I find myself in an endless void of shadow, suffocating in its weightlessness. There's no up, no down—just an expanse of black that stretches into infinity. I look around, but there's nothing. I frown, confusion swirling in my mind. Am I...?

  A deep, mocking voice reverberates through the darkness, and I feel it like a vibration in my bones. "Not exactly."

  The sound echoes, chilling me to the core. I know that voice. I'd know it anywhere. Vitiate.

  My chest tightens, and fear grips me. His voice oozes malice, so calm, so assured.

  "I have your body," he says, each word dripping with dark satisfaction, "but not yet your mind... or your soul. Before I take those, I want you to watch as I cut down the ones you love."

  "No!" I shout, but the sound is swallowed by the void, disappearing into the blackness. I concentrate, trying to reach for anything—my body, Vitiate, something—but it's like trying to grab hold of smoke. I sense nothing. No Force, no tether to my physical self—just empty, cold space around me.

  Two massive viewports appear before me, windows into the chamber I just left behind—or, at least, the one my body did. I can see everything clearly, every detail through these twisted lenses, but the perspective feels disturbingly familiar. It's my own.

  Talia, Nikko, Apollo, and Rebecca are in front of me—or rather, in front of what used to be me, what's now just my hollow, puppet-like body controlled by Vitiate. They look worn down, beaten, drained of any remaining strength. Even Apollo seems damaged, his stance strained, and Rebecca... she's clutching her right arm, blood dripping from it onto the cold stone floor. Horror pools in my stomach as I realize they're staring at me—at my body, twisted and taken over, the familiar replaced by something menacing and vile. I feel dread gripping me as they watch in fear, the terrible realization hitting that Vitiate has truly won.

  "Oh, don't look so upset," I hear myself say, the voice thick with malice that's undeniably his, not mine. "You'll soon join your lover," he sneers, the view shifting, angling toward Talia.

  "No!" I shout, pounding my fists against the viewport. My knuckles hit the glass, but there's no sound, no shattering, just a sickening, hollow thud that echoes around me as I struggle against this invisible prison. I watch helplessly as Talia stands frozen, her wide eyes locked on me—on him, using my body—as he approaches her, drawing my sword, step by taunting step.

  Then, with a sudden burst of movement, Apollo charges forward, desperation written in the tilt of his frame as he aims to protect her. But Vitiate—the thing inside me—dodges his attacks with ease, and with a swift, precise swing, he slices Apollo's vibroblade clean in two. Apollo barely has time to react before Vitiate sends him hurtling back with a brutal Force push, his body slamming into the stone wall with a sickening crunch. I can hear the stone cracking, see it crumbling around him, his metallic body wedged deeply, limbs twisted unnaturally, his armor crumpling under the crushing power.

  "Apollo!" I scream, slamming my fists over and over against the viewport, rage and terror bubbling inside me. "Stop it! Let him go, you bastard!" But my voice is swallowed by the void, useless.

  Blaster fire suddenly breaks through the horrid silence, and I glance toward the viewports just as Rebecca raises her remaining good hand, firing desperately at me—at him. Her aim is shaky, wild, her eyes wide with panic. Behind her, I catch a glimpse of Nikko frantically trying to pull Apollo free from the wall, her small hands grabbing at his shoulders, her face twisted with fear and frustration.

  I watch as he—I—raise my arm, absorbing the blaster fire effortlessly, each bolt disappearing into a field of energy that seems to swallow everything it touches. With a casual flick of my wrist, I disarm her, the blaster slipping from her hand, skittering uselessly across the floor. I watch in horror as he steps forward, his dark gaze locking onto her with sadistic intent.

  "Rebecca, get out of there!" I scream, pounding harder, my fists useless against the barrier. She stumbles back, clutching her injured arm, her face ashen. But she's too slow. With one swift motion, my body swings the sword down, severing her left arm cleanly. Her scream cuts through me like a blade, raw and pained, echoing in my mind long after it leaves her lips.

  "Please... stop this," I whisper, my voice broken, watching as she crumples to the ground, clutching the bloody stump, her face twisted in agony. "Stop this..."

  But he doesn't. "Weak," I hear myself say, Vitiate's venom lacing every word. "How disappointing."

  A spark ignites within Talia, fury blazing through her fear. She charges, her short swords flashing as she swings with every ounce of strength she has left. Her movements are fierce but frantic, her strikes wild and uncoordinated as desperation drives her forward. He blocks each strike easily, deflecting her attacks with a cruel, practiced precision. With one smooth, effortless motion, he cuts through her swords, the blades clattering to the ground, severed and useless.

  Talia stumbles back, her eyes wide with disbelief, the broken hilts still clenched in her hands. She scrambles away, her back pressing against the cold stone wall, her gaze locked onto him—onto me—with terror. She's defenseless, and he knows it. I can see the satisfaction in the way he approaches her, the way he lifts the sword, ready to end it.

  "No!" I shout, slamming both fists against the glass, desperation pouring from me, raw and unchecked. "Vitiate! Stop! Please... just stop..."

  But all I hear is his laughter, that twisted, mocking sound that seems to reverberate through the endless darkness around me. It taunts me, wraps around me, reminding me of my helplessness, my inability to protect those I care about.

  And then I see Nikko. She stands beside Apollo, her small frame trembling, but she lifts her arms, her face twisted in concentration as she reaches out, attempting to pull Vitiate back with the Force. To my shock, my body hesitates, faltering for a brief moment. He looks at her, a flash of surprise crossing his face before it's replaced by amusement.

  "So," he says, his voice darkly amused, "you are Force-sensitive, huh?" He takes a step toward her, his eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. "Perhaps with proper training, you might even surpass your father."

  "Nikko, no!" I scream, pounding my fists again, desperate to break through, to reach her, to pull her away from the monster inhabiting my body.

  He lifts his hand, and she's suddenly lifted into the air, her small hands clawing at her throat as she gasps for air, her blaster slipping from her grip and clattering to the floor. She's defenseless, struggling as he tightens his hold, savoring her terror.

  "No!" I scream, pressing my forehead against the glass, feeling the cold, unyielding surface beneath me. "Nikko! Someone, help her... please..."

  But all I can do is watch, powerless, as the people I care about are destroyed by the very hands that were meant to protect them.

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  I fall to my knees and pull off my mask, the mask slipping from my fingers and dropping to the shadowy ground below with a muffled thud, a hollow sound that barely resonates in this infinite void. I can't watch anymore—I can't stand to see them suffer because of me. My vision blurs, tears spilling over, streaking down my face as I look up, desperate.

  "Please... no more," I plead, my voice cracking with the rawness of my despair. "You have what you wanted. Just... let them go."

  The void echoes with a cold, mocking laughter—Vitiate's laughter, sharp and merciless, ricocheting in the emptiness around me. My chest tightens, and I clench my fists, feeling a sickening wave of helplessness crush over me. Then, like a gentle whisper cutting through the darkness, a faint voice brushes against my mind.

  "Look for the Force, Ryu, and you will always find me."

  It's August's voice. August. That's what he said, just before—

  I close my eyes, now resting my hands on my knees, the darkness pressing down on me. In desperation, I reach out, not knowing exactly what I'm reaching for.

  "August," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Please... hear me. I need your help. Please."

  But the moment I search within myself, darkness presses in on me, suffocating and unyielding. I struggle to hold on to any fragments of light I can find, but it's like reaching for smoke. Memories—terrible memories—crash over me, each one battering my resolve, dragging me deeper into the void. The darkness feels alive, seething, waiting to consume me entirely.

  I'm back in the mines of Kessel, small, bruised hands raw and bleeding as I sift through cold stones. The overseers' voices echo above me, shouting orders, indifferent to the pain that throbs through my young body. I shiver, my bones aching from the endless work, the unrelenting cold settling in. That old, familiar despair seeps into me, chipping away at the strength I had gathered, burying it beneath the weight of forgotten fears.

  Another memory slams into me—unforgiving, unshakable. I'm on Korriban, my training saber heavy in my grip as I face down an unyielding training droid. My body trembles, bruised and bloodied from endless sparring, failing to meet my master's impossible expectations. I can almost hear his voice, cutting into me like a blade. "Pain is a great teacher," he says, cold and indifferent. "You'll learn soon enough." I fall beneath the droid's strikes, each one harder than the last, draining what little power I thought I had left.

  I try to push past the darkness, reaching out, searching for a glimmer of hope, something brighter. A small flicker catches, a memory of August's laughter, rich and full as he tells one of his terrible jokes on Alderaan. It feels like a breath of fresh air, a small, precious sliver of light that breaks through the shadows. I cling to it, feeling a hint of strength seep back in, like a faint heartbeat in the dark.

  But the darkness is relentless, crashing back with renewed fury. My master's words twist through my mind, mocking, seething. "You really think you're worthy to by my Acolyte? Weak, pathetic." I see myself dangling over the abyss, his Force grip holding me as I struggle, helpless, the black depths yawning below. His laughter, cold and amused, digs in deeper, and I feel that faint heartbeat slip away.

  "August," I whisper, my voice trembling, desperation clawing at me. "I can't... I can't do this."

  "You're wrong, Ryu." August's voice rings out, calm and steady. It's as though he's standing right beside me, unseen but close. "You're wrong," his voice comes again, closer, steady. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. He's using your pain to make you think you're weak. But you're not." His words bolster me, a flicker of strength returning. "Focus on the good memories, Ryu. Let them give you strength!"

  I close my eyes, forcing myself to search past the pain, to reach for something good. But the weight of every dark memory pulls me down, each one clawing at me. Blood-stained steps of the Jedi Temple flood my vision—the younglings, faces frozen in terror, lying cold and still. I see Master Va'Ruun, broken and severed, fallen to betrayal. The anguish of those moments feels endless, draining, dragging me down like stones in my chest.

  But then, another memory—a quieter, gentler one—pushes through. August and I sitting in silence, meditating by the cabin on Alderaan. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face, the soft rustle of trees around us. The peace of that moment fills me, pushing back the darkness by inches, rekindling that faint heartbeat within me.

  The dark memories surge again, crashing forward like a wave. Olt Mantell—the memory of Sphinx's betrayal stings fresh, as though it just happened. His cold smirk, his words slicing deep. "See you around, kid. If you ever need more work, you know where to find me." His laughter echoes, taunting me, nearly breaking me. His words bury themselves in my mind, twisting the faint strength I'd gathered, turning it bitter and cold.

  But then, like a warm beacon, Lyra's laughter cuts through, bright and full of life. I'm back in her room, listening to her animatedly talk, her pride evident in every word. "He can learn from every interaction, every battle. Isn't he incredible?" She beamed, her passion radiating as she watched Apollo, her creation, thrive. That sense of pride she held for Apollo stirs my heart. The flickers of light grow stronger, reaching further into the shadows. I remember her eyes, filled with warmth, looking at me with that quiet confidence, a belief that never wavered. The memory ignites a small flicker of strength, the darkness momentarily weakening.

  Just as I feel myself strengthen, another dark memory surges up—the final moments in the Jedi Temple, confronting Majel, blood painting the floors, the cold faces of Jedi knights and masters, dead by his hand. It claws back, more relentless than before, but I push through, gritting my teeth, desperate to find another light. I remember sitting with Lyra under the stars, her hand resting on mine as I revealed my past. She looked at me, unwavering, accepting every part of me without hesitation. "I can't wait to explore the galaxy with you, Ryu." Her voice was soft, but strong, and in that moment, it was enough to silence my doubts.

  The darkness lashes out again with brutal force, and I feel myself stumble as the memory of her death sears through me, a brutal, unforgiving pain that nearly crushes my resolve. I see her lifeless form, and the strength I'd gathered wavers, slipping through my fingers as the void tightens around me once more. Vitiate's laugh echoes, thick with malice.

  "It is pointless, Ryu. You are mine."

  But I can't give up. I won't. I dig deep, pulling myself together, forcing myself to concentrate. I remember standing alone beside her grave, Apollo by my side, the cold earth beneath me as I said my final goodbye.

  Then I see Lyra again, standing before me in the Crucible, her eyes brimming with tears as she whispered, "I love you, you idiot... and nothing is going to change that." The memory of her voice, the conviction in her gaze—it fills me with warmth, pushing back the shadows a little more. The weight of her love for me, unconditional and unwavering, strengthens me.

  A tender memory with Talia surfaces, our first kiss. I see her eyes, reflecting the same mixture of hope and affection, her fingers brushing my cheek just before our lips met. The warmth and relief of that moment lift me further, filling me with a quiet determination.

  Then come more memories, each one like a lifeline. Her smile, her warmth, her laugh—they pour in, a flood of light against the shadows. And then, Nikko. When she called me Papa for the first time. "Papa did nothing wrong!" she exclaims, her small hands clenched tightly into fists. "He saved me!" Every memory of her is a spark, igniting my resolve, filling me with a strength I didn't know I had.

  The darkness wavers, shuddering under the onslaught of light, and Talia appears in my mind. Her unwavering gaze, her hand resting on mine during those long, quiet moments when I doubted myself. Her quiet strength, her loyalty, her courage. The way she'd look at me, her eyes filled with understanding and trust. Each memory of her fills me, pushing the shadows further back, strengthening that heartbeat within me.

  The void around me shudders violently as memory after memory floods in, good outweighing the bad, illuminating every corner of the darkness. Nikko's laughter, her wonder as we explored together. The joy of teaching her something new, seeing her eyes light up with wonder. Talia's quiet moments of support, her hand grounding me when I felt lost. Their voices, their presence, steady and unwavering.

  I feel the darkness slipping away, unable to withstand the warmth, the love that surrounds me. I stand stronger, my breath steady as the shadows pull back further and further. The oppressive weight begins to lift, and I can feel my strength solidify, deeper and truer than before.

  The memories flow freely now, good eclipsing the bad, illuminating every corner of this darkness. I am left with echoes of their laughter, their love, grounding me. For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel whole, free.

  A flicker of another memory—one final, precious moment. I'm standing with Talia, her eyes locked on mine, unspoken feelings passing between us. Then, the warmth of her lips against mine, her hands gentle, grounding me in a love I'd long believed I didn't deserve.

  Strength surges through me, filling every corner of my being. I open my eyes, steady, my heart unbreakable.