Qui-Gon was proud to see Obi-Wan make a stand...but he knew even so, before the pain hit, that it would be futile.
The minute mark seemed to be a lot longer and more intense this time around.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, weariness settling in him even as his injury blazed again. He couldn't even move, pinned again where he was propped up. The Jedi Master struggled to keep conscious, forcing his eyes open again even as he tried to deal with this new wave of pain; he made a point of not looking down at the wound, knowing what he'd see. A lightsaber didn't have a typical blade, but being impaled by one was an experience you didn't forget - you could feel it sitting in you, burning and sizzling, and that time before had only been a split second. Now it stretched into minutes.
His connection with the Force seemed to be getting steadily stronger. Qui-Gon knew why. His normal vision now had begun to blur and gray out, but his other senses expanded. It happened before, back on Naboo, when his body failed him. He could feel Martin Landel's alarming sense of nothing, the sheer evil in the room. Obi-Wan: he didn't need the commlink, still jammed on, to hear him and feel like he was with his fellow Jedi. There, too, was Goku and Callisto, both distinct individuals in the Force, Callisto's aura particularly chaotic and volatile, Goku's confused and frustrated.
And then there was Sanzo.
The arena floored flickered in his vision as Qui-Gon covered his deepening wound with one hand, but he still flinched instinctively as the monk finished his chant. Pure energy flooded the room, whatever Sanzo did blindingly bright in the Force, as if Qui-Gon was looking head-on at several suns and just as disorienting.
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Qui-Gon was proud to see Obi-Wan make a stand...but he knew even so, before the pain hit, that it would be futile.
The minute mark seemed to be a lot longer and more intense this time around.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, weariness settling in him even as his injury blazed again. He couldn't even move, pinned again where he was propped up. The Jedi Master struggled to keep conscious, forcing his eyes open again even as he tried to deal with this new wave of pain; he made a point of not looking down at the wound, knowing what he'd see. A lightsaber didn't have a typical blade, but being impaled by one was an experience you didn't forget - you could feel it sitting in you, burning and sizzling, and that time before had only been a split second. Now it stretched into minutes.
His connection with the Force seemed to be getting steadily stronger. Qui-Gon knew why. His normal vision now had begun to blur and gray out, but his other senses expanded. It happened before, back on Naboo, when his body failed him. He could feel Martin Landel's alarming sense of nothing, the sheer evil in the room. Obi-Wan: he didn't need the commlink, still jammed on, to hear him and feel like he was with his fellow Jedi. There, too, was Goku and Callisto, both distinct individuals in the Force, Callisto's aura particularly chaotic and volatile, Goku's confused and frustrated.
And then there was Sanzo.
The arena floored flickered in his vision as Qui-Gon covered his deepening wound with one hand, but he still flinched instinctively as the monk finished his chant. Pure energy flooded the room, whatever Sanzo did blindingly bright in the Force, as if Qui-Gon was looking head-on at several suns and just as disorienting.