Standing among the blaster-scared aisles of the Jedi Archives, Enrik couldn't find any words. He remained silent as he had approached Master Worror, half-helping and half-dragging Lyla with him. Looking around the room, Enrik realized that he didn't recognize any of the other Jedi in the room. A large Catuman stood clutching a bandage on his side, and Enrik watched the red stain crawl slowly accross the fabric while a Twi'lek woman tended to Lyla's head. 

Despite his best efforts, Enrik was struggling with his emotions. He had detached himself from feeling for so long that the sudden rush easily overwhelmed him. Fear, panic, guilt, anger, so many feelings that he had done his hardest to alienate, and now they threatened to break him. Yet amongst it all, one question screamed out. [i]Why?[/i] The clones were meant to protect them. They fought alongside the Jedi, the grand army of the Republic, sworn to vanquish its enemies. No one had anticipated that maybe they were the enemy. Suddenly, Enrik longed for the cold, reassuring metal of a lightsaber in his hand once more. 

Enrik didn't tune into the conversation. He was zoned out, battling with a torrent of emotion and thought. Yet eventually, the discussion seemed to die down and Master Worror approached the pair of children. He placed a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "You have been strong today, and I know how you feel. Know that we will get past this and we will survive. Once we have escaped we will mourn the lost, I am honored to be in such an order with beings as brave as yourselves. Please keep being brave and do not lose hope." Enrik didn't feel brave. Enrik felt terrified. How could they be so sure that they would survive? The clones had massacred the rest of the Order, what was to stop them from finishing the job? 

The decision was to head to a series of hidden tunnels, from what Enrik could make out. A Kel'Dor Jedi, one they called Master T'ish, was to lead the way. The wounded Catuman, who he now knew to be called Wynn, was to stay back and guard him and Lyla. She was still hanging from Enrik's side, dazed yet seemingly more alert than Enrik. She could probably walk, but Enrik would not let go. In this moment, if he took away his reason to push forward, he doubted that he would. So instead, Enrik clung silently to his fellow initiate, following the convoy of Jedi as they headed towards the passage. 

The group moved swiftly and silently into the gloom, Master T'ish first and Master Worror bringing up the rear behind the younglings. He stood by the door, waiting for one of the Jedi to return. Enrik could barely see Lyla's face a few inches from his own, and his feet had been swallowed by the cloak of shadow. As they walked, the sound of the fighting slowed but never ceased. The occasional boom would shake the temple and echo through the passage. The Clones could be anywhere; they could be close behind, they could be at the exit already, the could be around the next corner. Enrik heard footsteps, faster than his own, from behind, and instantly he feared the Clones. Yet, from Worror's lack of reaction, it seemed that the one who had left them upon entering the passage had finally caught up. The footsteps stopped, and brief moments passed, before a brilliant shock of blue lit up the passage. The hum of Worror's lightsaber turned to a scream as a blaster bolt deflected off of it and into the passage wall. "T'ish, close the door and lead us down. Everyone else, no time to wait. I advise we run."

The door shut with a woosh, and the group set off at a quicker pace down the passage. Enrik and Lyla hobbled along, trying to keep up with the pace. They turned corner after corner and no matter what, the darkness was all-enveloping. Nothing but darkness. Enrik feared that they would never escape the dark. Yet eventually the passage opened out into a dimly lit room. The light was barely enough to beat the shadows from the corners of the room, yet Enrik's eyes still strained to adjust to the sudden shift in lighting. The room held nothing but clothes; uniforms for Temple Guards and adult Jedi. There was nothing of use to Lyla or Enrik. 

Three paths were open to the small band of survivors. Worror asked which way to go, and Enrik wanted to help. He wanted to reach out to the Force and let it guide his hand, just as he would have been instructed every day. Yet in truth, his mind was clouded by a thick and absolute fog of pure fear. His mind strained against the fog but there was no beating it. Not here. Not now. It wasn't as if his choice would have made a difference. Moments later, a large chunk of the roof collapsed, and Worror only just managed to push Wynn out of harm's way before a quartet of rappel lines dropped through the hole. Four clones dropped into the room. They were huge, bigger than any Enrik had ever lay eyes on. The other initiates had told rumors about the Clone Commandos. If any of them had a shred of truth to them, all of them were in serious danger.

Instantly Worror had his lightsaber drawn, deflecting several bolts. The debris and the Commandos had co-operated to block off two of the three pathways. The Clones were taking everything, and now they had stripped the Jedi of their choice. Lyla was the first in the room to react. Enrik had lost his thoughts in the dust, but he had heard Worror bark an order. Enrik was tempted to stay. He could watch these Clones cut down what could well be the last of the Order, before they finished him off. All of the pain, the fear, the suffering, it would all be over. It could all be so easy. No doubt some of the Jedi would try and fight the Commandos. No doubt some of them would perish. But at least Lyla was alert enough to buy Enrik at least a few more minutes. She set off in the direction of the only open tunnel. She stopped briefly to grab Enrik's arm, ordering him on. For a moment, the fog lifted. For a moment, the choice seemed so easy. Enrik chose life. With his arm firmly in Lyla's grip, the pair of Initiates set off as fast as they could, once more pushing on into the darkness.