Wynn grunted in agreement with the Twi'Lek, placing his hand back on his wound. He gripped his lightsaber tighter, which had since retreaded back into the hilt. He nodded to the other Jedi and inched towards Worror. He surveyed the scene and sighed, turning to Worror and quietly saying "The main hall has been completely overrun, I seem to be the only survivor out of the several hundred Jedi in that room alone. It's looking pretty dire, old friend." His eyes were hard but his voice soft and cautious. He had his doubts that any of them would make it out of the temple alive. And his spirits dropped when the younglings said their entire clan had been wiped out. "It is pure madness, Worror, such violence and murder I have not seen in my life, not even by droids." he said, his voice even lower. His head throbbed with the pain of his side, what small healing the padawan gave him wearing off. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to find some solace in the force. But there was so much darkness, like a massive cloud had taken over the temple. And he could see the flames of souls, they shined bright through the cloud, a beacon of hope. Then, each one was extinguished, some burned brighter, but eventually went out. The darkness grew as the light went out. Wynn opened his eyes, his anger growing, despite Worror being next to him. He would make them pay. He would make them [i]all[/i] pay.