of their capabilities?

Language was more than a skill; it was a framework of information, a conduit that shaped one's perception of the world. Is'ah refused to believe that his people were limited to mere linguistic absorption when language itself held such profound power over sentient minds.

If they could take speech, they could take more.

The Psion flinched as a mild heat spread from his fingers. He'd gotten a bit too excited at the prospect of his next course of action.

Reigning his emotions in, he took the first step to...learning.

Shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to theorize how to go about it. It's not like there was some tell all manual about how telepathy works. He'd have to make due with what little he knew of it from the media he consumed in his first lifetime. 

The Martians from what he recalls, did not view telepathy as invasion or assault, instead they looked to it as an intricate and beyond powerful means of connection and communication. One that transcended physical bounds and allowed for greater understanding through empathy felt between minds.

To achieve what he desired, Is'ah needed to form this connection. To feel for it.

It took a long while for him to note, that progress wasn't really anywhere near achieved.

Taking a deep breath he moved back, pressing his lips tight and staring intently at the reptilian creature which breathed out a sigh of relief after being freed from his crushing grip.

"Learn anything yet?" The Psion snarked only to flinch under the heat of the glare he shot it's way. 

Jaw clenched he began to pace. 

He was perhaps going about this all wrong.

Often times in media, telepaths source their power from their innate connection to the astral plane, they hold the capability to channel and manipulate the power to enter the minds of others. The astral plane was one giant pool of Psionic energy and...Is'ah knew all about energy. 

He glanced to his fists which were immediately covered with a light green the sight of which had the Psion fearfully writhing in place, trying it's hardest to break free of it's binds. 

The energies were not the same of course, but he had a bit of a grasp on what supernatural forces of power felt like and that should help him with his attempt.

Inching closer to the Psion once more, he reached out his hands and pressed them to the creature's head. 

Again his finger tips sparked with warmth. He chased it, searching for something similar in the air, or perhaps from the creature inside of him. 

This time, he felt a subtle difference—a heat flared into his palm, a bright green light igniting in his eyes. Something snapped into place, taking his and the Psion's breath away. A sharp exhale echoed in the room as he watched the energy shift and swirl.

"Think of telepathy as a flashlight in the dark," Jean Grey had once told Synch during a lesson.

Is'ah easily assimilated this theory into practice, envisioning the Psion's mind as a pitch-black house. Centering his power, he felt the heat swirling around him, no longer muted and tiny, but powerful and raw. He condensed it into a steady stream of light.

It flared forward in a controlled beam, illuminating what appeared to be a dining table. Three reptilian figures sat there, chatting and laughing. One was quite tiny, cradled in the gentle hands of one of the larger beings—a child. The Psion, as a child, his mind supplied.

"You can focus the light and see from one mind, or you can widen it and see many minds at once."

"You can focus the light and see one thing, one idea, thought, memory, or you can widen it and..."

Instantly, the brightness widened, reaching out to more parts of the darkened room. More figures came into view. The Psion, dressed sharply in white, moved with its fellows within a lab. On a slab was Is'ah himself, his screams echoing through the room.

The Tamaranean grit his teeth at the sight, taking a deep breath as he moved forward. Memory after memory streamed past him, each one more vivid than the last. He gazed upon them, stopping abruptly at the unexpected sight of another golden-skinned, green-eyed being, his handsome features framed by fiery red hair.

"Xand'r?" he whispered.

"Lord Xand'r..." Is'ah whirled around, noting three Psions slowly making their way towards the other Tamaranean. "Your aid has been quite invaluable. It—"

"Where is it?" The man's voice was manic, anticipation and excitement burning brightly in his eyes. "Where is it?"

The three figures paused before slowly moving aside, to reveal a large behemoth lumbering forward, holding over it's head, a deep black rock with cracks streaked across it's form, each glowing a light pale pink.

"Xand'r." Is'ah whispered moving forward, his lips pressed thin and the glow in his eyes burning brighter and brighter the more he gazed upon the sight.